Bengaluru

Bengaluru sits on the Deccan plateau at about 900m, a long way from either coast. The Arabian Sea at Mangaluru and the Bay of Bengal near Chennai are both a full day's travel or an overnight trip, so they make a separate journey rather than a beach outing. In the city itself, swimming means a hotel pool or a sports club, and the lakes are not used for bathing. Anyone who wants sand and warm sea should plan a separate stretch on the Karnataka coast, Goa or Kerala.

Eating in Bengaluru starts early. The city's great institution is the darshini, a stand-up eatery serving idli, vada and crisp masala dosa with strong filter coffee in steel tumblers, and the older vegetarian restaurants of Basavanagudi and Malleswaram have drawn morning queues for generations. Karnataka cooking runs from ragi mudde and bisi bele bath to the Mangalorean seafood and Kodava pork curries brought in from the coast and hills, while the military hotels serve meaty biryanis from dawn.

In the evening the street food lanes around VV Puram and, during Ramadan, Frazer Town take over, and the bars of Indiranagar and Koramangala pour some of the country's best brewpub beer. Every Indian regional cuisine is represented, which suits curious eaters more than those after a polished fine-dining scene.

Bengaluru is a modern city with a modest set of sights rather than a historic centre to wander. The best are spread out: the wooden summer palace of Tipu Sultan and the remains of the old fort near the market district, the Tudor-style Bangalore Palace, the granite bulk of the Vidhana Soudha facing the High Court across Cubbon Park, and the Bull Temple and its giant monolithic Nandi in Basavanagudi. Lalbagh's Victorian glasshouse and the colonial buildings around Cubbon Park add some character.

The museums are respectable rather than essential, with the National Gallery of Modern Art in an old mansion and the Government Museum the most worthwhile. Two or three days covers it; the region's great heritage lies outside the city.

Bengaluru has long called itself India's pub city, and the claim holds for drinking. Large brewpubs with rooftop terraces, cocktail bars and student pubs fill Indiranagar's 100 Feet Road, Koramangala and the blocks around Church Street and Brigade Road. The crowd is young, professional and easygoing, and the weekend starts on Friday straight after work.

What it lacks is lateness. Strict licensing has always kept closing times early by big-city standards, there are few clubs of any reputation, and once the bars empty the streets go quiet quickly, with little to move on to. Evenings start early to make up for it. The city suits travellers who like a long night over local craft beer more than those who want to dance until dawn.

Within the city, green space comes from the old gardens: Cubbon Park's shaded avenues in the centre and Lalbagh's botanical lawns and rock outcrop to the south, both best early in the morning. The mild plateau climate makes walking pleasant for much of the year.

Beyond the sprawl, the land breaks into granite hills. Nandi Hills, about two hours north, is the classic sunrise drive, while Savandurga and the boulders of Ramanagara draw hikers and rock climbers. Bannerghatta National Park on the southern edge offers a safari through scrub forest. The richer landscapes of Coorg, the Western Ghats and the tiger reserves are a long drive away, and leaving the city in heavy traffic eats into any day out.

The obvious day out is to the south-west. Mysuru, with its illuminated palace, Chamundi Hill and old markets, is about two hours by express train, and the island fortress town of Srirangapatna, Tipu Sultan's capital, lies just before it; the star-shaped Hoysala temple at Somanathapura can be added by car. To the north, the Vijayanagara-era temple at Lepakshi with its painted ceilings and huge stone Nandi makes a quieter excursion of about two hours.

Beyond that the list thins. The region's finest heritage, Hampi and the Hoysala temples of Belur and Halebidu, needs an overnight stay, and road traffic out of the city can stretch any trip.

Indian culture makes children welcome everywhere, and Bengaluru has more for them than most Indian cities. Bannerghatta Biological Park combines a zoo, a butterfly park and a lion and tiger safari; a large amusement and water park sits off the Mysuru road; and the Visvesvaraya Industrial and Technological Museum and the planetarium near Cubbon Park suit curious older children. Cubbon Park and Lalbagh give open space and room to run.

The difficulty is logistics. Sights are far apart, traffic jams can turn short distances into long car rides, and broken pavements make pushchairs hard work. The mild climate is a real help compared with the rest of India.

Bengaluru is a hard city to move through. It sprawls without a single walkable centre, pavements are often broken or blocked, and its traffic jams are famous across India, so a journey of a few kilometres can take an hour at peak times. The Namma Metro is clean and useful along its lines, linking MG Road, the old market district and some of the southern and eastern neighbourhoods, but many places still need a last stretch by road.

Most visitors get around by auto-rickshaw and app-booked taxis, which are cheap and plentiful. Plan days by area, travel outside rush hours, and do not expect to walk between sights.

Shopping here mixes old bazaars with large malls. Mysore silk saris, sandalwood and rosewood carvings and the lacquered wooden toys of nearby Channapatna are the regional crafts to look for, sold reliably in the state-run emporia and in the dense wholesale lanes of Chickpet, where silk and textile shops crowd every street. KR Market's flower halls are worth seeing even with nothing to buy.

Commercial Street and Brigade Road cover clothes, bangles and everyday fashion, and the malls carry international brands, with a small luxury mall off Vittal Mallya Road. Indian designer labels appear in Indiranagar's boutiques, but there is no deep fashion or luxury district.

For a visitor Bengaluru is cheap by any international measure. A darshini breakfast, a full vegetarian meal or an auto-rickshaw ride costs very little, metro fares are low and the main sights charge modest entry. Budget and mid-range rooms are easy to find.

It is, though, one of India's more expensive cities. Hotels are geared to business travel and weekday rates in the better ones are not low, while alcohol is heavily taxed, so evenings in the brewpubs add up faster than meals do. Travellers who eat locally and use autos will find their money goes a long way.

Bengaluru's performing arts are lively at a local level rather than famous. Carnatic classical music is the deepest tradition, heard at sabhas in the old southern neighbourhoods and at the violin-shaped Chowdiah Memorial Hall, with concerts clustering around the Ramanavami season in spring. Ranga Shankara in JP Nagar anchors a committed theatre scene staging plays in Kannada, English and Hindi most evenings, and Bharatanatyam and other classical dance recitals appear regularly.

The city also has a long reputation as India's rock and indie music town, with gigs in bars and small venues most weekends. There is no opera or major orchestra, and touring international acts are occasional.

Bengaluru has no bathing tradition, but it is a good place for Ayurveda and yoga. Ayurvedic clinics offering oil massage and longer treatment programmes are spread across the city, yoga schools are easy to drop into, and several residential wellness retreats on the rural outskirts draw visitors for stays of a week or more.

The city itself is not restful. Traffic, construction noise and long commutes set the pace, and the calm moments come from the old garden suburbs of Malleswaram and Basavanagudi and early mornings in Cubbon Park and Lalbagh. Those who want real rest usually book out of town.