A Touch of the Old Days

From The first night that I confronted a foot-long lizard on the ceiling of my shower room, to cows, goats and roosters roaming the streets,  I’ve known that this is a different place from any other that I've lived in.

After a few months of living here (and even now a year later) I still double-take women wearing Sari’s on the back of motorbikes, some in their sixties, cows meandering about the streets, and a chaotic energy that I began to be drawn too by my third month.  Anyway, it was sometime in October 2012 that was the day to get out of the neighborhood and explore.   

A few days before I was taking with my friend Uzma. She was headed to Indiranagar, and I asked where that was. “Right next to Koramangala” she said. I didn't know that neighborhood either. So I decided to start learning the neighborhoods.

And that was the day because I was jonesing for a western-styled breakfast.

It’s those little things you take for granted when traveling abroad.  In the city (NYC) I’d eat omelettes at least every other day; I haven’t had one since arriving here in July 2012.  

I went to an online forum with expats in India called IndiaMike, and when I searched for western-styled breakfast a thread popped right up with a listing of four places.  

Next I punched the address into my Google Maps, then hit the Navigator button (what a great tool).

 The little voice in my ear -- with my satellite tracking enabled -- directed me right to the front door.

If you don't rush right in, you can almost envision Kosheys in its heyday. There are welcoming palm trees lining the path to the big wooden doorway. Inside it's not pretty. It’s old and worn, yet reflects an era gone by.

I ordered a bacon-cheese omelette, toast (which was like white bread but thick like a french toast), fresh-squeezed orange juice, a liter of bottled water, and a coffee.  

The food was good; the omelette just like home, the juice fresh and the coffee terrific.  The cost? The omelette was US$2.60, the toast .25 cents, the juice US$1.10, and the coffee .50 cents.

On the ride to and from there, the neighborhoods changed drastically; some neighborhoods were dirty, dusty and obviously low-income, while other areas were more upscale.  Nevertheless, those cows were everywhere.  And at times, for reasons I can't quite put my finger on, I felt like I was traveling through something akin to an old wild west border town.

Recently I setup an office on St John Road near Commercial Street, and Kosheys -- being not more than minutes away -- has become my morning breakfast stop. And so it goes ...