Where i can find nepali girls in bangalore?

Question

i mean which place in Bangalore

Answer 1

hadn't had a real sleep for about three days, because I'd spent those nights crazy overnight buses tearing through the innards of India, bouncing over the shoddy roads, breaking my sleep with a thump every time I dozed off.

We three Canadians had arrived in Bangalore at about 6am. From the bus we walked a few blocks with our lock-protected backpacks and fended off the dozens of peddlers and beggars who approached us. It's amazing how persistent some of them are. We found a hotel room by 7am. For fun, I checked the TV: Fresh Prince was on.

We spent the day touring around Bangalore, visiting temples and parks and fending off Indians trying to rip off the whitey tourists. But the night was upon us, and we were determined to find a good time. It was a Wednesday night, but Bangalore is a huge city and we were sure there must be something decent.

Bangalore has one trendy street, with NYC 5th-Avenue style fashion stores and western fast food restaurants. (Of course the McDonald's doesn't have beef burgers because cows in India are sacred.) There are a couple small side streets that jut out from this street which have tiny, dimly-lit eclectic pubs. We stopped by a couple of these and had a couple pints. A little too slow for our taste, however. It was time to move on.

Wandering down one street, an Indian dude who looked and acted like a club promoter came up to us, half-rushing. He emphatically tried convincing us to go into his club, which he pointed to. It looked fancy, even by western standards. Older Indian men in suits seemed to be the only people going in, however. I guessed what it was, but my curiousity was picqued nonetheless. So we went to the door and paid the exorbitant-by-Indian-standards cover of about $2 US.

We were greeted by a very interesting sight as we walked into the main room of the club. Unsurprisingly, there was a slightly-raised stage in the center, and there were a bunch of older suits sitting around staring at the ladies on the stage. But... the ladies were fully covered by saris, which is sort of a blanket-like dress made with colorful materials. And it wasn't just one or three ladies, it was twenty! They didn't need much space each... because their dancing was so dreadfully tame that it is better described as mild toe-tapping.

All this was doubly amazing because the patrons were utterly entranced by this "show." Wild guys! Ha.

We were escorted by a suited employee to a table facing the stage. We ordered the most expensive beer for about $2 each.

The man in the table next to us, who was "in the zone" of staring at these girls was also spending money for what I guess is the Indian version of lap dances. He gestured to get one of the dancers' attention, and she relocated herself on the stage to dance seductively (toe-tapping style) in front of him. She looked at him in, trying to smile sexily, but it was impossible not to notice the petrified look in her eyes. When the song was ending he put some money on his table and she stepped off the stage, took the money and stuffed it under some of her abundant clothing, smiled, and went back onto the stage in front of him. He'd given her about $3. Big player!

We were the only non-Indians in the joint. The dancers would keep relocating themselves to be in front of us, their curiosity obviously aroused. We'd smile at them and they'd give their petrified smiles back. We found it more amusing to see the "churn" of dancers; so, every song or so we'd get a few new faces in front of us.

Some suits were going to what appeared to be a back room, with girls. I wondered what was going on there. A little more sensuality? An orgy? Well, I should have known better, this being India and not Vegas. I peeked, and almost peed my pants in laughter. It was yet another room and stage in an almost identical setup!

We finished our beer and left. Ah, the wild strip clubs of India! Enough of that, we wanted to find a proper club, and dance and party and meet girls who wouldn't stare at me in fright for being western.

We wandered around the area a bit, talking to as many hip-looking people (Indians and westerns alike) trying to determine the place to be. After a while, it became apparent that the place to be on Wednesdays was "The Club." It was settled: we were going to The Club.

So, we flagged down a tuk tuk driver. (A tuk tuk is a tiny three-wheeled open-air vehicle. Dangerous and slightly smelly, but fun to ride and fast.) We negotiated a rate of $5 US to get there, about $5 US for him to wait for us while we were at the club, and $5 US back. This was a lot of money for India, but people had told us The Club was far away. They were right: after darting among cars and weaving through freeways and ignoring lanes, in the end the ride took 45 minutes! So, $5 for a 45-minute ride was a fair price, I'd say:) . And now, the driver was going to wait for us outside the club until we were done, even if it was hours later!

