Hampi in the heat

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The drive from Badami to Hampi is only about two hours. Early excitement as we track two guys on a motorbike carrying a pane of glass at right angles to the direction of travel so it acts as a great big windbreak. They nearly come off as they swerve over a speed bump, but we get bored as they seem to have the hang of it and are not going to fall off, so we tell Mr Ali to speed up. The land is fertile and the trees a mix of deciduous trees and palm trees, coconut and banana groves abound, as do fields of sugar cane and rice paddies. Gone are the fields of wheat and cotton. The temperate climbs again, as does the cloud cover. “Cool today” says Mr Ali. “Only 30, when warm 45”.

Hampi. 29sq km of abandoned 16th century city, the ancient capital of the Vijayanagar empire that was defeated in 1565 at the Battle of Talikota by a confederacy of sultanates from the Deccan to the north, after which the city was sacked for six months and then abandoned. The buildings are scattered amongst massive granite outcrops where you can still see the lava flows sitting where they hardened in place. Trees are lacking and in the midday heat (when inevitably we are out and about), it presents a surreal landscape, not to mention a physical challenge as we slip and slide over smooth rock slopes with our hitherto loose fitting clothes plastered to us in the heat. Sweat is salty and it’s impossible to drink enough. But it’s worth it to see the sheer magnificence of this once proud city.

It’s the first place we have encountered any Western tourists in numbers, but Hampi has clearly made it onto the hippy/gap year backpacker trail. Mr Ali deposits us at a backpacker cafe and tells us to meet him at the car park in an hour. Mr Ali knows best so we agree to do so, while probably he pops home as he lives in the next village, which is fair enough. The cafe is run by Nepalis and serves tasty food of the sort that saved our lives in Tibet where the local food was unspeakable. The young things who were hanging out in the cafe were lounging on comfortable cushions and mats on the floor, but the old people were shown by the waiter to a table and chairs, he correctly surmising we would not have been very comfortable on the floor. We were at least 35 years older than anyone else in there. We think that the place is a bit out of the 70s but there is no smell of weed drifting around, even the hippy types seem cleaner living these days. After splurging £3 on lunch we fill in the rest of the time by drifting round the shops selling clothing for backpackers and leather goods that will stink the place out when you get them home and realise they have not been properly cured. Fake sadhus wander around offering to have their photo taken for money. We decline.

Once reunited with Mr Ali and the blissfully air conditioned people carrier, we set off to visit sites that we will not go to with the guide tomorrow. Mr Ali’s local knowledge comes in very handy, and most of the sites we visit are deserted. Along the way we see Western tourists toiling up hills on bicycles or risking life and limb on hired motorbikes. All have bare arms and legs and no hats or head protection. Many sport alarming displays of sunburn. There will be a few cases of heatstroke tonight in the backpacker hostels.

The Vijayshree Resort.......a slightly odd place, bungalows set about 100 yards from the main building. The bungalow is in my mind what a Colonial administrator would have stayed in during the Raj while touring his area of responsibility, all a bit faded but basically OK.



We go to dinner, no alcohol here so it is lime soda tonight. Sara recoils with horror when she sees the outside dining area with low tables and people sitting on the floor flapping away the mosquitoes, but relief when we are lead to the European's dining room. Indian TV burbles on in the background, David may have to switch it off soon. Meanwhile, outside we hear the beat of drums. The hotel is, in fact, not a mere resort but a heritage village, offering a range of faux rural Indian pastimes for the Bangalore city dwellers – camel rides, dancing and goodness knows what else. They don’t have camels in Karnataka, but let's not quibble.

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