Carruthers is NOT dead

Well it transpires that Carruthers is not dead and was, in fact, staying in Mysore. Unable to make Ooty in time, he'd opted for The Hotel Cockroach as recommended by a kindly auto-rickshaw driver (So what have we learned?) Genuinely, he sat up all night with a can of pest spray, killing cockroaches. Still, at least he had hot water!

The following morning he tried to get his bike out of the underground car park and discovered a small problem. 

That pile of logs is slightly blocking the exit ramp! The reception staff had a think and, with the originality for which India is famous, carried the bike up a fire escape.

Anyhoo, my ride down from Ooty was fun. There was less traffic on the Mysore side which meant I could enjoy the roads a bit more. Obviously there were the usual scary illegal overtakes but otherwise no problems....Well, I did have to ride through a tiger reserve but managed to escape with only a very minor bumming

I had persuaded Carruthers to leave the delights of the Cockroach Hotel and move to The Park Lane. He was out having therapy when I arrived so I got straight on with the serious business of drinking. We like the Park Lane because, apart from hot water and bog roll, they also give you a complementary sponge bag containing toothpaste and a comb. A bit random but welcome nonetheless. Since Carruthers has no hair, I nicked his comb, which I'll keep specifically for my trouser hair.

Once I'd had a cheeky couple and combed my hair, we headed off in a tuk tuk to Mysore Palace. The driver insisted on waiting for us because he was really very keen to show us his brother's sandalwood factory or some such nonsense. Hmm!

Anyway, the palace interior was breathtakingly beautiful. Apart from the ornate marquetry and stunning stained glass, they also had a gold plated howdah (a sort of saddle for elephants) complete with a fly whisk made from ivory. Now, ivory isn't noted for being particularly flexible but it just goes to show what can be achieved if you're rich and very insistent. 

Anyway, we snuck out through the Princess' Back Passage or some such, to avoid the pushy tuk tuk driver. Don't worry though coz he caught up with us later at the hotel.

We then got another tuk tuk to some bar and, again, the driver insisted on coming back to pick us up later. Unfortunately, the bar was a bit rubbish so we snuck home in another tuk tuk. Every driver now has our photo on his dashboard and not in a nice way. 

After more beers and curry in The Park Lane, I combed my hair and went to bed