From Delhi to Mysore with protests, delays, and unexpected kindness

by wrensrambles@gmail.com 2 comments

We’re onto Day Nine and things take an unexpected wild turn. Read on to follow my India travel story from the chaotic journey from Delhi to Mysore as protests, delays, and unexpected kindness shape my Incredible India adventure.

Indira Gandhi International Airport

My night was spent at the City Park Airport Hotel, arriving just before midnight. A comfortable room, free Wi-Fi, and an inedible breakfast — all for under £50. A good deal, really (as long as brekkie was not high on your agenda!)

The following day, back at Indira Gandhi International Airport for the third time in ten days, I notice the signs proudly declaring it the world’s second-best airport. I can see why: spotless terminals, free trolleys (take note, Melbourne), lounges with showers and nap zones, strong security, and even free Wi-Fi — provided your mobile works well enough to receive the access code!

My GoAir flight to Bangalore even leaves a little early, and for a moment, everything is running smoothly. On arrival my bags arrive, the driver is waiting with my name on a sign, and the car boasts the slogan Incredible !ndia splashed across its side. So far, so good.

Arriving in Bangalore

That’s when the adventure begins. At the bus terminal where I’m expecting to board a luxury coach bound for Mysore, I discover my bus has been cancelled.

Yesterday’s regional protest — a Bandh — still lingers. The farmers are furious about water from the Cauvery basin being diverted away from drought-hit villages. The main road between Bangalore and Mysore is reportedly still blocked.

Plan B

Plan B? Not great. The driver is told to put me on a local, non-air-conditioned bus. “Absolutely not” I tell him! One quick call to our travel agent, and my very kind driver agrees to attempt the drive instead.

Roadtrip via Maddur and Mandya

We make it as far as Maddur before the road is blocked. So, we head off through the countryside — lush, green, almost mocking the idea of a water crisis. We pass palm trees and oxen hauling impossible loads. In one village, we arrive just moments before the locals start dragging branches across the road to block it.

Soon, tyres are burning, smoke is rising, and young men sit defiantly across the tarmac. One older man, clearly intoxicated, splashes what looks like kerosene over the branches to cheers from the crowd. It feels chaotic, but oddly contained. Eventually, tempers cool, and we edge carefully past.

Arriving in Mysore

By Mandya — “Sugar City” — we see the blackened remains of the earlier protests. From there, the road opens up, and by 6 p.m., I’m rolling into Mysore, amazingly I’m only an hour behind schedule.

That night, I’m rewarded with the magical sight of the illuminated Mysore Palace and a stroll through the local market.

It feels good to be back with the group, safe and sound, in Incredible India. Read on for more India Travel stories.