The Streets of Bangalore

WIth Bill on his way to Australia I thought I should share the last post from India.

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Here is a potpourri of Bangalore images.

In my hotel there is a giant red sumo wrestler statue.  Remember, I am in India, not China.  It reminds me of the JFK memorial at Runnymede, where the Magna Carta was singed.  It's just random.

Downtown Bangalore.  This is surely a colorful city.  The visual stimulation assaults your senses.  It is brilliant.  The Indians love bright colors.  

But not in their clothes.  I wore some orange this week, as I am apt to do, and it really stood out.  To the point where I was asked today by a golf course worker "You like orange, don't you?"

Anyway, Bangalore .... senses being assaulted ....

Sound.  Noisy city.  I've talked about the traffic.  The horn is used in an "on your right ... on your left" way.  And between the tuk tuk and the motor bikes, someone is always inches away on your left and on your right.

Scent ... yes, Bangalore has an odor.  Not real pleasant.  I gave Sam the hypothetical of doubling his salary if he lived here a year.  He immediately said yes, because he is greedy, then thought about it and said not because of the smell.

Touch.  No personal space here.  Especially when shopping.  Vendors leap up when a non-Indian approaches.  It takes three plus "no thank you's" to shake them.  They are rude to each other.  A busker/beggar approached our India GM and he immediately told them to F-off. 

I also have an invasion of my personal space in the company bathroom by the attendant, but I'll save that for talk over drinks.

And finally taste.  Those who love Indian food, really love it.

I can't take it.  It's not just the curry.  Even Subway has a certain Indian aftertaste that I'm just not assimilating to.

This guy will never misplace his sunglasses.

My only tuk tuk ride (three wheeled scooter) was scary.  I've gotten used to the lawlessness driving, but this guy zipped in and out as if I were a pregnant lady who was crowning.

As frighting as the tuk tuk ride is, being a pedestrian in Bangalore is like what it must feel like to be a character in Grand Theft Auto (any gamers in our audience?  wrong demographic, I fear).  Fortunately I had our INdia GM to help me across.

Hey, when in Rome ... or Bangalore

And finally, back to the hotel.  I stayed at the Ritz Carlton (I'm no fool).

But even the Ritz had it's quirks.  I had to postpone dinner tonight and come inside while they fumigated the outdoor dining area for bugs.  If I were more concerned with such things it may have bothered me.  But they wiped my table down and that was enough for me.

Shoreditch Sunday

For the past year and a half I've wanted to go to a particular museum - I'm not going to say the name because there is a contraband photo below.

Anyway, it's really more of an experience than a museum.  The house is completely set up as if a family of Huguenot silk weavers live  here in the early 1800's.  The idea is that the family has just left the room as you enter it.  The house is lit only by candles as it would have been then and there is the smell of the food and sounds piped in so that you hear a horse and carriage or the gun salute signaling the death of the king and the ascension of Victoria.   

When you first arrive a man greets you at the door to tell you the set up.  You are supposed to go through silently and just take in the atmosphere.

The picture above is after I left - unfortunately.  When I arrived there was a whole crowd in line (below) and having a lot of people in the house definitely detracted from being able to feel like I was in the house with the Jervis family.  

 I did like this guy's umbrella message though - - "Turned out nice again"!  

 How am I supposed to blog interesting things if I can't take pictures of them?  I did sneak a few in but since it was so dark, this is the only one that came out.  I think this was supposed to me where Mrs Jervis was taking a little touch of brandy to start her day.  

 Since it was Victorian times, the house was packed with knick knacks and too dads and I loved them all.  Every inch of this house was by design to tell a story.  There was a mechanical cat that looked incredibly real (I watched it for quite a while to make sure it was fake).  It makes you realize how cold and dark these houses were in the 1800's on a rainy day like Sunday.   

Later I walked over to the Columbia Road Flower Market.  If you go at the end of the day they start selling 2 or 3 bunches for 5 GBPs just to get rid of them.  So I picked up a few bunches to take home.

Check out this guy - he was as colorful as his outfit.  Maybe that's what I lacked as a florist - a dandy outfit and some street banter.  How could anyone walk by without taking a few bunches?

 I saw this little bug on the way home and couldn't resist.

I loved that going home was just a 15 minute tube ride from Shoreditch.  It's nice to be a Londoner.

How to spend a weekend in India

My friends in India gave me many suggestions on what to do with the free weekend in Bangalore.  They suggested my visiting the many sights in the area, including Mysore.  Here is a write up about it:

If you haven’t been to Mysore, you just haven’t seen South India. Conceited though it may sound, this is not an overstatement. An ancient city with more than 600 glorious years of legacy, Mysore is one of the most flamboyant places in India. Known for its glittering royal heritage, bustling markets, magnificent monuments, cosmopolitan culture and a friendly populace, it is also a thriving centre for the production of premium silk, sandalwood and incense. It also flaunts considerable expertise in yoga and ayurveda, two trades it markets worldwide.

