Lalbagh
Begun by Hyder Ali as a private garden and finished by his son, with a glasshouse at the centre built in the pattern of the Crystal Palace. At the southern end, a bare grey outcrop older than almost anything on earth.
The collection
Karnataka · A garden that took up engineering
Breakfast is a queue on the pavement: steel plates, a dosa off the griddle a metre away, no table and nobody in any hurry to find you one. At three thousand feet the heat never properly arrives, so the day is lived out of doors until the sky closes at four, empties itself in twenty minutes, and the streets come back smelling of wet dust and jasmine.
Bengaluru sits high enough that the heat never quite finds it — a plateau city of rain trees and old cantonment bungalows that spent a century being India's most agreeable place to retire and then, almost by accident, became the place it goes to work. The two versions are still visible from the same window: a canopy of jacaranda over a street where nothing is older than the last funding round. It keeps its pleasures indoors and behind gates — a courtyard, a filter-coffee counter, a bar that has been quietly good for thirty years.
Begun by Hyder Ali as a private garden and finished by his son, with a glasshouse at the centre built in the pattern of the Crystal Palace. At the southern end, a bare grey outcrop older than almost anything on earth.
Three hundred acres held in the middle of the city, the red Gothic courts standing along one edge and the library along another. On Sundays the roads through it close and the whole of it goes back to walkers.
Two storeys of teak — pillars, cusped arches, painted ceilings — standing small and dark and cool in the middle of the old market district. He called it the envy of heaven, and the inscription is still there.
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MG Road
A rain tree older than the hotel, and a balcony on every room that looks at it.
Turrets and battlements dropped into the middle of a plateau city by a family that had seen prints of Windsor. Inside it is portraits, furniture and the household's own photographs, which is the part worth the ticket.
A single Nandi cut from one boulder, oiled black by four centuries of hands, filling a small temple that was built around him afterwards. In late autumn the groundnut fair takes over the streets outside.
An hour north, a granite hill with the remains of a summer fort on top and a sheer drop off the western face. Arrive before six and the plain below is under cloud, with the far ridges coming out of it.

Race Course Road
A 10-room inn from 1887, grown into 117 rooms and suites across 20 acres of garden in the middle of Bengaluru.
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