Mysore and the Ghats

Altogether we spent five leisurely days in Mysore and the hills to the south. At 700m Mysore delivered the 'Indian Summer' we wanted and after three days we went on to Madikeri, which was at 1,500m dropped another couple of degrees - so only 30-ish during the day.

Mysore had all the contradictions and rhythms you hope for in India, from the Maharajah's palace, looking just like Harrods all lit-up, through to the 'famous' market where we went for our breakfast and the drainage had failed so everyone just covered their faces.

Laura and Patrick faced the biggest change, having come from winter in the Alps (Patrick complete with goggle marks) to the heat of India, although their mountain home ensured when we did set out on our obligatory 6.30am hill walk/pilgrimage their high-altitude lifestyle ensured they shot up the hill, at least that was our excuse.

Mysore gave everyone a bit of what they wanted - Patrick enjoyed the monkeys most, they were on the roofs and our walk; Erica managed to purchase, in what is the least touristy famous spot we've been, a blanket, Laura enjoyed her first proper curries and the head nodding and I liked that you had change from three pounds after all four of us had eaten lunch.

Before we left Mysore there was the saga of the missing flip flops or jandals, for our linguistically challenged readers in the southern hemisphere. The things to understand are, our hotel was a relaxed place and we took to leaving the odd thing lining about and anyhow there was always one of the three house boys around keeping an eye on things. We know house boy doesn't sound politically correct, but it's what they called themselves and the description couldn't be more accurate.

When we came to leave, Erica's jandals were nowhere to be seen. We scoured the room, the landing and the balconies and as a last resort tracked down our house-boy, who was mopping the floor downstairs. Following the usual gesticulation and incomprehensible blabbering from me, he asked me to follow him and we headed up to our room. Once we arrived outside the door, he paused, then stepped out of Erica's flip flops, smiled and strolled off. Flip flops restored, we spent twenty guilt-ridden-wealth-laden-western-mentality minutes contemplating whether to donate said flip flops, or purchase new ones for him. This anguish left us however when he strolled happily past in a very adequate, if less trendy pair.

Then it was on to the hills and for this I pass you over to Patrick's diary, which sets out concisely the highlights of our two days in Madikeri:
Misty mountains in the morning.
Anoop whose house we stayed in.
Dogs, Pinky, Blacko, Snowy, Pinko and their boyfriend.
Incredible greenery.
Keeping a baby squirrel safe.
Elephants, twelve, at Dubare forest reserve with a
River to wash in.
Indian traveling.......

The final thing to mention from our time in the hills is Mrs B's discovery of date balls, like great balls, just no fire. She and Laura developed a minor addiction.