Hyderabad

or: The city of pearls (oh yes!)

Hyderabad has a special place in my heart (of course because of wonderful friends like U., M., A. and now K., but mostly because it is your city), so I was pretty excited to come back here again, although I could have stayed in Mumbai some more to enjoy our budding love story. 

We reached the city on the afternoon before Holi, settled into the hotel, admired our room from all sides ('Wow, a huge window!', 'A view all over the city!', 'Have you seen that bathroom?!') and decided to hail an auto downtown. After Mumbai with actually working meters, having to fight for a fair fare (;-)) was a bit of a challenge but you have to admire the excuses auto drivers found for not switching it on. From 'The meter is not working' to 'It will be 50 extra with the meter', we got the full range, meeting each one with an increasingly annoyed eye-roll. After having negotiated a more or less acceptable price for my chosen destination, Charminar, we board the auto downtown. 'What's Charminar?', M. asks me and I give her the same reply as to her repeated question 'Are we there yet?': 'You'll know :-)'. 
Charminar at dusk (ok, dusk doesn't take very long to turn into darkness in a tropical country), lit from underneath by a thousand lights is just beautiful, I could stand there staring up at it forever. And when I'm done staring up, I would start looking around, at the life, the people, the stalls exhibiting everything that is colourful or glittering. Oh btw, this is where we acquired our new name 'Kss kss madam', the beckoning call of Hyderabadi salesmen. Speaking of 'kss kss': In the hotel where we stayed (name and contact details available on request), the staff would read our every wish from our eyes. One evening, we were sitting in the restaurant, 'our' waiter standing about 7 metres away, busy with whatever work. I don't even remember what it was but I had a request and so I tentatively 'kss-kss'-ed in his general direction. Immediately, he lifted his head, looked at me and stormed over to our table, grinning. I laughed, slightly embarrassed but also pleased.
What else happened on that day? I met A. for the first time in real life after having known each other online for almost six years. We recognised each other immediately but what I couldn't refrain from saying - after noticing that we were about the same height - was that I thought he was a bit taller. 'And I thought you were a bit shorter', so his grinning response. All in all, it was a fun evening, apart from the fact that his car had decided to breathe fire, ok, smoke, which is bad enough.

The next day was the long awaited Holi that we had been dreaming about for years, enacted in the park here once and now practically planned this trip around. I've prematurely described the events of that day here, so I won't repeat it now. 

For Thursday, we had big plans. Since Hyderabad is the city of pearls, we decided that we needed to do some pearl shopping. 'The best person to go pearl and gold shopping with is my mum.' We took Mu.'s suggestion to heart and picked up Sh. the next morning. She was as friendly-reserved as I remembered her from last year but seemed genuinely pleased to see me again. Sh. told the driver (I just notice how decadent that sounds, taking a driver here and a driver there but in India, it's an affordable luxury for us) where to go on the hunt for M.'s golden nose ring and a general selection of pearly stuff. A few hours, an assortment of jewellery and a pair of new shoes each (M. had busted the strap of hers, stepping out of the car, and seeing the choice in the second shop, I couldn't resist buying a pair of green rhinestoney ones to match the salwar kameez I was wearing) later, we dropped Sh. back home, thanked her profusely for her expertise and patience and headed for our next destination: Shilparamam. Doesn't the name alone sound mysterious and inviting? It's a big area with a hundred arts and craft booths, eating places, open air theatres, statues and just spots to hang out and have a good time. We looked, smiled, negotiated and shopped quite a bit before giving in to the calls of the mehendi ladies near the entrance/exit of the park. 
What follows will be known in history as the great peacock competition: I don't even remember how it started but in the end, M.'s artist and mine, Anitha (again, contact details available - I asked for her card), tried to outplay each other in the number, size and beauty of peacocks they applied onto our hands, arms and feet so that we got more than our money's worth in henna designs.
The evening was spent having dinner with Mu. at Taj Krishna, a hotel M. had also considered for our stay in Hyderabad. But while it is beautiful and the waiters super nice and attentive as well, I'm glad that we picked the other one in the end: the staff at ours was much better looking ;-).

A. wanted to show me around a bit, starting with an excursion to Osmansagar, a lake and reservoir outside the city, an adjacent park and later a visit to the locally famous Golkonda Fort. He was even ready to let me drive his car on the road outside Hyderabad when - of course! - there was smoke coming out of the motor compartment again. So all his time spent in the garage the previous day had not amounted to much and our trip ended with us going back, me being dropped to the hotel, him visiting his mechanic once more.
So after catching up on some sleep and M.'s return from Birla Mandir, a beautiful white marble temple that looks out on the city, we payed a last visit to the Charminar area, looked at everything with eyes and hands, I bought and munched on a small bag of popcorn (nearly perishing from a coughing fit about halfway through before being narrowly saved by a shop assistant who offered me a glass of water) as well as avoiding (me) or giving in to the last 'kss kss'es (M.) and finally returning 'home' to get spoilt at dinner one more time.

