Namaste

After one week in the newsroom of the Deccan Herald, the second-largest English language newspaper in India, I feel well placed to make some important observations.

• Most news is kind enough to occur within walking distance of the newsroom, but if transport is required, leave 30 minutes earlier than normal. This 'tuk-tuk allowance' is for unforeseen circumstances, such as being taken to the driver's two shops before the desired destination.

• Some newsmakers are more interested than others in appearing in the newspaper, particularly those who provide a phone number with an assurance of being available 24/7.

• If news happens between 5-5.15pm it will in all likelihood remain uncovered due to a mass tea break, raising philosophical questions about whether it was ever really news at all.

For as much as the newsroom at the Deccan Herald has in common with similar spaces in New Zealand, there are some areas in which it stands alone.

Before I first stepped foot in the old building located in the heart of Bangalore on Mahatma Gandhi Road, I considered myself something of an Indian veteran. I had, after all, already spent three whole weeks in the country covering the New Zealand cricket team.

Plus, the last couple of days before I began my internship I was free from cricket commitments and able to explore a little bit of Bangalore. I was practically a local by the first afternoon of work.

That afternoon was spent meet-and-greeting, the highlight of which was being regaled by the experiences of the associate editor when on assignment in Afghanistan shortly after the US invasion.

To my surprise, that late start was the rule rather than exception which, for a night owl like myself, was welcomed with open arms. Unfortunately, though, it did mean walking to work along MG Road at the height of the afternoon heat, something cruelly complemented by wearing jeans, shoes and socks for the first time all tour.

But I had to become accustomed to being over-dressed in the 30-degree sun, as finding news required more fitness than it did a phone. When rumours swirled about an impending bus strike, instead of calling an official for comment it was just as easy to wander to the local terminal and find one standing outside.

That method doubled as an ideal way to soak up the sights, sounds and smells of Bangalore, India's most progressive city. After a week spent in Hyderabad, footpaths made a welcome return to my life in Bangalore, though the number of men urinating on the side of the road sadly declined.

Bangalore occasionally seemed a different country to Hyderabad. The multi-culturalism born out of the IT surge is no more evident than in the malls, where a multitude of Western and Oriental food options are enjoyed by locals and ex-pats alike.

The traffic may be worse, and the vehicles' horns may be just as busy, but walking around in Bangalore lacked an element of the controlled chaos that was abundant of the streets of Hyderabad.

Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, I'm not sure.