Mysore market revisited

It is Thursday afternoon, and after a lunch of banana porridge and omelette at the Park Lane hotel (as you may have guessed, we still struggle to find things the kids will eat when we are out and about), and we decide to swing by the market again.

Mysore is famed for its bustling market. We had already been once when we first arrived, but at the time it was all a bit hot and bustly and a little intimidating. This time we return in the confidence that a) the only robbery likely to occur will be in the haggling b)  we have a vague layout of where everything is.

Mysore’s streets are always chock a block with people selling things:

Fruit like items. The umbrellas are for protection against the sun, not the rain. I am uncertain as to the origin of the fire. Something is always on fire round here. It’s like a law.

“Garlic”, says this man. “No problems with vampires at your house then”, I say, with a nod to the current vampire frenzy in both written and cinematic media. “Garlic”, he says again. It appears he may have  missed my witty zeitgeist observation.

And then we are plunged once again into the semi covered alleyways. 

We buy Beth another jasmine necklace and the old ladies crowd around her to attach it. I tell Beth that if she smiles sweetly at the stall owners (rather than wailing “nnnnnoooo” every time they approach her) they will give her free stuff. Which she does and they do. Beth is showered with flowers (pink), flowers (white), and a banana (small). She seems ecstatic at having extracted value from people for free. I fear that I have set her up for a lifetime of grifting.