HAMPI
Day #1: an early start.
A really early start. Groggy and
tired we got our stuff and waited for Ariel and Mariela to pick us up in their
rickshaw. We drove to the bus station
and got on our bus. The bus ride, a 9
hour long adventure, was boring as all hell, but we did get to see A LOT of India. The countryside changed dramatically from
forest to a dry and arid landscape. When
we FINALLY got off the bus, in Hospet, we had a few minutes to, no wait here we
go again, we caught ANOTHER bus, this time only a half hour trip, to finally
get to Hampi. We got off the bus, and
asked a Rickshaw driver to take us to the place we had booked, The Goan
Corner. He informed us that we had to
cross the river that parted the main bustling bit of Hampi to the less
populated side. We got to the river and
had a long discussion on whether to stay on the side we were on and find a new
place, or cross the river and go to The Goan Corner. We decided to head BACK into town and find a
place there. Ariel and I stayed in the
rickshaw whilst the mothers went looking from place to place. It turned out that they were all crap, and we
decided to drive back to the river and cross it. We did just that, taking the local “ferry” (a
small dingy) across. We walked up the
hill on the other side of the river, through the small town, across a few rice
paddies, and we finally arrived. The
Goan Corner was a very lovely place, surrounded on two sides by rice paddies,
and a very nice view of the MILLIONS of rocky hills. Ariel, being a climber, and Me, being a
rockhopper, were delighted. We sorted
out our rooms, unpacked our stuff, and Ariel and I went exploring. We climbed up, met people, checked out the
bouldering spots, and enjoyed the view.
When we headed down, we had a well needed dinner, then we went back up
on the rocks, this time with the mothers, to watch the Full Moon rise. It was red/orange, and very beautiful. When it was all over, we headed down to the soft
beds and had some well-needed sleep.
Day #2:
The Lake: Before we set out to go to the lake, we had been
told multiple times that we shouldn’t walk.
But Mum and Mariela decided to walk anyway. “Oh its only 3 kilometres” they said. We walked for about ten minutes when a
rickshaw drove up to us, stopped, and asked us if we wanted to get in. After some discussion, we hopped in the
rickshaw and drove to the lake.
It wasn’t three kilometres. -.-
When we arrived there, we took a look at the lake. It was an enormous mass of water, kilometres
wide and long, surrounded by rocks and shrubbery. On a lot of the rocks was written ‘no
swimming crocodile inside.’ Well we
didn’t see that one lonely crocodile.
There was a few groups of Indian guys in boats on the lake, and we saw a
group of Indians/Westerners nearby jumping off a rock into the lake, and there
was a nice little beach next to the rock.
We changed, and jumped into the cold, refreshing water. After a few minutes, Mum and Mariela got out
and sat on the rocks to dry. Ariel and I
went and sat with them when the group of
men that were in their boat came and sat on the surrounding rocks and simply
stared at our two mothers. After a few
minutes, Mum decided she’d had enough of being stared at, so she told them to
stop staring and piss off. A few minutes
later we left. We caught the same
Rickshaw to the Monkey Temple.
The Hanuman Temple: There was a long winding flight of steps
leading up the side of the mountain. We
encountered lots of monkeys up the steps, and the view of the rocky landscape
of Hampi and its surroundings extended with each step we took up. When we finally arrived at the top, we kicked
off our shoes, and went to have a look around.
There was the main temple building, a small structure that was locked,
and not really that extravagant, and then the rest of the mountaintop was a
concrete courtyard. The view was
fantastic. Miles and miles of big rocky
outcrops, rice paddies and coconut trees.
It felt like we were sitting on top of the world. And you could see why it was nicknamed ‘The
Monkey Temple,’ There was monkeys all over the place. Monkeys eating, sleeping,
rooting, just doing all the monkeyish things imaginable. Except flinging turds. There were no airborne piles of faeces around
thank god. When we were done enjoying
the view and the monkeys, we headed down again.
Halfway down the steps, we found a little path leading off from the main
one. We headed along, and found a little
shrine. Near the shrine was a group of
Langurs. I went forward to have a closer
look, and after about thirty seconds, a little monkey detached from the group
and starting screeching and baring its teeth at me, pacing back and forth
between the main group and I. After this
monkey had been going off its nut for about two minutes, a much larger came
out, and charged me, with its sharp little teeth and long legs and arms ready
to pounce. I kicked at it multiple
times, trying to keep it at bay, while also concentrating on not crapping my
pants. This monkey looked bigger close
up, okay. Then a little Indian boy ran out of the shrine and started yelling
“Run Away! Run Away!” So run away I
did. Very Quickly. It turns out that as soon as I spun and ran,
so did the monkey. I made my way down
the rest of the mountain a little shaken, and with one more story to tell.
The day after this, we made our way home. And the bus trip, this time 11 hours, didn't bear writing about. :)
