A to B - Hampi to Mysore:
After staying in Bangalore, we moved on to Mysore. We tried to take the train (once every 4 hours), but then ended up taking the bus (once every 5 minutes!). Discovering the scary rules of the road, every overtaking manoeuvre had your heart in your mouth. The 3 hour journey was a road lined with entrepreneur's detached villas. In Mysore, we ignored the Rough Guide's recommendations and for the first time, strode out and found a hotel of our own.

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Flat plains, fat princes, fragrant perfumes, flustered pilgrims, frantic purveyors of farming produce...

Mysore is a rich Indian town and if most of it appears to have been spent by the local royalty on their opulent palace, the influence has rubbed off on the shear scale and density of business now conducted.

Teaming markets, overstuffed with improbable quantities of fruits and vegetables. Mile upon mile of crowded lanes with entrepreneurs of every sort. Essential oil scams. Electrical equipment retailers in such abundance that they are only outnumbered by the repairers of said same equipment, helpfully located near by. All apparently thriving despite a seemingly impossible ratio of buyers to sellers. Another contradiction that only seems possible in India and it makes Mysore as fascinating as it is impenetrable.

The tourists go to the palace with its outrageous decorations, arena sized show ground and 250 kg throne gold. They clamber up 1000 steps to join the stream of pilgrims at another auspicious temple titillation. But it is the markets and the back lanes where the real experience lies and the subtleties of saturation, of commerce unbounded, unfettered by the rules of the real world.

Plenty enough to make even us cynical Westerners gasp in incomprehension -"How do they do it?!".