Rock n Boul(ders)

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As I jumped off the train at Hospet, weary headed from a decent nights sleep on a noisy old rattling train I notice that Danielle is looking worse than ever. Her eyes are bloodshot, shes looking frail, and a little grey.
“How sick are you feeling? Is it better or worse than before? How bad is your stomach hurting?” I ask hurriedly focusing on avoiding the oncoming assault of a money hungry rickshaw driver.
“That was the worst night of my life, I feel like shit” replied Danielle in an exhausted tone.
“You want to go to Hampi, I'll take you, you come with me” says a short and well moustached man as he steps in between myself and my ever fading girlfriend.
“No we aren't going to Hampi” I say temporarily directing my attention to the driver before returning to Danielle
“Well it is pretty obvious that it isn't just food poisoning, it has lasted too long. We are taking you to hospital”.
For the first time since arriving in India we didn't even bother to negotiate a better fare before boarding the greedy drivers fare.

After waking from the craziness of our last evening in Mysore we made our way to the station for our journey on to the IT capital of the world Bangalore. We boarded with hundreds of well dressed commuters making their way to work or job interviews and settled back to watch the world go by through the window of yet another train. Bangalore was pretty high on our agenda for a couple of reasons, for one we were desperate to eat some sushi and we had heard that there was a decent Japanese restaurant in the city and secondly the city boasts a nightlife which was meant to rival anywhere else in India. Arriving a little after midday we made our way on to the reservation office to pre-book our tickets on to Hampi for the following Monday before haggling with the rickshaw fleet to find a hotel for ourselves.

After finding the most desperate and willing driver to take us for as little money as possible to the MG road area we were flying through the heavy traffic and pollution of the Bangalore metropolis. We are yet to make it to Mumbai where I know that the pollution claims thousands of lives per year through related illnesses but after inhaling enough carbon monoxide in Bangalore to give me Emphysema I am somewhat worried about that leg of the journey. Bumper to bumper traffic can make the smallest of journeys in this city feel like an eternity and also a life long pack a day smoker. Even the smallest towns in southern India with one lane roads can produced symphonic like performances from car horns but Bangalores 4 and 5 lane super highways create an audible explosion in your ear drums. Everyone is in a rush all the time and they will make sure that everyone around them knows it through rhythmic beatings on their steering wheel.

Arriving just short of the central shopping and commercial district of Bangalore, MG Road, our driver turned and asked what our nightly budget was for accommodation. Ever aware that the bigger cities draw a higher price for accommodation we kindly let him know only to get a laugh in response. He noted that if we were wishing to stay in the cities outer suburbs then we might possibly find a room within our budgeted price range but we would be a long way from the action so agreed to let him take us to a more suitable area. Unlike the bigger cities of SE Asia, India does seem not have distinct areas for backpacker accommodation meaning if you want to stay budget, you stay a long way from the action. Our rickshaw driver weaved his way through heavy traffic until we pulled up on a busy street catering for the needs of every Indian local with Pharmacies, butchers, motorbike repair shops and paint stores all sitting side by side leaving the solitary westernised hotel looking completely out of place. To no surprise our rickshaw driver decided to stiff us for the additional leg of the journey but famished we didn't argue in hope of getting something to eat as soon as possible.

For some unknown reason being back in the city made us hungry for junk food so we ventured down to the closest set of golden arches for a gastronomically disgusting yet completely satisfying meal of a burger and chips which was only a short and expensive taxi ride away. Half way through my Taj Mahal Chicken Big Mac I look over to see Danielle changing colour from a light grey, to green and back again before she sprinted off to the bathroom. Returning a couple of minutes later looking worse for wear I found myself feeling guilty for suggesting the that we eat at this family restaurant and in turn inflicting a bout of fast food poisoning. I encouraged Danielle to stay strong and told her that she will feel much better in a few minutes in hope that we wouldn't have to go back to the hotel but common sense prevailed and we returned to put her to bed.