And once more, it was time to pack our bags. How I hate packing! I seriously considered calling the reception or simply offering some money to one of the bellboys to do this unpopular job for me. Long story short, I pulled myself together and did the packing on my own. Just before leaving, we had another look at the pearl shop in the lobby, a look that turned into another small shopping spree. Well, you can never have too many gifts..

That was that for Hyderabad and our next and last big stop on this journey, Bangalore, was only one flight away.

Mumbai

"Mumbai is the most vibrant and lively city of all!" "This is the place I would choose to live." "You will love it!"

After the beauty and calm of Jaipur, we arrived in Mumbai in the late morning. The drive from the domestic (more to that later) airport to our hotel didn't take long but on that 20-minute-trip, I was everything but impressed. Not repulsed either, don't get me wrong, but my first impression was "meh". Admittedly, the fact that I was still a bit ill might have played a role but anyway. The area we had chosen was Juhu, yes, the one with the beach by the same name. And since said beach was no more than a couple hundred metres away from our temporary home, we decided to pay it a visit (after a nap on my and a quick excursion on M.'s part). I've said it before and I'll say it again: I can never be unhappy by the sea, so that is a definite plus for Mumbai. People had warned me about the beaches, so I was pleasantly surprised by the fine sand and the relative cleanliness of Juhu beach (I noticed the black streaks on my feet only later..). Not having had any problems or weird reactions to food so far, we went right away for one of several snack places. Dahi puri (as good as the best I've ever had, in that restaurant in Mysore last year - Ha., if you're reading this, do you remember?), dosa and the cutest pizza I had seen so far. Not much more to do that evening so we turned in after our little walk.

The next day was intended for some touristy sight seeing: Gateway of India, Taj Hotel, Victoria Station.. And that morning, we found out how Mumbai works: We caught an auto, the driver spoke reasonable English, a fact that should not be taken for granted in this city, so we told him that we wanted to go from Juhu to the Gateway of India (you might want to look that up on a map). No, he shook his head, he could take us to Bandra where we should hail a taxi. Confused, we agreed to this suggestion and noticed further along the way that there were really no autos going beyond Bandra. Oh, one more thing in favour of Mumbai: You don't have to put a gun to a driver's head to make them switch on the meter, no, they would do it of their own accord. "In Mumbai, no one has the time to negotiate fares" is what I have later been told, hence a working meter seems to be mandatory. 
The Gateway was as impressive as expected, as was the number of flying hawkers around the place - luckily I have the gift of selective blindness. We turned around and then an idea struck us: "Let's be daring and have a cup of tea at the Taj hotel!". No sooner said than done, we walked in, were received very friendly and pointed to the requested place. Before settling down, we took a little walk (and a number of photos) through the hotel, admired it from top to bottom and finally found ourselves a nice little table. The tea turned into a meal and decadently happy, we left the place some time later.

"You should go to Colaba. It's the old Bombay, the Southend of the city. Victorian architecture." As M. had other plans for our third day here, I headed for Colaba on my own, the usual way: hailing an auto in Juhu and switching to a cab in Bandra. At the main road where the taxi had spit me out, Colaba didn't seem very special. Shopping stalls lining it on both sides, offering the same things as everywhere and since I don't care much for shopping anyway, I didn't even give them a second glance before I turned left. And then right. And left again. The cityscape had changed a bit here. The Victorian houses were present, displaying a neglected charm which gave reason to the thought that nothing had been done to maintain them since the time the British had left.
After a couple more turns, I found myself on a market. Not one of those fancy clothes-shoes-jewellery markets but a food market: fruits, vegetables and fish in various stages of freshness. 
I kept walking and either I took a wrong turn somewhere or the market simply turned into a residential area with houses that were barely two metres apart. But except for a few children waving and yelling an enthusiastic "Helloooo!" at me - and that's something else I like about Mumbai: people's 'I don't give a damn' attitude - nobody really took notice of my presence, nobody stared, pointed or looked at me disapprovingly. When I came back to the main road, I decided to walk the other side of Colaba as well. Neat three-storey houses, well kept Victorian building, guys playing cricket on the street, large cars standing in freshly swept driveways. 
So here it happened; Colaba did what the rest of the city couldn't manage: It made me fall in love with Mumbai.
In the evening, I caught up with M. and her "son" V. V. is not actually related but a common online friend of ours from several years ago that she decided to e-adopt one day. We got to meet his pretty wife P., his parents (I'm particularly fond of his mum and I think that was mutual, she would be a good incentive for me to improve my Hindi) and eventually his brother.

