More Bangalore

Bangalore, India (map)

In this blog: the Las-Vegas of temples, a pint of real ale, and a big juicy beef steak (in India, really).

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beef and Ale

After the fantastic day of Holi celebrations, Nick and I met with Suresh again that night - both of whom I'd met at Honey Valley a week or two before (see previous blogs) as well as a friend of his, and they showed us the local nightlife of Bangalore. After a couple of Kingfishers at The Monkey Bar - a trendy bar in the middle of the city - we went a few miles across town to a German-style brewpub, where they brew real ale in house - a relatively new idea in India, and a really smart and impressive place. For a real ale fan like myself, who'd only been able to find lager for months now, I was a happy man. Not only this, but the pub also had steak on it's menu, which Suresh and I shared in a strange couple-like manner that could only seem normal in India. In trendy, affluent Bangalore where less people adhere to Hindu norms, eating beef is not quite as sacrilegious as it sounds, and whilst it was a bit on the stringy side, after over five months without eating steak I was pretty delighted nonetheless. 

Computer City

Bangalore's pavements are terrible

If you've ever spoken to anyone in a call centre in India, which I'm fairly sure you have, it's highly possible they were sat in an office in Bangalore, since the city is the IT capital of India - a multi billion dollar business which actually stretches way beyond calls centres into outsourcing software, accountancy and suchlike. There are some exceptionally talented people in India, and if they don't get headhunter to go and work in the US they often seek their fortune in Bangalore. The city reflects this and is relatively modern, green and pleasant by Indian standards, though still a bit rough around the edges.

Secreteriat building

After the high of the day before, followed a day of catching up and planning ahead on a few things, after two weeks away from civilisation. I also said goodbye to Nick who headed off to work in Thailand for a few weeks. On my third day in Bangalore it was back to business however, as I went to see the city - not the most exciting in the world but worth a look anyway. I tracked down a hire bike to have a good look around; the only decent one I've been able to hire in india so far - and headed off on a big loop through the central Cubbon park, past momentous state government building, the high court, Bangalore palace, and a nice city lake. I chanced upon the military memorial park, which as well as the commemorations had some examples of Indian military hardware - tanks, bridge layers, a fighter jet, and even a space rocket - the latter two both built in Bangalore. 

Bangalore is India's high-tech
hub - both jet fighters and
space rockets are made there

The nice thing about cycling in India is the lack of enforced rules, so riding on (the awful) pavements and sneaking down the odd one-way street added to the fun. The suburban streets were quite green and pleasant, with tree lined high streets in between. I managed to find the ISKCON temple that I'd heard about - a strange building that looked like a holy version of Las Vegas - traditional temple facades set around a great big glass pyramid, with an interior clad almost completely in polished granite. On the path in were many small shrines, one with a looped recording chanting 'hare Krishna', inside, monks waved brushes in the air in a symbolic manner, and everywhere you went there was merchandising and food stalls. It was a pretty barmy place, until I saw the plans for their next Vegas-style temple, with a 500ft tower as it's centrepiece. All very bizarre, but interesting nonetheless.

Country Club

At one of Bangalore's 'exclusive clubs' with
Suresh (R) and his friend Lokache (L)

I arranged to meet up with Suresh again that night, and along with a couple of different friends of his, he took me to a place I can only describe as a country club in the city - where all the well healed Bangalorians go for badminton, swimming and afternoon tea. It's a members only place with lifetime membership at £13k, but we fortunately got signed in as guests of his friend. It was smart without being too pretentious, and we sat outside in the open air food court, buying small dishes such as Goan fish, masala chaat, and lemon chicken to share, and having a few beers. It was the first time I'd experienced the more upper-class part of India, and gave me a whole different perspective to this very diverse country. A fine end to a fun few days.

Astronaut?

Holi Moly

Bangalore, India (map) 

In this blog: getting covered in paint at the Holi festival

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Holi is an unquestionably Indian event, and I'm sure most people reading this will recognise the sight, if not the name after seeing the photos. Only in India would it make perfect sense to throw paint over each other as a form of celebration. Holi is the second biggest Indian festival (after Diwali), but unfortunately as I discovered it's traditionally a North Indian festival. Being in Bangalore in the south therefore made it a lot harder to experience it properly, but once we finally tracked down the action, it was a whole lot of fun.

Plastered

I spent the day hanging around with Nick - the Kenyan born, British bred, Spanish living, ultimate traveller, who I'd met at Honey Valley then been on a wee roadtrip with (see previous two blogs). We found getting any information on what was happening for Holi pretty difficult, with nothing obvious apart from adverts for a few cheesy parties for the more affluent locals. The local newspapers were full of contradicting advice about whether that festival had in fact happened the day before, or whether it was that day. Google said very little. When we asked knowledgable people they scratched their head. And when we asked locals on the streets, we were lead on a massive wild goose chase. Not the laid back celebrations we'd hope for.

The first rule of Holi is to not wear your Sunday best as everything is guaranteed to get ruined, so I donned an old stained t-shirt and a cheap pair of shorts, and Nick wore clothes he was about to bin anyway. We followed a few possible tip-offs and went for a wander round the streets of Bangalore, down a local side road, a park, the outside of a military base and a market, seeing small trails of paint on the pavement but no people. An hour or so passed with no luck. We got a rickshaw to another district, and finally came across a few multi-coloured folks wandering along, face down, looking decidedly peeved about their paint attacks. Further on a group of young lads were gathered outside a shop, and we asked them where people were celebrating. Would you know it, they responded by covering us in paint. The game was on.

Pink boys

We bought ourselves an eight-pack of paints from a market stall, which are actually powder rather than liquid, and continued on. With all the locals on the next two streets looking decidedly normal, we stuck out slightly more than usual - two white guys covered in shades of turquoise and pink. Small groups of revellers started becoming more noticeable, and we greeted each other with a 'happy holi' followed by throwing handfuls of paint in each other faces. As you do. We fashioned our sunglasses into a form of safety goggle, which seemed to work surprisingly well until some clever bod decided to up the ante and start throwing water, which inevitably lead to a mere bit of face paint turning into an ocean of colour. The good side to all this we learnt, was that for once the shop owners and rickshaw drivers had no interest in pushing their services to us - heaven. By now we started coming across groups of ten or twenty people celebrating on the streets, mostly young lads, and there was a real energy in the air and smiles on faces.

We kept asking where the main events were but no-one seemed to know of any, so we decided to head a mile or two south to an area briefly mentioned in the newspaper. Finally, at long last, we found something. We came across a university where many students lined the road, covered head to toe in every shade of colour known to man, really embracing the spirit of the festival. We stood watching, and sure enough a few people approached us and started talking, before inevitably paint flew everywhere, then was rubbed over faces and into hair. Some of them took it a stage further and ripped off each other's shirts, but I managed to just about hold them back on this one, thankfully.

The aftermath - Nick and I. Took ages to clean off!

Whilst Nick and I were a long way from our student days, we just about got away with hanging around with these oh so young folks for half an hour or so before finally relenting, deciding the huge public celebrations we were looking for probably weren't happening in Bangalore. The only trouble was, now we wanted a rickshaw, no-one wanted to pick us up surprisingly enough! Eventually one guy, obviously desperate for the money, took us on though and soon we were back at the hotel. After twenty minutes of soap and scrubbing in the shower, I managed to get most of it off my face but my back, chest, and hair remained multi-coloured. And so it remained for three or four days. Holi was absolutely brilliant fun, and will remain a fond memory of my time in India.