Mysore day 1&2 - big fish, little fish, pitcher fish

Hurtling in "hi-speed limited stop" bus (which, in sad reality, was more like the number 49, stopping in barren fields and for lunch) we descended out of Wayanad. Crossing the Karnatakan state boarder, it felt as if we'd crossed a tropic: the dense green of Kerala almost instantly was replaced by scrubby plains of reddish earth.

Vast amounts of Karnataka seemed deserted, but the cities were massive and sensationally westernised.

Having arrived in our hotel in Mysore - the unpronounceable Aishwarya residence - we rekindled our spirits before heading for more spirits at the LP-rave-reviewed "Pelican Pub". After a gruellingly long rickshaw we clocked in, to find that their "wide array of drinks" consisted of, according to the waiter, "small kingfisher, big kingfisher, pitcher kingfisher". LP faith struck. To make matters worse, we then wandered the night streets in search of the top tripadvisor restaurant - it simply doesn't exist.

We wound up eating on a rooftop overlooking the illuminated palace - perhaps more tasty as we realised we hadn't eaten for around 30 hours.

The next day we explored the famous Souk, a compact and hugely vibrant part of town, awash in fantastic colours and smells/odours. Whereas I remained my cool, detached self, Lissy was overcome: she bought no less than 8 jingly anklets, consequently sounding like a reindeer for the next few days. Liss also bought some of the brilliant coloured powder they were selling - unsure of what to do with them, we settled with drawing tattoos.
Further along our city exploration, we stumbled upon a cultural highlight: Dominos. Although slightly disappointing, it set into motion our reunion with western food...

A most biblical thunderstorm fell on us that evening, hailing the start of lent and the stupidity of my giving up crisps - a staple to our desperate diets.

With love