I Cantt. help it I say.

My earliest memories of Bangalore are of arriving at the Bangalore Cantonment station at 4 in the morning, and spotting my grandparents waiting for us in the morning mist. They’d scoop my brother and me up in their arms and whisk us off home in a pink ambassador. Their interesting taste in car colours, and the years they spent in weight training in order to scoop fat grandsons off station floors made them strange, but strong people.

I must grudgingly admit to being a sucker for colonial hangovers. I love the little self-contained towns of the cantonment, I love its chilled out people, its charming old worldliness and its beautiful old churches. I love the Catholic Club, complete with old biddies sailing somberly across the dance floor. And I love its street names, that get curiouser and curiouser as one goes easter and easter. Moore road, Ware road, O’Shaugnessey road, Broadway street, Seppings road, Primrose road. Uff, what loverliness and mystery I say! A friend once called me a cantonment wannabe. She’s right, but she’s a Malleshwaram and morkozhambu wannabe herself, so there.

The street names of the cantonment can only be matched in coolness by the names of the cantonment towns. Frazer Town, a case in point, is about the busiest part of the cantonment. Here is where I spend most of my time lurking around friends’ homes waiting for Christmas to happen, so I can sing carols for my supper (or kalkals, cake and home made wine as the case may be). And if that doesnt work, there's always Thom’s at the end of Promenade road, a nice bakery close to the beautiful St John’s church. Thom's is the ideal spot to check out crotchety old ladies in polka dotted dresses accompanied by equally ancient handmaidens called Anthonyamma. But if thats not your thing to do, you could walk down to Sherlock Holmes, a nice 80s pub on Cole’s road. Or check out Taipan, an 80s restaurant that has a hoary tradition of serving near-chinese food in near-darkness, lest you catch sight of what lurks beneath the sofas.

Benson town is a little more ghettoed, though it still has some very pretty bungalows such as the beautiful cottage that belongs to my mudslinging morkozhambu loving friend. Dewar’s Inn, a crazy crumbling joint near the cantt station, is the oldest pub in Bangalore. It has large rattan chairs and grumpy waiters who serve you drinks from out of a godrej almirah. Love it, love it.

Jayamahal, next to Benson Town, is named after the Jayamahal Palace. Once the summer residence of the peshwa of god knows where, it is now a deliciously run down hotel that looks straight from out of a horror movie. The old courtyard used to be open to the sky until the management ran out of silver bullets on full moon nights. It now has a noisy aluminium roof that I’m hoping will blow away this monsoon, so I can howl at the moon from atop my table in peace again. Elements, a safer but essentially avoidable lounge bar on Nandidurg road closeby, seems to draw a fair share of the yuppie crowd. But its not the average Jayamahal Palace goer's cup of blood for sure.

Cooke Town is arguably the prettiest part of the Cantonment, with the lovely Richard’s park, old cottages lining the streets, cute little squares with Goan names, and the often bypassed Bangalore East Railway Station.

Other places in the cantonment that the intrepid (and terribly jobless) traveler might want to check out, are the posh but dusty Langford Town, the once charming Richmond Town, the ungraceful Grace town, the oddly named Cox town, and the Tam stronghold of Austin town where the infant Jesus lives in bathroom tiled splendor.

Honestly though, Id give Baby JC a skip any day, to walk around the cantonment’s two most famous streets: South Parade (MG Road) and Brigade Road. They are the pride, joy and dearest treasure of every Bangalorean. To mud(Mg road Up & Down) and to bud (Brigade road Up & Down) are the two most productive pastimes in Bangalore. Those that haven't yet understood the benefits of these supremely pleasurable activities must come see me immediately.