One night in Bangalore

An Air Asia promotion bought months ago motivated this trip to south India. Staying two nights in Bangalore allowed us to order a year’s supply of meds before we went to Mysore and to pick them up on our way back. We expected a quick uninteresting stay. Our adventures were small, but memorable.

At the airport we purchased a taxi coupon. The taxi driver did not know where our hotel, the Golden Landmark, which was unsurprising since our travel agency wasn't familiar with it either. We knew that it was near the railroad station and gave the driver its phone number. He claimed that the number disconnected and then asked if we had already paid. Since we had, he soldiered on into the city. After a few unsuccessful inquiries by phone and rickshaw drivers he stopped at a small shop/stand and got complete directions. (My guess is that he had “taxi driver radar” to identify a fellow driver.)

The rest of the story:  The hotel receptionist verified that the number was correct. The desk clerk suggested that the taxi driver had called and immediately hung up. Our suspicion – he was getting ready to suggest an alternate hotel!

For dinner we stayed in the hotel. The dining room was dimly lit and the menu pages had a floral background that obscured several items. The menu separated Chinese, Indian, Northern India and veg and non-veg options and for each cuisine listed starters, soups, salads, and main. While we were watched over by a waiter we did a lot of page flipping. I first ordered coriander soup. As soon as I started to order the waiter  disappeared; He came back to with other waiters. After we completed our order, all three huddled over our order to puzzle it out. With at least 6 wait staff, the kitchen staff (heard but not seen) and us (the only dinners) it seemed like a scene inspired by Downton Abbey. 

At breakfast the waiter greeted us with “today breakfast is a la carte, I will bring you what you want.” The challenge was to decide what we wanted. A request for an Indian breakfast drew no response nor did a mention of roti. I may not have been specific enough, he may not have understood my accent, or he spoke virtually no English. Doug asked for toast. As the waiter left he kept saying “toast.” I assume it was an effort to remember the request until he could get it translated. An Indian family had a long conversation with him to figure out what was available and explain their order. Their young son’s facial expressions suggested that he found the ordering process as chaotic as we did.

When we arrived (around 7:00 p.m.) the hotel seemed as empty as its restaurant. During dinner we heard a shout that students had arrived. A gaggle of college-aged students was gathered in the lobby getting room assignments. Some of them were on our floor. During the night our doorbell rang, apparently a student trying to find a friend. We ignored the rings and they ended quickly. We were not as lucky at 6:00 a.m. when someone banged on our door and rang the bell. Even shouts of “wrong room” didn’t help. So Doug answered the door, which elicited a response of “sorry.”

We are coming back to Bangalore and the same hotel later in the week. I wonder what is in store for us.

Update: On our return we were greeted by the female receptionist, who is pleasant and competent. The restaurant was less chaotic. We walked around the neighborhood. To call it "dingy" may be a complement. If we return to Bangalore we will look for another hotel and neighborhood.