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I spent just over $4.00 for a bus ticket to Mysore, a small city in the South of Karnataka, India. The city is well known for it’s spectacular palace and its fabulous silk production, but I was not on my way to see either. In fact, I wasn’t on my way to Mysore at all, it was merely a stop along the way.

Friday afternoon a group of six other US students and I went to the bus station closest to us in Bangalore and boarded a bus to Mysore in hopes of seeing a wildlife reserve in Wayanad, Kerala on Saturday. With seven foreign students, smaller towns, and nothing planned in advance it turned out to be a weekend full of adventure!

The bus ride to Mysore was very pleasant. We rode in a nice air-conditioned coach the likes of which we might have rode in if traveling in the US. We all stared out the windows hungrily, feasting on the various sites along the way. Everyone was in good spirits and disappointment was impossible. We saw fields being plowed by bulls, carts pulled by horses, camels grazing, shepherds and their flocks, small temples, large temples, huts, and gorgeous homes. The most beautiful sites I saw, and plentiful as well, were open fields, trees, and mountains. I could not tell from walking around Bangalore, but India is a truly beautiful country…when you can actually see it!

The bus ride was a bit longer than we had anticipated, but we were still cheerful and climbed out of it already looking for the next bus. Glancing around us, we began to realize the enormity of the situation. We were in a smaller town where fewer people spoke English and still less spoke it in a way that we could understand. Communication was definitely an obstacle for us, but we were determined, so we kept walking around asking people where we could buy tickets. We were given the impression that tickets could be bought once the bus was boarded, so we were feeling good about that, but we still didn’t know where to pick up the next bus or when it would arrive. The more we asked, the more answers we were given. Different answers. “Uh oh!” We decided to spend the night in Mysore and storm the bus station with fresh batteries in the morning.

We walked around to a few hotels, checking out the way the rooms looked and comparing prices. We ended up staying in a very nice hotel and I shared a room with another girl for a cost of about $22 each. We ate dinner at the restaurant in the hotel and went for a walk around the town. Some people wanted to find a bar and have a beer, but we quickly found out that bars in small towns are much different than in Bangalore. The few we found were tiny hole-in-the-wall kind of places with working class men. Only men. The minute we appeared in front, everyone stared out the door to see what we were going to do . . . needless to say we moved on! We went to another restaurant at a different hotel and spent a few hours chatting there. Everyone was very friendly and helpful.

Saturday morning we packed up and headed to the bus station. We lucked out and found someone that understood where we wanted to go. They helped us out by pointing out the right bus when it showed up, so after an hour of waiting we piled onto a much smaller economy-style bus. There was no air-conditioning, but none of us minded much as the windows were all open and we were able to ‘feel’ India as well as see it as we drove by. People piled on as the ride continued and we got to sit by a variety of strangers, but the most uncomfortable part of the ride was when it started to rain and metal shutters were pulled down over the windows. I had gone from ‘feeling’ India to being trapped in an over-crowed metal cage that vaguely resembled a garbage can. I wanted to throw a fit like a child, but I settled for silent pouting instead.

We ended up staying in a very nice hotel again in the Wayanad district, and spent the night walking around the town. Once again everyone was very nice, but also super curious. I am not exaggerating at all when I say that most of the people we passed literally stopped in the street and just stared. Many people said hello, which may be common in the US but is a rarity here in India when you have not already been acquainted with the person. Apart from the rain, which had become an eighth travel companion, we were having a good time. I had brought a deck of Phase 10 cards with me from home, and spent the night teaching my fellow travelers how to play. I went to bed exhausted, but happy . . . even after I peeled my wet clothes off to find that the scarlet dye in my outfit had stained my skin pink!

We woke up at 5:00 a.m. and walked along the street until we found a coffee stall. Restaurants do not open until 8:30 or 9:00 a.m. so we drank our coffee and walked back to the hotel to call a cab. Unfortunately we forgot that it was now Sunday and the reserve did not open until 7:30 a.m. so we had to wait awhile. The wait was not too long though, and we headed out in the back of a very neat little jeep-like vehicle. After paying 100 rupees (20 times that of the Indian resident rate, but still only about $2 US) we piled back into the jeep that picked us up and headed out into the reserve. We ended up seeing a very pretty species of deer, razor-back boar, and elephants. There were many other animals on the reserve (even tigers) but a combination of rain, noise, and staying on the roads limited the ones we could see. To me, it was worth going to see the elephants alone, so we packed up and headed home tired and satisfied.

The trip back took 9 hours total, but was not too terribly adventurous apart from the blown out tire we experienced 40 kilometers outside of Bangalore. The bus pulled over and we scrambled out while the conductor flagged down passing buses. Most were already full, so only a few people at a time could get on, but eventually everyone found a bus and continued their trip back. Arriving in Bangalore many of us exclaimed how good it was to be home, even if we preferred the countryside to the huge mass that is Bangalore. Climbing into an auto rickshaw (auto) I laughed to myself thinking about how quickly a home away from home can be acquired. As I unlocked the door to my apartment, which is not nearly as nice as the hotels we had stayed in, I felt the familiar sense of relief that comes with ending a vacation and returning home. I may only be here for a short while, and enjoy my return back to Michigan when it comes, but for now I am home.