We'd booked a First Class AC coach after hearing some slightly disconcerting things about the rest of the types of carriage. I'm quite glad that we did because even first class had mould on the ceiling and the toilet dealt with waste by the simple method of having a big hole in the floor. It was, erm, draughty to say the least! We limped into Mysore about 15 minutes late, and were able to walk to the hotel (we could actually see it from the train station which made navigation much easier!).
I was a little bit worried about what the hotel would be like, after all, first class on the train was a little on the questionable side, but I really needn't have worried. The room was HUGE, the bed was HUGE and COMFY and the bathroom was NOT HUGE but a nice size, clean and with a sauna function in the shower (which had a ginormous rainhead, love, love, love!). The bed was a particularly important feature, you see, dear reader, mattresses in India are kind of like futons, but instead of being stuffed with cotton, they're stuffed with bricks. Really uncomfortable bricks. The mattress at the Regaalis may well have been pretty standard to folks used to beds in the UK, but it was so comfy it actually elicited hysterical giggles from me, I was so happy. Ollie chuckled at me laughing, then got under the duvet too and did EXACTLY the same thing. Never has a bed, duvet and pillows caused so much joy/madness.
We had vague plans to do "something" on Saturday afternoon, but failed completely because we both fell asleep. The hotel room was the first room we've stayed in since September that was quiet, not too hot and had a comfy bed. 5 hours later we woke up and puttered down to the hotel restaurant for tea. The food was really good, though we were given soup we didn't order because the waiter didn't want us to "waste time".Sunday we actually woke up in time for the hotel breakfast (fresh fruit for me, fryup for Ollie) and decided to walk to Mysore Palace for some actual tourism. Mysore Palace differed from any National Trust property that I've ever been to in two ways.
1. Bribery.
As with any big building there are a LOT of entrances. And as with any big building with lots of entrances, there are guards at the entrances you're not supposed to enter through. Armed guards. Armed police guards, in fact. We toddled up to one gate, which had no signs saying "Don't come in this way. Go round the other side" and were met by two policemen with guns lying on the table between them. One stood up and told us that we needed to go to the South Gate, where we could by tickets to go into the palace. These would cost us Rs. 200. However, he'd "helped" us, and in return for a "thank you" he would let us into the palace through the gate he was guarding. He essentially had to mime the action of giving him money as we were both happy to walk round to the South Gate. Rs. 100 later (this is a bit more than a quid) and we were herded into the guarded, non-entrance-y gate.
We finally managed to get into the palace itself, and had the ubiquitous metal-detector/bag x-ray scan. I was asked if I still had my camera with me, which I did (I trusted the Camera Room about as far as I could throw it...). I wasn't really allowed to have it in the palace, but I was made to promise to keep it in my bag by yet another armed guard, who had apparently also "helped" me and was given Rs. 50 as I was damned if I was giving him Rs. 500!
2. Removal of shoes.
To save the (really quite beautiful) mosaic floors in the palace visitors are requested to remove their shoes and leave them with a little man who gives you a ticket for them. I wasn't so worried about losing my shoes, for one thing they're huge compared to Indian sizes, for another I've been walking round an Indian city in them for 2 months...
It was quite weird stoating about in bare feet, but all the faff was well worth it in the end. The palace is gorgeous, though it me a lot of the Party Building in Bucharest. Lots of gilt and carved wood and expensive stained glass, built while the populace was dirt poor.
One slight downside of being a tourist, more specifically a white tourist, in India is that YOU become a tourist attraction. After being harrassed in the street (no, newspaper, it's not Eve-Teasing, nor is it Misbehaving, it's HARRASSMENT) for a photo I get a bit funny about being shouted at so that a stranger can take a photo of me. Now, don't get me wrong, if I'm asked politely, it's fine, though I do tend to demur, but politely in response. However, if someone yells at me just so I'll look his way, and takes the picture when I'm trying to enjoy a nice day out with Ollie, I get pissed off. I'm not there for his entertainment, and it makes me not want to see the nice bits of India because I can't be bothered with the hassle.Mumble grumble.
It started to chuck it down in the afternoon, so we went back to the hotel, and yes, fell asleep again. Went to the hotel restaurant for tea again, and watched terrible films.
Monday we went to Mysore Zoo, which is a really strange place. The signs speak for themselves...
This sign says that if you fall into the Tiger enclosure you may be eaten by a tiger, then arrested.
This sign says that if you fall into the Zebra enclosure, the zebra will eat you, then you'll be arrested.Wait, what? Mysore Zoo, with your deep confusion over biology, you are really spoiling us! This sign appeared in a lot of permutations throughout the zoo, and covered bears, crocodiles and buffalo. Carnivorous buffalo would have made the Wild West a bit more interesting...
Also, if you steal someone's bag in Mysore, you end up in the zoo.
(yes, I know a Mugger is a type of crocodile, I just thought it was funny)We hot-rickshawed it to the train station a bit early, and had a chillout and got some more train-snacks for the trip back. We shared our luxury first-class compartment with a small beetle and two cockroaches and got to Bangalore about half an hour early.
So, tourism fail, but a lovely weekend! More photos on Facebook.
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