Yeah, it's called "MYSORE"

Tim and I just got back from a three-day weekend in Mysore, a city that's quite a bit nicer than it's name would suggest. We stayed at the Windflower Spa and Resort, saw some temples, the Mysore Palace, some monkeys, etc. I posted a photo album to my facebook, but if you aren't on there (or are, but are not my friend), you should be able to see the entire album here.

My favorite part of the trip was when we met a guy with grey teeth who made us go to his house to see his "mother" hand-rolling incense. Even though we knew that this is exactly what tourists should NOT do, we did it anyway, and followed the guy through filthy streets, past a nauseating dried-fish market, to his door-less alley-way home. A lady was there, sitting on the floor by the entry way, spreading an odorless paste made from charcoal onto bamboo sticks, then rolling them on a stone. She rolls 6,000 sticks of incense a day, letting them dry in the sun before dipping them in the perfumed oils that give them all distinct aromas. Thinking we would just buy some of her incense and get the hell of of there, I was ready to leave when we were beckoned further into the house by an older gentleman. The living room was filled with photos and trophies - the guy had been a champion bodybuilder in his younger days. He took one look at Tim and asked if he played Rugby (he does). Apparently Tim has the tell-tale Rugby neck that I never knew existed. The older guy then proceeded to show us his oil collection, explaining that he runs a home business. He rubbed several different oils on both of us, explaining the properties and purposes of each. I began to get more and more freaked out, especially when the man with the grey teeth brought us some chai. My first thought was that the water in the tea could be suspect, and my second thought, as I took a sip, was that we were being roofied so that they could steal our wallets and/or kill us. Tim drank all of his tea, but I stopped at the one sip, thinking that one of us should have their wits about them, in case the bodybuilder needed to be fought off. Luckily, there were no drugs in the tea, and all we had to do to get out of there was to buy some incense and a couple of vials of oil. We didnt really want or need either of these things, but the experience was well worth it.
Speaking of being sold things we didn't want, the street hawkers of Mysore are far more obnoxious and aggressive than the people here in Bangalore. We were harassed to no end, and even had to leave the palace grounds early just to escape the never-ending barrage of sales-pitches. I tried to capture some of this on tape as several men followed us to our waiting car, but the video does not even begin to do it justice..