Kochi

The belly aches passed and, after another epic 10 hour journey on the bus*, the metaphorical clouds parted and suddenly travelling around India did not seem like so much suffering. This is mainly because Fort Kochi is a little bustling paradise that is a million miles away from the mess of Mysore.

Smart little cafes sit around, Chinese fishing nets hang out into the bay in a picturesque sort of way, the seafood is great (although eating a crab without the use of shell crackers was a painstaking challenge), and the whole air of the place is very laid back.
On top of that I managed to get a four poster bed and a balcony for £6 a night which made me pretty happy. The guy who runs the homestay has been a champ too, letting me know what is going on around town.
The wealth of the area compared to the rest of India is quite staggering, and the associated levels of cleanliness and orderliness. You could almost believe you were in some town on the Portuguese coast.

*Quickly finding out that buses are the best way to see India. You get into the heart of life much more than trains do, and the routes are spectacular. The overtaking practices however are, well, questionable.