Welcome to Bengaluru

I arrived into Bengaluru International Airport around 12.30 on the 11th (only about 15 hours later than I was supposed to but who is really counting). My first impression of India was that it did not seem at all like I was expecting but I came to realise that the airport is literally in the middle of nowhere. The airport itself was a decent size and extremely deserted as we appeared to be the only flight in sight. Followed signs to the Immigration where I nervously answered 'what are you doing in India" with "tourism" to account for my tourist visa and managed to sort out free wifi while waiting for my suitcase (which did not take 90 minutes this time) in order to message my supervisor here and the other two students from UQ (Debbie and Alex, who had arrived a few days earlier and a day earlier (though I was supposed to beat Alex by 2 hours but hey) so they would know to expect me. Then followed the signs out to the taxi rank while clutching a printed piece of paper with the address, and my supervisors phone number. Handed over said piece of paper to driver, watched him argue with some other drivers for a while and then put my suitcase in the boot... then when I failed to answer whatever question he was asking me called Augustine. During this time I discovered that although the taxi had seatbelts in the back seat, they had nothing to plug them into thus proving to be useless (and had flashbacks to "No no, no seatbelt, I good driver") and that there appeared to be no rule against driving while making phone calls (although driving while making phone calls and driving in the middle of the lanes and extremely slowly will irritate all the other drivers). Apparently Augustine answered his questions and so we set off.
I had the distinct impression that India was a place of dichotomies - it seemed so desolate yet also lush; and there were attempts at luxury paired with poverty. I then stopped thinking about the contrasts of what I was seeing and began thinking I was never going to make it to the guest house alive.
The only road rule I have figured out that exists here is you shouldn't drink and drive (spotted on a traffic sign from a tuk tuk). I do not understand why they bothered to paint lines on the road when if say there are 2 lanes there are probably 2 cars, a truck, 5 tuk tuks and 8 scooters, 17 pedestrians and possibly a dog or a cow all jostling for prime position. Honking is mandatory! However it does not seem to be a "get out of my road" type honk, but rather a "hey look! I'm here and I'm probably going to try and weave through traffic to get ahead of you now" honk. Honking is also a constant sound while being anywhere near a road. The scariest part of the drive was when the taxi driver veered off the highway onto a road running alongside it, then went up a bit of a hill and then had to do a right turn down another street. I was so thankful when I saw a shop sign saying Cooke Town because then at least we were in the right suburb and I could surely get out onto solid ground again.
Eventually the taxi stopped and I was told that the address was somewhere nearby but he didn't know where. So I attempted to get out of the car and he yelled at me and then drove further up the road and called Augustine again. Then he put me out of the taxi and I discovered that the first time I tried to get out we were in front of the neighbouring house. So walked back down the road with my suitcase to a waving Alex and Debbie. Got a tour of the house, officially met Augustine, figured out its a guest house with an office for Community Aid Alliance (not Community Aid Alliance with some guest rooms), and basically got taken straight out for my first Indian meal.
There is a restaurant around the corner from the guest house where we have a tab. I am going to need a lot of practice eating with my hands, especially eating rice with fingers... but I have faith that by the time I get back to Australia I will successfully be able to horrify my mother by eating with my hands (sorry Mum).
After the late lunch Alex and Debbie showed me the local supermarket where we bought umbrellas and a few other odd pieces I had not brought with me. That place may not stock a huge range of food but it does have ALL the other things except a kitchen sink.
The remainder of my final day I spent back at the guest house while the others went out to explore Commercial Street to do some shopping. I also explored the roof of the guest house which is accessed by a ladder which was fine to go up but considering my issue with heights at times I was not so confident going back down. I did briefly consider just staying up there but I made it down.
Once again there are no photos with this post because I think I posted on Instagram/Facebook.