As we pulled up in the rickshaw we noticed that the streets were a lot more fluorescent than when we had arrived and running up and down the street were pink and purple people carrying water bottles of similar coloured liquids spraying their friends and passers by. We had arrived in one of India's more populated cities at the highly celebrated and colourful days Holi. As I have pointed out in the many entries before this, Indian people are the most passionate about their religion I have seen in my life and any chance to celebrate is done so with full vigour and enthusiasm. In our little street the road, walls, children, adults, motorbikes and cars all turned various shades of pink and purple while everyone who had been caught in the crossfire had beaming smiles on their purple faces. At some point during the evening, while Danielle laid asleep in bed, I ventured out to get a bite to eat passing a shop catering for Holi needs. In stock were super soaker water pistols and bags of the powder responsible for the blinding colours all around me. Strangely enough a poster on the wall advertising non-toxic Holi powders. Further research on this reveals that many of the synthetic powders used in the past contained carcinogens leading to such health implications as dermatitis, temporary blindness, permanent skin discolouration and renal failure. I just wonder how many people suffered after having so much fun???

Danielle's little bout of food poisoning looked like it was going to continue on for a while so I went out exploring the town by myself and I couldn't have been more amazed at how different this place was from every place we had been to date. Suddenly there were designer clothing shops, fast food chains on every corner and young men had ditched the moustache. In my exploring I stumbled along not one but three separate Heavy Metal t-shirt shop so thinking it to be a good opportunity to see if there were any gigs on over the coming weekend I stuck my head in the door in one and got talking to a long haired young Indian man of around 18 who was wearing tight black jeans and a Cradle of Filth shirt. He was more than excited to let me know that I was “Very Very Lucky” as Saturday saw the opening day of a 2 day Metal festival called Rockethos, staring metal bands from all over India.

Almost a month prior, while we were in Kanukamari we had entertained the thought of going to Bangalore to see legendary Metalers Iron Maiden put on one of their typical and massive stage shows. Unfortunately it was at this same time that I got knocked around by a bout of food poisoning and the prospect of a 17 hour plus bus ride turned me off entirely. Before seeing the advertisement for the Maiden gig I didn't realise that there was a rock or metal scene in India and after the Zombie experience in Pondicherry I didn't hold my breath for a much better performance. As Saturday came around and Danielle hadn't gotten any better I went on my own to see what was happening at this festival. Getting a rickshaw to the Palace grounds was as difficult as getting a cab out of the Kings Cross at 1 am on any given weekend, the drivers would stop and ask you if you needed a lift and once I told them where they would put their foot to the floor and speed off again. It had me worrying that the 500 or so rupee's in my pocket would not be enough to get me there and back let alone by a drink at the venue.

I arrived at about 4:30 in the afternoon and from the minute I stepped foot out of the rickshaw I knew I was in the right place. The attire of the guy in the T-shirt shop was in fact the norm here and not only guys dared dress this way, a very suspiring change from the usual sight of girls in sari's. Ever glad that I was wearing a black shirt, I walked through the carpark past carloads of young people listening to blaring blast beats of Metal only our mate Metal John would like. With each step towards the stage my excitement levels increased and I got more confident that this wasn't just a strange dream. On stage was a young band with its guitarists throwing down distorted chords while the singer ran around the stage like he was Iggy Pop. Unlike Iggy however the singer chose to growl and roar out his words in a deafening and at the same time refreshing manner. Standing to the side of stage I watched in amazement as the crowd of not more than a hundred wind-milled their hair and knocked each other around in a make shift Mosh-pit. Again however the re-occurring theme of my Indian adventure continued on its way and as the band finished its set four songs later the festival closed its doors for a couple of hours of intermission.

While I did entertain the thought of sitting and waiting for the music to start again, I realised that I would not have enough money in my wallet to get me through the evening and with no phone to check on Danielles fever and frequent bathroom I decided to call it a day and make the following day of the festival a full day of brutality. The upcoming day called for my beauty sleep and I was ever excited as I nodded off.

I guess that I am a horrible boyfriend but as the next day came around I did my best to encourage Danielle to get up and come out to the festival with me and like a true Aussie battler she dusted off her cobwebs and headed out with me for this time a full day of Metal. We arrived as the gig was kicking off and as the day got ever warmer we found a tiny bit of shade to watch various groups delivering their own brand of heaviness from Synthesizer inclusive Dream Theatresque bands to Cookie monster vocals Grind. All in all the early session was encouraging to say the least and as the interval came around we left to get something to eat more than satisfied. To this point Danielle had kept her chin up and endured punishment to her ear drums for more a number hours and I was sure she was on the road to recovery.

