E phatlaladitšwe: 22.01.2017
Don Curry is perplexed. He has already enjoyed some outstanding and downright luxurious hotels on his journey, but the accommodation for the next two nights exceeded everything by far. 'Is this already paradise?' a fellow traveler asked him. 'Definitely a stage not far from it,' Don Curry had to admit without any pathos.
The day had already started paradisiacally, at least if you like sumptuous breakfast buffets and/or shops for silk fabrics. Both formed the start of the day one after the other. But the paradise continued: finally, the palace of the Maharajas of Mysore, which boasts incredible splendor both inside and out, was now on the agenda.
Despite a strict ban on photography, which was punished by loud whistles from the security personnel if ignored, Don Curry's smartphone was able to secretly capture some insights - he was spared a scolding.
Unfortunately, the program did not allow for more time in Mysore. Although the next hotel was only 50 km away, there were supposed to be poor roads leading there. Soon, the tour bus crawled through smaller and smaller villages, passing banana, chili, and ginger plantations, overtaking many ox carts. Some narrow curves were clearly not designed for tour buses; they could only go around the corner at a snail's pace, and the co-driver had to get out and take measurements.
After almost three hours, the 50 km were finally covered and the Orange County Resort was reached. The numerous hotel employees celebrated the welcome ceremony in a very elaborate manner: each guest received a red mark on their forehead, a hot towel, and a cold drink; then it was straight to the lunch buffet, which left no wishes unfulfilled; even roast pork was available here.
After this wonderful start, it was time to distribute the rooms, or rather bungalows; because instead of a simple hotel room, Don Curry and the group were each given a large hut in the style of the local Kurumba tribe - but with every conceivable comfort: living room, bedroom, and bathroom are grouped around a courtyard, which is adorned either with a small private swimming pool or a whirlpool; a veranda with two lounge chairs and occasionally a hammock completes the furnishings. Every piece of furniture, lamp, decorative element, and accessory is consistently designed in the local ethnic style - a single work of art, kept alive by a huge number of servants. In the morning, the huts are cleaned by 4 room boys, in the afternoon everything is prepared for the evening: from pulling the curtains to making the bed. Everything radiates a successful combination of perfection and unobtrusiveness, a place where you simply have to feel comfortable. Almost like paradise.
After a performance of tribal dances by the campfire and an opulent dinner buffet, Don Curry blissfully sank into his soft bed. This sleep could only be heavenly...