Indore, India – A Messy, Sticky‑Fingers Travel Journal

indore’s humid afternoon wrapped around me like a cheap cotton shirt, the air clinging like sweat after a dance rehearsal. i just landed on flight 1273066, the ticket says 'Delhi‑Indore' but the airport felt more like a monsoon‑scented garage sale, and the hostel gave me the code 1356065731 to unlock a bunk that smelled faintly of incense and leftover biryani. the weather app on my phone showed a steady 25.1°C with a feels‑like of 24.5°C, not a big swing but the humidity sticks like a cheap paintbrush. i hope you dig that kind of thing, otherwise the city’s baking you anyway.
someone told me that the new rooftop bar on mahatma gandhi road is actually a ghost of a 1970s disco, and they warned me about the broken neon sign that flickers whenever a bus honks. i heard that the bartender mixes the gin with a splash of rose water, supposedly a nod to the old zamindar court. i haven’t tried it yet, but my street‑art buddies swear the view over the river is worth the trip, especially at sunset when the sky turns a weird, almost‑greenish orange.
if you get bored, surat and pune are just a short drive away, and the occasional day‑trip to bhojpur feels like stepping into a time‑capsule of pottery workshops. i’ve even heard locals joke that the next city over is basically 'another indie film set', which makes sense if you love chaotic storytelling.
*indore itself is a paradox: it’s chaotic but oddly organized, the traffic is a river of honking, and the street food stalls shout their menus louder than a karaoke night at the nearby lounge. the train station is a chaotic maze of people shuffling between the 1907‑style arches and the neon‑lit platforms, each train arrival sounding like a beat drop at a concert. street art here feels like a low‑budget mural project, with spray cans left on the pavement, but the colors pop against the crumbling walls. food stalls sell everything from pani puri to aloo tikki, the sizzle of the oil is a constant reminder that the city never sleeps.
the hostel gave me a map that points to a hidden tea garden (yes, a tea garden in the middle of a city, it’s weird) that locals claim has the freshest masala chai. i haven’t found it yet, but a drunk local hinted that it’s behind a crumbling mosque and past a guy playing tabla on a broken speaker. if you want a more detailed look, check out the Indore Community Board where locals swap tales about the hidden tea garden.
pro tip: wear shoes that can handle sticky mud; the rain season is unpredictable, and you’ll thank me when you step over puddles that smell like fried onions and diesel. pro tip: bring a small umbrella, not the huge one that looks like a circus prop, because the locals treat umbrellas like fashion statements and will stare at you if yours is too 'touristy'. also, Yelp review for 'raj mahal' restaurant says the biryani is 'spicier than a street‑artist’s palette', but the TripAdvisor crowd warns about the line that stretches like a drum roll at a concert.
the instagram post of a 'hidden rooftop' at 'bharatpur lake' got over 15k likes, but the google maps entry for that spot says it’s closed for 'maintenance' until 2027. i guess the city’s not done with its renovations yet, and that’s why you hear rumors that the city is 'ghost‑hunting' its own past. for a live feed of the bar’s neon sign, see the Instagram page.

i’m trying to keep the blog vibe human, not a polished travel guide, so here’s some random stuff i jotted down:
- 1273066 was the flight number that had a delay of 20 minutes because the pilot thought it was a runway for a night‑time skate contest.
- 1356065731 is the hostel code that, when typed wrong, unlocks a door to a tiny pantry where the fridge has only one thing: a half‑eaten samosa.
- the humidity is low enough to keep my camera lens from fogging, but the temperature swings are enough to make my phone think i’m in a sauna.
if you need directions, check out the map embed below:

and here are some visuals that won’t leave your scroll empty:

i’m finishing this post on a cracked cafe table, the wi‑fi is slow, my phone battery is at 12%, and a stray cat has claimed the space next to me. the outdoor temperature is 25.1°C, the feels‑like is 24.5°C, the pressure is 1013 hPa, humidity 31%, and the ground level pressure is 953 hPa. if you’re reading this at home, i hope you’re enjoying something cooler.
i’ve written this in the hope that the next traveler won’t follow the same template twice - because i’m a drunk dancer* and i’d rather stumble into something fresh. happy trails (or whatever you call your next messy day).

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