Their plan for the following  day - our last complete one in Mumbai - was to spend some more time together, the young couple and M., and mine to visit my friend H. at her college. H. is a girl that I've met online when she was an ambitious 15-year-old schoolgirl. Now she is 20 and on her way to becoming a doctor. She is still ambitious, has learned to play with the cards life is dealing her and will get very far one day. H. lives in Navi Mumbai which judging by the time it took to get there (yes, I could have checked a map too) must be on the opposite side of town. Her college was just preparing for a festival but nevertheless I got a glimpse, she introduced me to a few of her teachers and gave me a general tour of her department. (By the way, some of you might remember my yearning for silver anklets since last year. And probably by telepathy, H. had picked exactly that as "an exciting gift" for me: a pair of silver anklets that make a noise, yay!!) After that, we both discovered an unknown to her as well as me part of the city: Dadar. A friend recommended that I'd have a look at the Portuguese church, a sacral building with an in every aspect very unusual architecture and the Five Gardens, five small parks that would be a nice place to hang out and play if you live in the area.
The wondrous finale of our day together was a visit to a - not her, as originally planned, but still - Gurdwara (Sikh temple). H. introduced us (because by then M. had joined us, too) to her religion, giving us an in-depth insight into its customs and conventions.

Oh and if you think that people are not genuine just because you met them on some chat or social networking site and not in "real life" first, I have to tell you that you're wrong. If you hit it off with someone online, chances are good that this will be the case at a "real" meeting as well. The proof in this story: H., V., K. and R., to name just a few.

Our flight to Hyderabad the next day was scheduled for the early afternoon, enough time for one last visit to the beach (sigh) which as it turned out, was even closer than I thought. 
Oh yea, the flight. Mumbai has two airports, a domestic and an international one. Since our next flight was going to Hyderabad, it seemed only logical that we would leave from the domestic airport, so that's what we told the driver. He dropped us and our constantly increasing luggage there. I sat on a bench inside the building, M. went out for a smoke and returned coughing hectically a few minutes later with the information that our flight only had a stop-over in Hyderabad before leaving the country. Hence our destination would be the international airport - argh! After a short but intense debate, we embarked another taxi and reached the correct airport on time, heading for the place of our next adventure, the City of pearls.

Jaipur .. ah!!

M. had made it pretty clear from the beginning that we were not going to take a bus, so after saying good bye to R. - who was going back in the opposite direction, feigning urgent work  - we entered a car, complete with local driver and Hindi music galore. *hums in her head*

The drive went smoothly, with a few stops for M. to smoke and for the two of us to change between back and front seat, a process that seemed to greatly amuse our driver. We passed by a few camels on the way (well, ok, not on the highway but on smaller roads) and then we were there.

Ah Jaipur! How can you not love Jaipur! And for that matter: How can you not love Rajasthan!?! The colours, the ancient and modern buildings, the art, the clothes, the people and did I mention the colours? When we reached our hotel, there was an arts and craft festival going on, with typical Rajasthani handicraft being displayed and sold, painters at work and musicians showing their skills tirelessly. 

But even the hotel itself was a piece of art. Built in the typical Rajasthani style with open balconies looking down upon two large inner yards. The rooms furnished with appliances in the same style, wide yet cosy. This is where I acquired my new favourite colour, switching rainbow for Rajasthani. Followers of my facebook album will get an impression of all that this entails. In Jaipur, I decided that if I get the job I applied for in Bangalore, I would go back to Jaipur or any other city in that area to buy all things Rajasthani for my flat.

What did we do in Jaipur, what's there to see? On our first evening (out of  - sigh - just two), we hired an auto driver (coordinates available if you are interested) with his vehicle who took us to an ancient Hanuman temple (yes, I was allowed to take pictures and even had to buy an official ticket for my camera - M. and I were free although she donated generously after having had a good talk with the local priest). On the next day, the same auto driver drove us all over town, dropping me to the fort (and M. to a nearby café) which I climbed in the heat of the midday sun. The walk was not very steep, the sun not too merciless and my brain not too scattered to remember taking water with me. I came across a few guys, had a nice chat, one of them trying to undertake the impossible: explaining cricket to me. By now, I have a slightly better insight into the game but I still don't understand why it needs to last for five days (no, please don't waste your energy trying to make me understand that phenomenon now). 

Fort visited, others found, off to the next stop: Hava Mahal. The palace is under construction or rather repair, so there is scaffolding all over it. Although it looks less monumental this way, you still get an impression of its size and beauty. Quick picture taken (the driver would barely let me get out, claiming that this was not a good area) and we were on our way again. 

At the recommendation of my friend H. (thanks, lil one!), I asked for a quick detour to Raj Mandir, a cinema hall with beautiful mirrorwork. Since they made it impossible to take a quick peek just like that, I bought the cheapest ticket available, wandered around in the hall, took photos a-plenty and was about to sneak back out when an elderly usher asked to see my ticket and accompanied me to my seat. Whyever not, I thanked him, sat down and watched a few minutes of a presumingly new Hindi movie without any subtitles at all. A few minutes of this experience sufficed, I left and answered the usher's question whether I was coming back with a non-committal "Maybe".

Now for the less agreeable part: shopping. (All in all I must say that I've never done so much shopping in such a comparatively short time before in my life and I'm not keen on repeating the experience any time soon.). The fun part is however that I've become pretty efficient at bargaining. I'm sure I still pay tourist prices but at least I put up a fair fight.

On the last evening at our colourful jewel of a hotel, we enjoyed a lovely meal in the garden, accompanied by live music.

The next day, off to new adventures in the shape of Mumbai.