Words by Greta Rybus & Surbhi Mittal - Photographs by Greta Rybus
An extract from the India magazine.
India isn’t known as the ideal setting for a road trip - many assume it’s more traffic bedlam than scenic drives - but I discovered otherwise when embarking on a journey from Bangalore to Mysore with Kamalan, a cultural agency that curates immersive journeys for travellers. On this road trip, one filled with lush paddy fields and greenery, I was to set to explore an ancient culture rich in architectural diversity and artistic pursuits.
Our route took us through the heart of Karnataka in southwest India, where many of its 61 million residents speak a regional language called Kannada. Southern India, in general, is known to have a more relaxed atmosphere, with the same refined gentleness and appreciation for beauty that typifies most of the country.
We began in Bangalore with an early morning visit to the flower markets, where blossoms and garlands overflowed from baskets, before departing for Mysore, hailed as the country’s second most beautiful city. Our journey was broken at the Gumbaz, Tipu Sultan’s mausoleum, where we heard the call to prayer from a mosque adjacent to the graves of royalty. Down the road, we watched the sunset at the confluence of two rivers, while women and their husbands fished together in round-bottom boats and the devout preformed sacred rites waist-deep in the water.
I was in India at the beginning of their hottest seasons, when international tourists depart and Indians take the time to explore their country. Arriving in Mysore, we joined the 12,000 visitors who come to admire Amba Vilas Palace daily, soaking up the decadence and local history. Despite the heat and crowds, we found moments of sweetness and stillness.
My Kamalan guide explained that it was vital I take advantage of the region’s treats, so we stopped to buy sweets made of caramelised ghee, called Mysore pak, and enjoy dishes cooked with coconut milk and fresh spices, followed by sugary and salty lime sodas. We woke early one morning to view the sunrise over the Chamundi Hills and observe the Brahmin priests prepare to wash temples. We met labourers and artisans at woodworking shops and silkworm factories, and talked to farmers, shepherds and priests. Back in the car we listened to the distinct melodies of Carnatic music, admiring how the scores of Southern India blend so wonderfully with the sound of car horns.