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Published: October 24th 2006
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Crazy Cow
Taking a nap on a pile of burning garbage. We arrived in Mysore after a night train and day bus ride and it was the begining of Dewali, a Hindu festival lasting five days. Mysore is a small city known for it's cooler tempatures and sandlewood oils. We had a bit of a challange finding accommodation and after unsuccessfully trying ourselves we submitted to a rickshaw driver that said he knew cheap, clean rooms. After visiting four more hotels with him, none being cheap because of his commission, we were back at square one. But, with the help of another man, around the corner we found an acceptable room at an ok price.
Dewali Festival
Firecrackers and fireworks are popular at festival time. Our first night as I was dozing off to sleep we woke to what could have been gun fire. No worries, it was just firecrackers the size of 1/4 sticks being lit in the street beside the hotel. Now we know why so many Indians have lost limbs... only 100 injuries due to firecrackers in Bangalore, a city of 5 million.
The next day someone threw a firecracker into the street as we walked by and it exploded beside us. Jarrod picked out
the culprit from the crowd to be a teenaged boy who was looking off into the distance while his friends were all staring at him. I was momentarly deaf but my eyes were working to see Jarrod freaking out the teenager and when my hearing came back Jarrod was towering over the boy yelling "Why are you throwing firecrackers into a crowd of people? Use your f*@k'n brain! Are you stupid?" Quite a crowd amassed around Jarrod, and the teenager started retreating into a shop trying to difuse the situation. The teenager kept repeating, "OK. Go now. Go now. I'm sorry." but never answered Jarrod's question about his mental capacity.
For the festival most of the cows got a makeover (but not the crazy one sitting in the burning rubbish): their horns were painted with powders in bright pink, purple, green or orange and flower wreaths draped around their necks. We saw a dog that was completly green head to tail.
Sweets are a must at festival time and the sweet shop was the busiest place in town. Jarrod and I bought some of the famous 'Mysore Pak' sweet which tasted like the simple combination of melted butter
and sugar. The sweets were good, but a bit sickening after a few bites and I'd hate to think how many calories were in them!
Maharaja's Palace
We visited the Maharaja'a Palace that was built in 1912 after the first one, built out of sandlewood, burnt down. It's still privatly owned and for a small fee you can walk through the palace, but no photography is allowed inside. I was a bit moody that day and annoyed that we had to pay to have our camera locked up, we couldn't take it into the palace even if we swore not to take photos. On top of that, you can not wear shoes in the palace and again have to pay a fee to have someone mind your shoes. I wanted to carry my shoes and avoid the fee but the gaurds were insistant that I could not carry my shoes. Why the heck do they charge me an admission fee and then nickle and dime me for the camera and shoes! I finially conceded and paid to have my shoes minded and when I went through security for the second time the gaurds then asked to look in
my bag. Now I was especially pissed because numerous Indian ladies had just entered before me with thier hand bags going unchecked. I opened my bag and let the gaurd look and he starts pointing at things in my bag asking "what's this? what's this?" It's my freakin guide book and money belt! I said some nasty words to him and walked away.
After all the hassle to enter, the palace itself had to be the most gaudy residence I've ever seen. Each room had intricate carvings, detailed paintings and elaborate tile floors and ceilings. It had terrible color combinations and was so detailed it was extreamly tacky.
However, they did have an impressive throne that had steps leading up to the chair all made out of gold. In each room there was a security gaurd posted to ensure that visitors didn't touch the artifacts or go beyond the roped path. The room with the throne had five gaurds with guns slung over thier shoulder sitting around a shabby table sipping chai tea. Classic India. Men doing nothing, especially the police. Reminiscent of a construction site back home.
Devaraja Market
In the afternoon we sought out
the Devaraja Market which had a good mix of things for sale, but mostly the colourful powders (Classic India), flowers for the festival, and fruit and veggies. The vendors all wanted to sell me little packets of powders and a little boy followed us around trying to get us to visit a shop that sold "pure" sandlewood oils (just another scam). So far it has been one of the best markets we've been to. The vendors create good displays of their goods and the smells vary from onions, garlic, ginger to roses, sandlewood and incense.
Next Stop: Madikeri for some hiking.
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Sandy
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MMMM! Roast Beef!!!!