big city brothel...i mean bangalore

The days before I left for Bangalore were filled with people giving me the low down on what to expect: pollution, traffic jams, just another big city. That's cool, in fact, that's why I wanted to go. I craved being in a city with shopping malls, noise and too many people. I looked forward to going and I looked forward to how happy I knew I would be to come home.

I’d planned on making a nice breakfast to eat on the train but, instead, overslept by an hour and had only minutes to wake up, wash and pack before I had to leave. The train ride started with a disagreement over the fare during which my friends argued with the Conductor while I writhed in my seat with discomfort and tried to make myself invisible. The Conductor won, the fare was paid and the train ride was awesome. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that can top sitting in the open door of a train car, wind in your face, and the country side slipping by. It was heaven.

Bangalore was Bangalore. A big, dirty, noisy city. I loved it. We shopped, coffee-d, and chilled in our hotel room before meeting my roommate's parents (who had just flown in that day to work), for dinner. While relaxing in our room we marveled at the very low hotel rate. Sure, we had to use our flip flops to turn the water on and off or we were electrocuted each time we touched the taps but we had towels – big, fluffy white towels. Score! It was only later that night that we understood the low rates and the purpose for the benches we’d admired so much lining the hallways. Turns out, we were in a “working” hotel of sorts, the benches were for the girls waiting for some business to turn up. While they waited they gossiped, argued and yelled loudly into their cell phones. Not much sleep was had but damn I enjoyed drying myself off with that big fluffy towel after I’d finished electrocuting myself in the shower the next morning.

In our search for food we stumbled upon “the” breakfast spot which was fun seeing as I never know where those places are in my own city. The restaurant was packed with locals happily enjoying combinations of eggs, baked beans and toast while I churlishly drank my coffee and made frequent references to the idly I’d expected. Breakfast said and done, we wandered around and drank more coffee before checking ourselves out of the brothel to catch a bus home. The bus was quick, the ride smooth and the homecoming very lovely. I headed straight up to my roof where I breathed clean(er) air, looked up at the stars, and anticipated a business-free sleep.


Breakfast of champions - coffee and biscuits (that very proudly bear the slogan "Now with glucose!" on their wrapping. Is glucose a good thing?)


Chai on the run


Scenes from the train





Post-temper tantrum coffee - rescued from the disappointment of an idly-free (and food-free) breakfast in the restaurant of eggs and cheese by the best coffee ever


Heading home


Yes. I absolutely want some of this...