Hampi

We arrived in Hampi shattered after our sleepless night. The train station was full of tourists, touts, beggars and stray dogs and none of us had the energy to deal with it. Somehow a local kid had spotted a packet of biscuits in G's bag and kept loitering around us, saying repeatedly "biscuit?". G, V and I dragged our luggage over to two waiting tuk tuks. V climbed aboard one and G and I the other. G relinquished his packet of biscuits to the random kid and we headed off for our hotel.

V organised our accommodation for the Hampi trip and had decided to splurge on the best hotel in the area, KSTDC Hotel Ayura Bhuvaneshwari. This is a government run hotel and boasts the only legal bar in the area. V had booked G and me the presidential suite ($30US per night) after checking (of course) that it had, indeed, hosted dignitaries in the past and would do so in the future (the following week the Prime Minister would stay there, we were told). While the hotel is, apparently, the best in the area, that says more about its competition than the hotel itself. Our room was enormous and very comfortable, with TV and air conditioning. However, the system for locking the door left a bit to be desired involving, as it did, a fist-sized hole in the door, a chair propping up the door and a padlock. Probably secure, but not quite as aesthetically pleasing as the traditional lock and key method of locking a door.

Tired, hungry and grumpy, I think all three of us had our doubts about Hampi. However, as soon as we got out and started to explore, our doubts were erased.

Hampi was the site of a capital which began being built in 1336. In 1565 it was razed to the ground by a confederacy of Deccan sultanates. It now remains a city of ruins. The landscape itself, even aside from the ruins, is fascinating. Ancient volcanic activity has created a dramatic landscape of boulders and mountains. The ruins are set in this landscape. We would wander up and down hills, through seemingly uninhabitable terrain and stumble upon temples, built into the sheer sides of these mountains.

On the second day we hired bikes to explore the area. Sadly, G managed to injure himself early in the day which put a premature end to our biking. He injured his ankle not riding a bike, or climbing amongst the boulders, but not watching his feet when walking down some stairs. V and I kept exploring amongst the boulders, however, leaving G to befriend local policemen, children and various other people who would invariably sit down and chat to him. The three of us also went on a roundboat trip, to get a different perspective of the ruins.

Hampi was the one place we went to in India where foreign tourists outnumbered domestic tourists and even locals. This meant that V got to experience the joy of being constantly started at, something G and I were now used to. He was also continually mistaken for a hired tour guide. He resorted to wearing his cap emblazoned with his work logo and his shorts with Harvard written on them, but it didn't help. He was still subjected to people trying to convince him to get "his foreigners" to purchase some bit of tat being sold (with V being promised a cut of commission, of course). In the end I think he derived a bit of fun from the situation, and would occasionally throw seemingly racist insults towards us (all in good humour of course), shocking and surprising the locals, who thought of course that he was insulting his clients. Meanwhile, we probably didn't help the situation by loudly referring to him as our "guide" whenever we were in earshot of locals.

The other thing we discovered about foreigners outnumbering domestic tourists and locals is it seems to mean the foreigners think they can behave in a way I'm sure they never would in their own countries. We saw countless men walking around, shirtless, and women wearing little more than knickers. Their general behaviour was frequently as inappropriate as their clothing.

Aside from the badly behaved tourists (which, to be honest, was actually quite amusing), and some questionable meals at questionable restaurants, Hampi was terrific.

After two nights and days exploring, it was back to the train station, to catch an sleeper train to Bangalore. V's father had booked our return train tickets and had succeeded in obtaining two first class tickets and one second AC class ticket. V gallantly took the second AC class ticket, leaving G and I with the first class. Compared to our previous sleeper train trip, it was sheer luxury. G and I had a compartment all to ourselves. The toilets were no better but there were no snorers in earshot and I slept like a log.