Mysuru

Mysore is the the city of yoga someone told us but we didn’t exactly find any proof of that. For us it’s the first "bigger" Indian city so we’re a bit lost. By the way the second Airbnb was a hidden gem. The host family was incredibly cute and compared to the let’s call it a man cave we now have a cute little apartment with terrace.

Compared to the state Kerala, Karnataka seemed a bit less smily and a bit more starry. We decided to do some sightseeing what could possibly go wrong, right?

The Mysore palace seemed the palace to be. We sneaked our way in with shoes in our hands and got caught. So we turned around walked all the way back to the shoe stationery. Given the chaos there we decided to sneak in again this time with the shoes hidden in our bags.

Inside we watched thousand hours of work. Gold, silver, and ivory work. While we where paying attention to architecture and paintings it seemed that all the other visitors where paying attention to us. In other words: children got basically thrown at us and forced to take pictures with complete strangers. Just as we wanted to make an excuse after the 172895 selfie a new line was all formed up - patiently waiting to take a photo with us. It’s a thing. Even an old really old granddad timidly stood next to Pascal while the grandmother was explaining that he is to shy to stand next to a woman. I waved him over.. what are you gonna do?

We finished our day in a European trash place with extra woke European yogis drinking real European coffee.Okumaya devam et