We left at the intermission to get something to eat and upon exiting our chosen restaurant we were presented with a dilemma. The humidity of earlier that day should have given indication enough that the weather was going to turn bad but we were in no way prepared for the monsoonal showers that flash flooded the streets. We had to make the decision of going back to the palace grounds to a likely flooded out and cancelled event or retire to the warmth of our dry hotel room. Putting preference to a great time over Danielles health we chose to go back to the festival and I was ever so proud when she made that choice. In the time it took us to leave the restaurant and find a rick-shaw driver willing to drive us for a reasonable price the water level had exceeded the gutter and was rising fast. The 20 minute ride was as exciting as a Dream World theme park ride as our driver swerved to avoid puddles that engulfed cars and we got splashed from all directions by passing motorists. Fortunately we had plastic bags with us to keep our camera and phone dry but by the time we made it to the gate we both looked like drowned rats.

We wouldn't let this dampen our spirits and we ran into the festival grounds to find hundreds of people huddled together in front of the stage and using salvaged advertising banners as a makeshift canopy to shelter themselves from the downpour. While lightening cracked overhead and we both began to feel the cold right down to our bones the crowd started cheering and applauding as an Indian version of Kiss made their way onto the stage. The audience had been waiting in anticipation for the lightening storm to pass from right above their heads and the band delivered a performance that was theatrically fitting for such a wild setting. We watched the band play through for about 45 minutes with staged explosions and flames shooting from the front of the stage while the band in their painted faces and matching outfits rocked through tune after tune but eventually the wet and cold got the best of us.

We sadly did miss out on the last couple of acts but the whole experience was thoroughly enjoyable. Like a couple of years ago when we stumbled across a Hardcore gig in Vientienne, Laos I got to see and hear something that I would pay to see at home and open up my eyes to a world I did not know existed in these parts of the world. To all Indian metal heads as the graffiti on one of the walls at the festival said “Stay Fuckken Brutal”!

While we were in Bangalore and between bouts of Danielle feeling like death we made a trip to a Japanese restaurant to eat a meal 4 times the price of any other we had had that year, got stuck in plenty of traffic jams and visited a science and technology museum which turned older Indian gentlemen into children, pushing and prodding every button in the museum leading them to giggle in delight as they learnt something new.

Throughout this entire time Danielle was either feeling like shit or worse but was positive that it was just an extended bout of food poisoning and with spirits high on our last day in the worlds IT capital was positive that she would be fine by the time we reach our next destination Hampi. The train to Hampi was to be our first overnight sleeper train surprisingly and immediately we were challenged by a balding gentlemen for our seats. I had heard from friends that this is common occurrence on the sleeper trains but the man wanted Danielle's bed for a female relative of his and as we were young and of course not Indian we should have vacated that position. Danielle really didn't want to move in fear of having to rush to the bathroom in the middle of the night and we held strong much to the disgust of the bald man.

I for one slept like a baby on that train but it didn't quite agree with Danielle. I woke a little before we were to get off only to find a ghost of her former self. I tried giving all the encouragement I could but soon after getting off the train had to concede defeat to it being a little more than food poisoning. The Rickshaw driver who cornered us at the station won our business only for the urgency of the situation and as he drove us the one and a half kilometres to the hospital for the promised 30 rupees I wondered where this was all going. It would not have been India if as we got out of the rickshaw our driver did not try to do us over for double the quoted price but we ate our words in preference to getting Danielle treated to properly.

As we sat in the waiting room I watched as an elderly gentlemen in shining silk pyjamas make his way down a flight of stairs from what I assumed was his own room into a small office. When he called us into this said room it became a little more clear that this inappropriately dressed man was in fact the doctor. It was only when he ordered blood tests that we realised this was a lot more serious than the result of a bad meal. When the tests came back with the results showing Typhoid the first worry was that we had enough money to cover the expenses of a few days stay in hospital and it took a worried call back home from Danielle to her mother to remind us that this is exactly what travel insurance is for.