We arrived at The Club at about 11pm. We were only the second group there! But it stayed open until 5am; I guess we were early. Alcohol-enhanced red bull was my first drink, of course, to counteract frazzling bus rides and tuk tuk rides. We met the first group, a couple girls from Nepal, which is just north of India. They were students; it turns out that Bangalore is a big university town and therefore probably has the best nightlife in all of India. Cool! Too bad we could only stay one night -- Bangalore even has an Amnesia.

We decided to explore The Club, and we were in for a treat. The main bar overlooks the dance floor, which is small compared to the size of the place, probably only holding 200 people or so. The light system was decent; the place in general felt quite upscale. The DJ was spinning electronic lounge music. Later the DJ would be spinning everything from Goa trance to hip hop, a real mix. There was a maze of stairways and hallways, giving patrons a variety of ways to enter and leave the dance floor and main bar. Wandering, we found ourselves in a giant outdoor area. The night air was warm and inviting. To the right was a half-basketball court. To the left was an outdoor bar and a couple patio-like areas, with wooden tables and chairs. In the center was a full size swimming pool, the water shimmering from nightclub-esque lighting. There was seating around the sides of the pool. At the back end of the pool was a mini waterfall. There were many dimly-lit nooks and crannies, perfect for a little late night smooching.

We hung out by the pool and enjoyed our drinks, hanging out with the Nepalese girls and watching the crowd slowly filter in. A couple of their female friends joined us.

By 1am the place was in full swing. The dance floor was packed, filled with a real mix of Indians and international people. I met a variety, including go go dancers from LA and backpackers from Australia. The stairs leading from the main bar to the dance floor were full of people too, encouraged to sit and mingle by randomly placed benches along the way.

As the night progressed the drunkenness (happiness) of the crowd inevitably grew, and the place became progressively more wild. Even here in India, grinding and more were the order of the day. At one point one of my friends was wondering why his hands were all purple. I asked him "what color were her pants?" He grinned. "Purple." Ha!

The nooks and crannies also became more populated. Ha!

It was nice to take breaks from the dancing to hang out by the pool. I even took a basketball break. Interestingly, there were usually a few people using the court. It was a surprisingly good place to meet people and hang out.

The place started slowing down at 4:30am or so, and at 5am, employees were actively "encouraging" patrons to leave.

One of my friends had been hanging out with a local girl, and she'd told us she'd get us home more cheaply. She apparently had friends who'd give us a ride. Since we hadn't paid the last $10 yet, we thought we'd see what she could do for us. I had an uneasy feeling about it all, however. And who cares about $10 anyway! To her, it was "the principle of it all." Well.

We left the club, and mingled among the clubbers in the parking lot outside. Our tuk tuk driver greeted us, asking if we were ready.

The local girl essentially said "thanks but no thanks" and he was rightly pissed at us. He demanded that he drive us. Then we offered to give him the $5 for waiting. He said no, he wanted $10 and he'd drive us. The local girl kept trying to pull us away from the driver, but the driver would have none of this. Any time we turned to walk away, the driver would block us and look like he was about to fight. Well, I wasn't about to get myself stabbed in a foreign country, so I gave him the $10 and asked him to leave. He did.

Now it was up to this local girl to get us back to our hotel. Unsurprisingly, in this near-scuffle with the driver, her friends had snuck off. They didn't want trouble either, I suppose. Fortunately, she knew how the bus system worked. We walked 5 minutes and found a bus. By now it was 5:30am and the sun was starting to rise. The bus was full of unpleasant-smelling Indians going to work in downtown; they all stared at us (in disbelief?) when we boarded. We found some seats and kept to ourselves. Some Indians kept staring; we'd discovered in India that it's ok to stare at people. Sometimes for fun we'd glare-stare back, which usually caused them to stop staring. Usually we just ignored them or pleasantly smiled back, however. After two transfers and many stares, we finally arrived at our hotel at 7am. Once again, Fresh Prince was on. But I slept, soundly.