Aga Khan Palace, Pune, India

Shrine

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did visit the Aga Khan Palace in the North of Pune, India, in November 2014, arriving by Rickshaw (100r), a fairly modern pavilion-type building where Ghandi was detained for some time, in unremarkable grounds. Entry was 200r which allowed the viewing of a few rooms of faded photographs and a couple of nice statues marked "do not touch". I did not know Mahatma well, but I have no doubt he would have approved of children not touching his statue. There was also a barely kept shrine. For Gandhi completists only.

Narcopolis

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did read Jeet Thayil's novel "Narcopolis" (2012), finishing it on the train to Bangalore. It describes the challenge 70s Pakistani powder posed to the notorious Bombay opium dens, which are, consequently, now hard for even the most dodgy of local guides to track down. The narrative drifts around the denizens, and some sections are tangential even to that. There is a plot and a final twist. But, finally, not much matters in a opium den.

Facing the Congo

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did read "Facing the Congo" by Jeffrey Tayler (2000), in October 2014, mainly on the Northern Line. It is the story of his trip down the Congo from Kisangani in a local canoe. I was a bit puzzled to find myself halfway through the book without him having stepped in the canoe, but the mystery is solved if you paddle through to the end! He has a taste for the purple sentence, the first of the book being "The squawks of parrots filtered down into the black well of sleep and slowly called me up into the lighter realms of wakefulness", which is all you need to know, really. And there is occasional pontification, concluding: "I had exploited Zaire as a playground on which to solve my own rich-boy existential dilemmas". Well, there are worse ways to exploit Zaire. But it is not all that bad, with some great characters (I would have liked to know more about the "Colonel") and in fact gets quite exciting towards the end!

Mysore Palace, India

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, did visit the Mysore Palace, in Mysore, India, in November 2014. Waiting politely in the queue will not get you a ticket to this palace, one must advance determinedly using the body to block attempts by the Indians to thrust their money through the little hole ahead of you. Fortunately, I had already learned this technique at the railway counter in Pune. Inside the site is quite pleasant, with a fine parade ground. The palace itself is a monstrosity, built by a British architect doubtless laughing at his client's taste. I could not hear the commentary on the portable player I was given due to the extreme number and volume of Indians trooping briskly round, whose chatter echoed around the marble rooms and corridors; the women in saris, and the men dressed like motorcycle mechanics. There was another museum near the elephants round the back for an additional fee, but I, Melachi, gave it a pass.

National Hotel, Pune, India

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did stay at the National Hotel, in Pune, in October 2014, as I arrived late and it was near the station and in the Lonely Planet guide. The building is a tired "colonial mansion" incongruously behind a row of stores, with an aura of the Bates Motel. Inside, I was shown a "garden" cottage behind the mansion, which I rejected due to the Great Man Size Hole in the chicken wire above the door (the only air) and a mattress in an inappropriate condition (600r). I accepted one on the first floor, which was huge, but had no window at all but a small gap above the door. Doubtless there is some Indian Logick to the provision of huge rooms and bathrooms without the provision of air, air conditioning, or windows. I, myself, do not follow it, though with the fan it was still not that hot compared to Bombay. They provided a towel and soap (which is more than I got in most other places). The bed was very hard and the room, as one might expect without a window, very damp. The paint bulged off the walls as though Pollock had been an early resident. There was a TV but I did not try it. In the morning I ordered a breakfast which was delivered after much shouting and lack of napkins.

Late afternoon I, Melachi, sat on the balcony having spent the day walking around the dismal town which at every turn disintegrates into glutinous dual carriageways of course without pavements and contemplated -- with Mr Kingfisher bought from a shop to the left of the entrance at 110r for 660l -- the driving rain, muddy grounds and sick palm trees to the endless hooting of horns from the road, like the cicadas and birds of some tropical rainforest.

artworks in each room 

chest of drawers placed against door

Gokul Restaurant and Bar, Colaba, Mumbai

Not the healthy option

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did dine twice and drink an additional time at the Gokul restaurant in Colaba, behind the Taj Hotel, which I was told was the largest restaurant in Bombay. There are tables at the front and in the back is a large, crowded and very dark 2-floor air conditioned facility with smoking. The food was good, particularly the tandoori chicken, which was sufficiently moist. Rice is a separate dish. The first time I was here I had Kingfisher Premium mild (220r) the second Kingfisher Strong which is about 8% and has a more bitter taste, but not in a nice way so I would recommend the mild, which I later found was cheaper in Goa (about 110r). Of course there was no much point in asking for anything other than Kingfisher. On the TV they played a strange cricket with a white ball and coloured clothes, though at a ground earlier in the day I had seen many hundreds of people dutifully playing in white. In fact, many hotels also showed this coloured cricket, and it might be worth studying if planning an extended stay. The other diners were mainly groups of younger men, not very friendly though quite peaceable.