The next couple of days were amongst the slowest and most dreary of my life as Danielle was put through a series of IV antibiotic drips and I sat and waited for the course to be complete. I would have imagined any stay in an Indian hospital to be somewhat more unpleasant than our time in the Hospet Hospital but while the windows were barred like a minimum security prison and floor of our bathroom was permanently covered in what appeared to be silt in all it was defiantly not the worst time of my life. As Danielle downed her drugs she began to recover slowly much to the delight of her treating doctor as he came by every 6 or so hours to see how she was coming along.

It turned out that we were actually staying at an International hospital which catered for some of the many travellers who stay in nearby Hampi and upon meeting a couple of wounded Israeli's we were recommended a good place to recuperate once we did get out of the hospital. On the fourth day after what seemed like an inappropriate meal for someone recovering of typhoid of a spicy curry, naan and daal Danielle was checked out of the hospital and we jumped in a rickshaw to Hampi just a few days after we originally had planned to arrive.

As our rickshaw left Hospet I couldn't have felt more relieved to see the world again. Danielle was feeling a lot better but still quite a bit off 100% but she was focused on recovering in an relaxing, cultural and picturesque environment that Hampi was said to deliver.

As our ride approached Hampi it was evident that this place would be as special as everyone had described. Looking left and right out of the door-less rickshaw we were surrounded by rice paddies and mounds of boulders that sent your imagination flying. The scenery had me speechless as our driver made his way through the township with a countless number of stone temples within walking distance and enthusiastic pilgrims paying homage to each temples respective god. After passing through the towns bazaar we reached the end of the road for our driver at the riverfront where a tinny would take us to the other side of the river to the guest house we had been told to sought out.

Although the reports of Hampi had been positive from all parties one of the things that stood out in all accounts was that due to its cultural and religious significance it was a dry town and beer was forbidden. While this would not be an issue for Danielle as she recovered from a potentially deadly bug, for myself such a setting would have been like going into rehab and I quite liked enjoying a Kingfisher or two a day. When we got off our boat to the other side of the river and we walked past a restaurant with a ton of people enjoying an afternoon drink I couldn't have been more relieved.

Unless at some point over the next couple of years we find an oasis of a hostel Manju's guest house will go down as being my favourite hostel ever. We had set ourselves a daily budget of around 300 rupee's a night figuring that for that price you would avoid such added extra's as bed bugs, filthy bedding and rats. Our mate George had been lucky enough to receive a visit from bed bugs while staying in a 150 rupee a night room and we were ever keen to avoid the discomfort they provided him. When we asked Manju how much his rooms were we of course were hesitant to his response of 150 but I inspected the room none the less. Now we have stayed in some dives over the last few months including a room with bloody hand prints on the walls and for the price I was certain this would be one also but instead presented to us was a comfortable bed, a mosquito net that rivalled all before it and plenty of space to pack and unpack the life that is our backpacks. To top this off a circular central meeting area hosted an all day forum for the eclectic community of travellers from all over the world to chat, laugh, drink and smoke. We understood why this place would be ideal for recuperation and I did my own part in contributing to the easy going lifestyle that everyone at the guest house lived by.

Hampi quickly became one of the highlights of my short travelling life thanks to its brilliant blend of culture, scenery and fun. While I didn't give it a try at the time if and when I do go back I will definitely be joining the hand-full of people trying their hand at rock climbing in the worlds number one bouldering location. As far as the eyes can see there is a rocky landscape that climbers from all over the world come to conquer new challenges. If you are looking to embrace your inner Hindu just walk in any direction for 5 to 10 minutes and you will find a temple that might not have been visited in generations and just cross the river to one of the main temples and you can witness the complex ceremonies of a Hindu wedding almost daily.

We went on a tour of some of the surrounding sights including a steep climb up the hundreds of steps to the monkey temple, a handful of other temples and a quick swim in Hampi's impressive dam. We met a bunch of really great people who I am certain that we will be catching up with again in the future even if it is just to reminisce. In the 6 lightening fast days that we were there we would have only seen 10% of what was on offer yet I could not have felt more satisfied in what I experienced.

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