Someone had stolen Rocinante's horn in the night in Kottakota, and I noticed the hanging wires right away in the morning. With more and more direction -asking, we finally came to a tiny shop that had a horn, not as good as the old one, but necessary to travel Indian roads. Installed and ready, we set off, still wondering why someone would steal such a thing. Perhaps it is now a souvenir on someone's wall of the day the aliens landed, more likely it was sold for less than it's worth for some ghutka. Either way the cheeky monkeys are sometimes little thieves. No matter, it got sorted, and we had an easy drive to go.

Hyderabad is not really a tourist place . The population is some 50% muslim, and it is home to a sort of mini-mecca to which non-muslims are not allowed to enter. There are, however, sights to be seen.
A huge Buddha statue stands in the middle of Hyderabad lake, a fort called Golkonda looks over the whole city from the distance, and there are bazaars and shops everywhere. On the way into the city, trying to find our area selected for it's lodges, the mini-monsoon started. I pulled into a petrol station behind a truck parked in the back, covered the gear as Linda went inside the small station office to keep relatively dry during the flash shower. It rained hard for about twenty minutes or so, then, after purchasing a can of motor oil, we started through the now wet streets of Hyderabad, like two drowned rats seeking the cheese at the end of the maze.
Checking the rates of some of the better-looking lodges, we decided to try one across the street from the railway station. Parking in the courtyard Linda went in to the first one, though it looked a little posh, and that one was a bit too high. There were four others in the immediate area, all with the name "royal" in the titles, and apparently they were less than the names implied, they claimed that they only rented to Indians, and that we could not get a room there. So, turning the key of the ever-trusty Rocinante, we decided to explore further down the road.
Turning the key did not bring the desired result. Smoke began to wisp it's way up from under the ignition switch, which I shut off immediately, nearly burning my fingers separationg the wires from each other under the console to stop the short. Decisions sometimes are made for you, the burning of Rocinante's ignition wires decided the case, and after a little haggling, we did get a room in the quite clean and luxurious hotel for 600, and I removed the switch. Fortunately I had looked up the name of an Enfield repair shop in Hyderabad when on the internet in Bangalore, and sure enough, it was just around the corner. .
A quick walk and a couple of questions later, we came to the shop. They did not have the part, but directed us to a shop that did. Citizens Automotive in King Koti was hard for our determined rickshaw driver to find, but he did, and they did have the part! another wonder. I took the opportunity to get more spare parts, points, a spare throttle cable, gear oil, as well as the new switch. Dinner, and back to the hotel. We had both decided to stay in Hyderabad for an extra day or two to take in the sights, and the plan was in the morning for me to do some work on Rocinante as Linda scouted out a cheaper room. . .