 It sounded fantastic.  It was also three hours each way by car.  Cars that scare me, if can be frank.  So I passed on Mysore this time and went golfing.  I am a horrible person.  I feel a bit bad about not taking in the country while I had the chance, but, you know, it's golf.

See, I saw some scenery.  Nandi Hills (in the background of the 5th hole)

 The course was lousy with snake hotels.  I was told they were good snakes so I didn't have to worry.

 I was told to take a picture of this tree.  It's Charlie Brownish to me, but I'm not schooled on such things.

 There you go ... big hitter, the Lama.

 Here is me and my new friend, Srinivas.  He caddied for me on both Saturday and Sunday.  He tried to teach me some of his native language, Kanataka.  I learned left was heda and right was bala.  The word I used most was kertadu.  The word for bad.... as in bad shot.  None of these words are spelled right because when I went to look them up in an English to Kanataka dictionary they only gave the scribbly spelling.

 The opposing caddy.  I felt like I had to play well so my caddy would win caddy wars.

I don't think my caddy won caddy wars.

Wodehouse would have enjoyed it

When Bill was traveling last week I had to find ways to entertain myself.  One way was to take myself to a show. 

Here I am - excited for the show.  I was able to snag a great seat at the last minute since I could take a single.  The show was terrific!  Of course, they had the perfect source material - Wodehouse is genius and Bertie's adventures with the silver cow creamer and Gussie Fink-Nottle's newts at Totleigh Towers are some of my favorites.  There were only 3 actors in the show - Bertie was always Bertie but the other two played everyone else.  One great scene had Matthew Macfayden in two half costumes - one side the father, the other his daughter and he kept turning back and forth the play the scene.  Very well done!

 Matthew Macfayden was the celebrity draw for this show.  Not a household name (sorry Matthew) but you might recognize him from British show MI5 or as Mr Darcy in the updated version of Pride and Prejudice (the one with Keira Knightly). I didn't get a shot during the show but I waiting outside with a handful of others for him to come out.  I'm sure he just wanted to go home but he was very gracious and patient, signing for everyone and thanking them all for their remarks.  

A word of advice - if any of our faithful readers have not read any PG Wodehouse please take action to correct this immediately!!

I wish I had real monkeys at my wedding

Here are a few more pictures from the wedding day.

I like how the priest has a sash that has an advertisement on it.

Despite my breech of cultural norms in wearing the wrong outfit to the reception, I am a hit with the ladies of India.

Aditi and I.  She also is nonplussed over my wearing my outfits in the wrong order.

If a fight broke out this fearsome foursome would get our asses kicked.

This dude was outside the temple with his sheep.

Also outside the temple.... monkeys!  They don't have squirrels, they have mangy monkeys.  I was very excited about it.  Until they told me they pickpocket people.

Just proves the old adage that you can't trust a monkey.

Filming in Progress Part 2

This is a bit of old news for some folks but Bill had such good posts that my celebrity gossip was delayed.  While Bill was enjoying the wedding in India, I was strolling through Kensington Gardens with Pierce Brosnan.  I have to say, he's aging quite well.  Do I prefer the distinguished  grey haired look over the skinny dark haired Remmington Steele days because it's better or is this just one more sign that I'm getting old?

Party time, gentlemen

I have totally corrupted my posse.  Rakesh, a rare smoker - only when he drinks, has never had a whole cigar.  He polished this one off, so I gave him three more for when he's on his own.  Leena will hate me.  Sam only smokes them because he thinks he looks gangsta (do the kids use that word still?)

 Except for the strange position of my hand and Rakesh looking like a wax figure, this is a good shot of us.  Sam and Jen are kindred souls; always ready for a photo op.

I'm starting to feel darn snug in my diaper pants.  Look how the material gathers at the crotchal region.    I may wear these golfing tomorrow!

At the Ritz Carlton in Bangalore they are pouring on the customer service.  I received a handwritten note with a large tube of toothpaste and new toothbrush because they saw I had thrown away my little toothpaste tube.  (I had more, but what a nice gesture.  Tomorrow I'm going to throw away my iPod and hope they give me a new one.)

And this towel bunny greeted me when I arrived.  They eyes are orchid petals.  Creepy, yes, but you have to admire the effort.

Meanwhile, we celebrate Sam's birthday at the India office.  The tradition is that the birthday boy gets his cake smushed in his face.  Then they pick him up by the arms and legs and offer free spankings.  The women do not get this treatment, thankfully.

 

Sam, in a serious breech of etiquette, smushed the cake in the face of his bosses.

The stunned India employees didn't know what to make of this interloper who violated their tradition.

Samit, the very proper leader of India HR, doesn't know how to react.

Sam....