First day impressions!

Mysore is a city tucked away in India's southwestern state of Karnataka. Quite often skipped by tourists, it is overshadowed by Bangalore, the capital of the state and Mangalore, well known for it's pristine beaches. Having only three weeks, I decided against visiting the next state south, Kerala, to concentrate my time exploring Mysore, a city of just under a million inhabitants.

I awoke that first morning in Mysore with my host Ganga gently rattling the door.

Breakfast was ready and waiting to be served downstairs. I stumbled down to their house and met her husband Cari. I soon learned he was a Private Investigator. Being quite the question asker, I soon got an insight into his work over a mouthwatering masala dosa, fruit and plentiful fresh coffee. It was a long, slow breakfast that continued out on the patio with Cari, whilst Ganga began to cook lunch for her family. No microwaves or ready meals here, everything is cooked from scratch with locally sourced fresh vegetables bought daily from local markets. The family are vegetarian in line with the Hindu tradition which spreads into the cities restaurants. Cari practised yoga daily and on learning my interest, arranged to call his yoga teacher friend for details. Many Westerners arriving in Mysore, stay in Gokalum an area famous for yoga courses and teacher training. Quite often with tourst prices! I consiously decided not to base there since I enjoy meeting local people and learning about their cities and lives. Siddarhati Layout was to be my home for three weeks and as I was soon to learn, not many Westerners passed through.

I decided to go into the city that mornng and took the bus. I was surprised to find the fare was only 5 rupees, so about 5p. So off I went, staring excitedly out the bus window waiting for my first glimpses of Mysore. There had been a recent festival in the city and all the cows roaming the streets were decorated and their white patches were transformed into yellow. Red horns, yellow patches! It struck me that Mysore wasn't as chaotic as the other Indian cities I visited many moons ago. Well they do say the south is more laid back. The bus zoomed past temples, people, statues, Mysore palace, everything encapsulated in a myriad of colour. I was soon at the bus station and decided to wander and familiarise myself with the city.

The first interaction I had were with two nuns. I met them at the traffic lights and they both smiled sweetly at me.

Exchanging some small talk, I asked where I could find a cafe. Whilst they led me to a my caffeine fix, Mary told me she was from Delhi but had moved to Mysore to join the convent. On reaching a cafe we said out goodbyes. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I quite fancied sitting outside with my coffee. Although it seemed that perhaps cafe culture didn't exist in Mysore. So I decided to grab a take away coffee and find a seat somewhere. I crossed the road and discovered I was outside the centuries old Devaraji market. I took a pew and smiled as I gazed at the amazing sights all around. People selling their wares in the blazing sun, some protected by umbrellas. I reluctantly went into my bag to take out a cigarette. This reluctance was mirrored by seeing no-one else smoking; anywhere! I was later to learn it was illegal to smoke in public. Yes, in India, where 'Keep Smiling' recognised you can piss, but not kiss in public! So here you can piss, but not kiss or smoke!

My previous travel experience of local markets are that they are hustling bustling places. So I braced myself prior to entering Devaraji market, only to find it almost absent of customers. I considered it was probably busy during mornings, by afternoon people had most likely bought ingredients for meals and were already cooking. The stall holders were selling their wares - fruit, sandalwood, silk, vegetables, flowers, coloured powder for tikkas, garlic etc. All an explosion of colour and aromas. They have so many varieties of banana's they have their own section in the market. Surprisingly, the stall holders were quite conservative in their approach since nobody tried to entice you to buy their goods. After all this was more of an everday market as opposed to a tourist trap.

This having distinct districts for different services or consumer items could be unique to India. During my time in Mysore, I remember walking through what can only be described as the 'recycled cardboard' district, then the 'engineering' district, followed by the pungent but eye-opening 'fish' market and an area that sold only electrical household items. It means that consumers can save time by shopping for an item in a concentrated area. Near the bus station, I passed through an area that I found amusing. A row of men sat behind typewriters, waiting for customers.

Basically anything can be bought in Mysore!

After spending a good few hours roaming round the city, I decided to go back to base camp and check it out. So armed with my 5 rupees, I headed to the bus station. Going back, the bus was very busy with school children heading home and I was quite the star attraction! On reaching my stop, I spotted a little roadside cafe with men scattered around on plastic stools, bent over chatting and smoking. Yes smoking! I approached what was to become my regular 'coffee spot' and met Ravi, the owner. On perching on a stool, I was again the main attraction, being white but mainly, since women never frequented such places. They are in the kitchen cooking. I soon got chatting with Krishna and Raj, two friendly ex-policemen who were to become my coffee buddies.

On asking if I had anything from Scotland, I pulled out some work pens and lollipops! They were greatly received! They recommended the 'Dosa Place' for dinner and off I went for spinach dosa's and pineapple juice.

Back at base camp, I met Cari and he informed I was off to yoga at 6.30am the next morning. He would take me round to a local class. I had also mentioned this morning that I was keen to visit an NGO, especially one who supported women; being in line with my work and interests. He had arranged for me to visit an orphange and his friend Mumta would put me in touch with other organisations. Ganga also knew I was interested in getting a massage and recommended the 'Ayurveda Hospital' who I would contact tomorrow. Some of the benefits of staying with local people, is dipping into their knowledge and contacts. As I was heading up to my quarters, Ganga handed me the 'Mysore Star' newspaper and pointed out the section that lists local events today and tomorrow. This was going to be a very busy three weeks................................