Tribal museum, Pune

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did visit the Tribal Museum in Pune, India, in October 2014. It is a pleasant collection of tribal artefacts in half a dozen rooms of a non-descript building not far from a railway bridge where dedicated people recycle things. No other tribal people are present. The items themselves are quite similar to African ones (masks, fishing traps, combs), as indeed found in the museum of the Lao people I recently visited in Kisumu, Kenya. There is no information given on the historical context of the tribes (i.e. what is known about their history, who ruled them, how they managed in the colonial and modern periods) other than a map with population numbers (or even if these went up or down). The entrance fee for foreigners is 200r, which, in the grand scheme of things is not too much, but is rather high for this, especially as there was nowhere to get a cup of coffee, although it was raining.

Seashore Hotel in Colaba, Bombay

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did stay at the Seashore Hotel in Colaba, Bombay, in September 2014. It is a great location, if you have to stay in Bombay, just down from the Taj hotel and the Gate of India, though up rather a lot of stairs in extreme heat. The place was very clean; about 20 rooms with 3-4 shared designer sinks and 3-4 wash cubicles each of which  contained a WC, a shower and a urinal, though the number of those requiring all three facilities per session would be rather low, indeed this is the first time I have seen such.  Of the bathroom cubicles in one the flush did not seem to work, and in another one the curious WC-spraying nozzle was disconnected. All three of the flush control panels were not actually present, which caused me some confusion until I ascertained which rod to press to activate the plumbing mechanism.The residents were foreign backpackers, as the locals are not permitted. Often they would sit on the stairs, smoking. Initially I was placed in a cell-like enclosure, without window or AC, of about 4ft by 10ft, though it had a TV which I did not try as I find it difficult to understand new remote control handsets. Indeed, as Nabokov remarks of the individuality of faucets in the facilities of the motels of the United States, so would I remark on the singularity of the remote controls of the televisions of the hotels of the world. Later in the day, prior to my dinner, I was invited to move to a double room with a window, for a discount to 1000r (about £10) which I accepted, and could lie on my bed with an extraordinary view of the oil tankers in Mumbai harbour, and, since this was a previously unknown to myself 9-day festival of the Hindu people, on the pier a hundred metres opposite during the hours of 8-10pm admire a great party of  women very beautifully dressed, and the men, well, not.  Thus I was blessed with very loud Hindi dance music. I will reserve my review of this for elsewhere, but it is a sort of jazz on a Hindi scale and not at all as godawful as one might expect. Yet with the balcony open and the fan whirling in the night it was still so hot and humid that I was even too exhausted to apply the anti-mosquito lotion, resulting in several bites. There was a wifi which generally worked. The proprietor was very friendly and even offered to help change some money for me at a rate he said was better than the banks as there were no fees or commission! He was kind enough to let me leave my bags there after checkout time.  I ate breakfast each of the three mornings of my visit in one of the little restaurants in the street underneath, and picked up bottled water there at 30r for 2L. There was no safe for the valuables (I do not have any except my passport). Would I stay there again? Well, I, Melachi, would probably choose somewhere with AC and a private bathroom and pay a bit more. But for the price-werth traveller wanting a beautiful view, it was excellent.

The Mighty Pentagram

Strumming serpent

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did attend the gig of Serpent Venom, the Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell, and the mighty Pentagram at the Garage, Islington on 7 September 2014.

Serpent Venom played a simple but not uneventful heavy doom of medium tempo. It would perhaps be suitable for the ipod of a zombie going home to its grave-field. If rather a stupid zombie. I would have picked up their album at the back if it had been £15. But it was £20 so I did not. The Admiral are a blues rock three piece who have taken to wearing coloured T-shirts but might otherwise attract those who think Motorhead too cutting-edge. I liked the cover of their album. 

The Mighty Pentagram

The Mighty Pentagram had an almost full house with a singer so young he had not yet his teeth. He addressed us in a confederate patois rarely heard and generally incomprehensible in London, as I understand few inhabitants of those parts hold passports. The music was a southern rock with a few doom elements. It was good to have seen them once but I, Melachi, do not think I would repeat the experience.