One week in Mysore

The journey took eleven hours. Eleven hours of relaxation and sleep, for Lilli and Allison maybe, but for me like an idiot previous to getting on the bus I read that the railway network here is the most dangerous in the world but is considerably safer than using the buses as nearly 135000 people died on the roads here in 2010 and more deaths are occurring each year. Now as you may know in previous posts I am not very keen on how the Indian people take to the roads. I don't want to continuously go on about this but pedestrians, cyclists, motorcyclists, bus drivers and lorry drivers, I'm sorry if I've left any particular demographic of road user out but they all seem to have a death wish! And I was a tad nervous on this 11 hour overnight semi-sleeper bus service. My vision out of the front of the vehicle was obscured by a curtained partition. There was a gap in this partition and it would have been better for me if there wasn't this teasing little gap. Every glare from every headlight coming towards us, to me was a potential crash. I pictured myself embedded in twisted metal and some little Indian man cutting me out of the wreckage with the jaws of life, that's even if they have them here which I'm doubting they do. They believe in reincarnation here so its not a problem for them if they die in a collision as they can go on to bigger and better things but for me I'd be fucked.

We are staying at the Mystic School in Gokulam, Mysore. There is the Mystic cafe upstairs where they serve delicious home cooked Indian food. 150 rupees for lunch which is approximately 1 pound 50 pence for a buffet. Eat as much as you like! It would have been Bob heaven! Bob my dad who's sadly passed away was a connoisseur in finding the cheapest buffet he could, it didn't matter how good the food was just the price and that he could fill his tardis of a belly, for a skinny man his appetite was immense. I don't think he ever found one for that price and especially not with that standard of lovely food. The food is incredible here. In England cauliflower is one of the most boring vegetables, cauliflower cheese is the most exciting thing we can do with a cauliflower and it is a rather tasty dish I might add but these Indians can do the most amazing stuff with a cauliflower. They can conjure dishes that are out of this world. Deep fried cauliflower with a dipping sauce, Gobi Manchurian which is fried cauliflower with a spicy sauce. I could eat it every day here, at home once a week is more than enough.

Have you ever seen anyone going through cold turkey? Well I can tell you its not a pretty sight. At first they start fidgeting, they then get headaches, they can't sleep and are basically stressed out and tense. Well imagine the joy I felt when Allison finally found a gym and could have a cardio workout. So many things to see here in Mysore but the only sightseeing my wife wants to do is to see the calorie counter on a treadmill. Cardio vascular exercise, Allison's drug of choice.

Mysore is the birth place of Ashtanga yoga. In Varkala me and Allison attended a Hatha yoga class. Now the difference between these two styles of yoga is simple. Let me draw you an analogy, Hatha- your having a lovely relaxing Sunday stroll taking in the beautiful scenery. Ashtanga- this stroll that your on turns into a sprint away from a group of skinheads that have come around the corner and decided they want to kick your arse and you don't want your arse kicked so you have to keep on running in the opposite direction no matter what!
On our third day here we found an Ashtanga vinyasa class that started at 08:30 in the morning. Ashtanga with Raghu. Now don't get me wrong I do like doing yoga although I find it frustrating at times, to me it is a type of torture, a battle, a war. Not of two tribes going against each other but this personal battle that happens between your own mind, body and soul. For me the experience seems to jump between meditation, frustration, happiness and of course anger. Anger at how shit I'm doing. The Indian teacher is extremely good and his flexibility is great and he can hold the poses with ease. I on the other hand have the flexibility of a board and with his slight adjustments of my body I want to challenge him to a running race. Nothing too far, perhaps just a 5k, just enough to rub his face in his inability to keep up with me. Yes my Indian friend you can bend over and see your own backside but can you beat me in a race?

I've had this cold more or less since we arrived and it seems to die down and then rear its ugly head again. I awoke to a snotty nose, cough and the thought of remaining in bed and not going to the 08:30 yoga class again this morning. "Oh come on, challenge your ego" Allison said. Nuff said, out of bed, teeth brushed and of to the class we trot. On arrival I asked Raghu if we could do a Hatha class, as I've I mentioned earlier its less intense and the way I was feeling would have been better for me. Not only that the day before he asked us what style of yoga we wanted, Hatha or Ashtanga. Yesterday I was feeling hard, today I was feeling like a wimp. Mistake! I think this soft westerner must have pissed him off, we started off nice and comfortably with some pranayama (breathing exercises) to help with my blocked nose. He then took us through sequences where I felt he was trying to punish me. Hold a posture, my body's screaming at me, I'm holding, waiting for the okay, waiting for times up, waiting to release the pose but I'm still waiting and holding. I'm battling against him, myself, Allison (who's annoyingly actually enjoying the class) and my you've guessed it, the worst one, my fucking ego!  Which won't let me come out of the pose before Raghu says release. "Fifteen more seconds" announces Raghu, my legs are wobbling like crazy, I'm suffering and every part of my body is feeling it "and release". I think his mission was to try and snap my spine as he kept making us do lots of more and more intense back bends, which I'm no good at at the best of times, but as you can see Allison is more than capable.

