Stare-alore

I'm nearly there...

I'm 147 miles to Mysore. This is what I have been waiting for. I have such an amazing time relaxing in my villa in Pondicherry but for the past few days I have become a little bored to say the least. I have also been craving an English conversation. That's not to say that I'm home sick, just wanting some conversation and interaction with someone who doesn't see me as 'them', meaning foreigner, woman, white or beneath me. 

I decided to change my travel plans getting to AYM. I had intended getting the bus from Pondy to Chennai, staying overnight there, then taking my return flight to Bangalore and finally a private taxi to Mysore. 

Finances said 'NO!'

Although the plane ticket had already been bought, the additional monies involved in an overnight stay in Chennai and the ₹500 per extra kg (+10kg) in total would have been too much. Besides, being alone in a taxi with a man out here - not a good feeling in my tummy! I took the advice of my friend Navni, a beautiful girl working at Mantra, to take an A/C sleeper bus direct to Bangalore, where I could catch another one direct to Mysore. This was far more cost effective, amounting to just ₹1207.

I opted for the A/C as I'm noticing that comfort is becoming a priority of mine, especially when compared to Indian standards. I selected a bed on the upper bunk and gobbled up a couple of melatonin to ensure I slept through this horrific journey - Indian roads combined with constant honking and tentative breaks would keep even someone like me awake - 'You've always been a door-mouse Emma' I hear you say Susan. There was no question about it, it was definitely an A/C bus, so much so that the baltic blast of air never ceased and I woke up at least a dozen times trying to keep warm and reverting to my trusty Berghaus. 

With the1st leg over with, I arrived in Bangalore this morning, taking rest in a 'hotel' until my bus at 2:00pm. I wanted to grab a shower and lie down on a proper bed. Well...again, no hot water, constant power cuts and filthy. Hey Ho, I'm in India, roll with it. I went out for a walk and it's the same everywhere. I was the only white person, the only woman and gosh do I stand out! People cannot stop staring. It's starting to become really frustrating and if this happened at home I might get really upset. My every movements are monitored, I cannot walk into a side market without being followed down the aisles. They literally scan me up and down. When they notice that I can see them, they don't stop, they just continue staring. Now I’ve been to India before, I’ve even been to the remote island of Lombok, and I’ve never felt it to be as intense as this. Perhaps I'm just ultra-sensitive right now because I don't have the safety of the Italians or a group of fellow backpackers. Either way, I'm appreciating the cultural disparities between home and here.

I can now hear the stern words from my mother:

'Emma, it's rude to stare!'