The first week of yoga saw me getting up at 4.30 am each morning. At this time there is no sound other than that of the wind blowing through the coconut trees. It is so lovely to see the main street of Gokulam deserted, as during the day it is a cacophony of sounds and sights. My practice goes from standing postures to sitting postures just as the sun rises and lights up the Shala with a soft light. After practice many go to the corner coconut stand and drink and eat young green coconuts. Then home for a nice hot shower, if you are lucky enough to live somewhere like Joseph’s, whose hot water is constant and plentiful. By 9.30 am the community of yogis descent on various wonderful ‘backyard’ restaurants that cater especially for yoga practitioners. These excellent eateries seem like well kept secrets, with very unassuming, small signs indicating only the name and not the business.

Tina’s is also fabulous and features a more Indian style breakfast as well as fruit salad, fresh juices and eggs. Not only is the food excellent, but Tina also makes the best tomato chutney I have ever had. I even managed to smuggle a large jar of it across the borders back to Sydney. I am toying with the idea of having it analysed. So far I think I detect cinnamon, peas, tomatoes, and either fennel or star of anise…. And, when you meet Tina you will be pleasantly surprised.  She is not your typical shy Indian lady. Matter of fact, if she was an American you would bet she was a New Yorker.

Then there is Santosha, which is also just up the road from the Coconut Stand. Here they have a genius for baked goods. You walk in and the breads, cakes and biscuits will be steaming enticingly on the bench. The peanut butter here is the best in town and yogis will travel from far and wide simply for the taste of a slice of warm bread with peanut butter. Don’t be surprised to hear Johnny Cash on the sound system followed by Jimi Hendrix.

To find these places, simply ask any rickshaw driver and they will get you there. They all close before noon and only Tina’s other restaurant opens after noon and serves dinner until late.

And, talking about rickshaw drivers; Joseph recommended several drivers who all will do their best to drive you safely and efficiently around Mysore. I was pleasantly surprised when Appu decided to take me under his wing, so to speak. “I am body guard, security, brother and driver,” he smilingly assured me with a strong wiggle of his head. This proved to be true. Over the three weeks of my stay he became my driver, carrying heavy photographic equipment for me, managing crowds when they accumulated around us at shoots, taking me to various shops (at which, of course, he would receive kickbacks from my purchases), sat security over any bags or purchases stored in his rickshaw and organised overseas shipping for me. This actually was one of those “this-is-India” experiences. When sending goods overseas the parcel has to be sewn into a cloth covering. A specialist does this. In my case Appu took me to Mahade on Asoka Road whose parcel packing expertise is legendary in Mysore. Despite the legend it took him three cigarettes, 50 phone calls, a quick toilet stop and two and a half hours to wrap two parcels. This is also not a cheap service and 500 rps (around $10) seemed very expensive, but not as expensive as sending parcels overseas. A maximum of 20 kg will cost around $130. This is still cheaper than paying overweight luggage costs at the airport, where this will set you back around $600.

Knowing how much to pay a rickshaw driver can also be difficult and it is therefore highly recommended to insure they turn their meter on. Any little extra is accepted with a broad smile and in Appu’s case with passionate gratitude and an explanation of how you are helping his family, including wife, children, both sets of parents and as far as I can tell various uncles, aunts and cousins. All of this is actually true; he supports his whole family, as many a working Indian man does, with a very meager wage. Any money earned above and beyond is spent on either extra food or childrens' school needs. It is wise though to be fair rather than overly generous with tips, as throwing money all over the place can be cause for resentment in others who do not receive such generosity and expectations of a continuous flow of generosity can be high. Nevertheless, it is important to negotiate prices and Appu certainly taught me a few things on how to get the best value for your Rupee.

Should you be in need of a good driver call him and tell him ‘Sister Sandra’ gave you his number and to make sure he gives you a good price (Appu Ph: 9900302645). It is the only way to travel in Mysore and despite the jarring bumps on the roads it will connect you with the world around.

Shopping is of course one of the main and most wonderful experiences in Mysore, which is famous for its silk. I believe I bought enough saris for a life-time and the kickbacks to Appu will pay for both his childrens' college fees. I had a hard time resisting the prices and pure silk saris can be bought from 300 rps ($6) up to 25,000 rps ($540). After two anxious hours in the store I had bought 10 saris. I then had them turned into bed coverings and cushion covers at the local tailors’ for about $10 a set.

The frivolity aside Mysore is definitely a yogi town. If you come to Mysore you might as well follow a path of yogic enlightenment. There are Ayurvedic centres and schools, various forms of meditation classes, Sanskrit classes as well as yogic philosophy classes and of course Ashtanga and a very well known Iyengar teacher training school. But, I shall expand on those next week in my upcoming post. Until then…..

Namaste

The Travelling Ashtangi