 He beat me down mentally and physically. There is no place to run and hide in an Ashtanga vinyasa class.

We finally had a trip around Mysore today. Allison managed to get an Ashtanga class in beforehand (sadly I stayed in bed) but had to forego the gym which she wasn't overly impressed about. We hired a tuk tuk for the day which was driven by Saleem and myself I might add. He gave me the opportunity to take the wheel and I thought I can't be any worse than these crazy people.

We had a pleasant walk up Chamundi Hill where a group of teenagers decided to start throwing things at us, luckily their aim wasn't true. After which they wanted their photo taken with Allison, "yes if you stop throwing stuff at us" I said trying to be a polite forgiving gentleman.

Throwing things was the least of our worries as the boy on the left of Allison started to lower his hand towards her breast. Allison not being very accommodating to his advances pulled away and punched him hard. Strangely stunned (according to them apparently its OK to molest women) they scattered and ran in different directions leaving one of his flip flops lying on the pavement (why didn't I launch his flip bloody flop back down the hill?). 

1000 steps to the top of Chamundi Hill, I wanted to walk the whole way but Saleem dropped us off 200 steps from the top and even that seemed quite a feat. 

To be blessed by God the Hindu's walk up the 1000 steps and mark each one individually with bright colours. Some of them crawl up on their hands and knees which can take all day. This ritual doesn't happen once in a blue moon, some of them do it once a week.

      A group of three women marking each individual step, they have about 150 to go.

After the steps Saleem took us to a silk producing factory that made Sari's. The place was government run and no photography was allowed. To see a proper Indian factory with hundreds of looms with hundreds of workers was an experience. The noise was incredible and it was strange to see the majority of workers without ear plugs whilst the minority were wearing a pair. After coming out the noise still remained with us and is was like we had been at heavy metal gig all night. One Sari, two thousand of your British pounds please. Some of them were interlaced with Gold and Silver.

                                  The Maharajah's Palace was next on the agenda.

40 rupees for Indians, 200 rupees for foreigners, welcome! At least I don't feel so bad now when the locals sting you for a few more rupees, I did take it personally but when government run attractions do it blatantly what can you say.  The palace was good but we were more interested in the cows outside. When we left the palace some cows were walking across a roundabout in the middle of the city whilst heavy traffic had to deviate around them. Its weird in a city with a population of nearly a million inhabitants that cows just roam freely.

Our next stop was a place which seemed like someones house where they made incense sticks and essential oils. This little old lady rolled out 6000 incense sticks a day. To do that many she must go into some kind of meditative state.

Our local area of Gokulam is a suburb in Mysore. There are a lot of westerners that come here to do yoga teacher training. Outside our window is like a little farm yard in this haven of meditation and yoga. There are dogs, goats, chickens, cockerels and turkeys just roaming around the streets. When we venture out depending on where the turkeys are situated we may have to take a detour as Allison is not very keen on walking passed them. I have seen them running after a woman and some kids so her fright isn't totally unwarranted. The cocks start crowing at an ungodly hour and mess with our sleep. 

                        The turkeys paired up and looking out for potential victims. 

Allison's Ashtanga experience continued with Jaiprakash, his name even sounded scary, "I'll stay in bed" I informed Allison. A good job too because apparently the class was really hard and he was very strict. There were six people in the class who all bar two (one of which was Allison) could do the whole of the primary series. "Sit this sequence out" Jaiprakash instructed a male student. If I was there I would have been sat down in a corner for long periods with my rigid and taut body. Allison said I would have hated it.

On our second to last day here Allison has found her potential Guru. A small Indian man called Badri. I on the other hand stayed in bed again whilst she went to have an Ashtanga class. With Badri's jovial and positive teaching skills she managed to perform postures better than she had in the past, he focused a lot on the breathing element to enhance and deepen the different poses.

Allison with her potential Guru Badri

I have come to the realisation that my usual competitive ethos towards training cannot be applied to Yoga. The more I push or compete with myself or those around me the further I seem to descend into a tight ball of frustration. I've read that flexibility doesn't come from stretching the muscles, the range of movement improves by your ability to switch off your pain receptors and in doing so you can bend or twist further because you no longer feel the pain. Under anaesthesia your body can be put through its full range of motion. So that's it then! I need a dose just before entering an Ashtanga class so I can contort my body into all those crazy positions they do and not feel a thing. Then I won't feel so useless and won't have to challenge anyone to a fucking race! 

Today we are off to Agonda in Goa to spend Christmas, we are both looking forward to being by the beach again. Another overnight bus journey awaits, great.