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Published: April 14th 2008
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After a few days of relaxing in Goa, it was time for us to make our way inland to check out some ruins in the ancient city of Hampi. Trains out of Goa to Hampi filled up quick, so, we booked a spot on the next best thing…the sleeper bus. Our bus was scheduled to depart at 9:00, so, naturally it didn’t arrive until 11:45. After our decrepit chunk of transport arrived and we hopped onboard, it was clear rather quickly that we were facing a sleepless night. The bus barreled down potholed roads sending us airborne every so often and slamming us back down on the bed in various positions. Rozy and Nicole were sharing a double compartment, and, combinations of intermittent laughter and grunts of pain could be heard emanating from behind their burgundy curtain. I had a solo compartment, and, instead of being tossed on top of another human being, I was being slammed against metal guardrails and barred windows. The sleeping compartment, compared to those on Chinese sleeper buses, were rather large and significantly more private as curtains hung around each bed. Unfortunately, there were no pillows or sheets and the beds were covered with stains and
breaded (at least mine was) with a combination of dirt and paint chips. Grunge aside, the windows were huge, the night air was cool, and the sky was clear and absolutely full of stars.
The night was full of near-sleeps and the final doze-off was followed by a barrage of rickshaw touts passing business cards through the slowing bus as we pulled into the bus station at Hampi. The bus station was absolutely infested with these characters who seemed to launch themselves onto anything awake enough to listen to their BS. We plowed our way through the ruckus and aimed for the street adjacent to the bus station boasting budget accommodation and tourist facilities. We viewed a couple of rooms and finally settled on a nice little guest house which had lots of tile, mosquito nets, and a charming little rooftop dining area. Breakfast on the rooftop was pleasant and afforded nice views of the boulders surrounding the city, and, one of the larger temples. Concluding breakfast, one of the monkeys observing our meal decided to try his luck and have a go at our table. The little bastard managed to pinch our bottle of Purell and hop over
to the building across the alley where he opened the cap and repeatedly tasted the contents. All we could do was watch as him and his little cohorts scrambled across the top of the building into the distance. As if we weren’t dirty enough on this trip, we have now suffered the loss of one of our precious sanitizing resources.
To maximize our exploration of Hampi, we rented mopeds to buzz around and see the sights with efficiency (and acute laziness). Rozy and I hopped on one bike, Nicole on the other, and we weaved our way around town dogging rickshaws and animals as we got up close and personal with the ruins. Nicole’s caution and my desire for speed conflicted and Nicole did an excellent job of guess navigation in order to locate us as we darted ahead. The ruins were expansive and the boulders dotting the landscape appeared random and often out of place creating a surreal landscape that was fun to explore. As we went about our business lounging in the ruins, chasing monkeys and climbing rocks, we developed a bit of a fan base in the form of large traveling Indian groups. Several different times
we were approached with a flurry of questions followed by a “may we have our picture with you?”. Invariably, the requests were for either Nicole or myself, and, it was funny to see Rozy (the boring Indian) being brushed to the side so the Indian tourists could get some snaps of the white folks. It was strange and felt like Nicole and I were semi-famous and Rozy was our tour guide…poor Rozy.
All up, Hampi was a nice place to lounge around for a couple of days taking in the landscape and connecting to the laidback atmosphere. As usual the rickshaw wallas were completely irritating; however, most everyone else (except the jerk owner of the Ranjana Guest House) was very nice and welcoming. One restaurant we ate in truly understood the concept of “going the extra mile” for the customer, and, the boy server was kind enough to squish all the puppies and kittens roaming the restaurant into a large fur ball for Nicole to get a photo. Unfortunately, the food is nothing to write home about, and, the town seems to exist for tourism so it is nearly impossible to roam around town not feeling like a big
MY DEBUT NOVEL AVAILABLE NOW!
Visit me at www.danielshortell.com for purchase information. dollar sign.
STATISTICS
- Flights taken = 9
- Intercity trains rides taken = 15
- Intercity bus rides taken = 30
- Times lost = 16
- Total instances of diarrhea = 6
- Total number of requests for pictures with Daniel = 35
- Total megabytes of pictures taken = 27,880
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Tot: 0.206s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 26; qc: 104; dbt: 0.1106s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.4mb
Rani
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Bottle of Purell
hey...didn't l give you that bottle of Purell? Little bastard monkey!! Hand gel is soo important in india l reckon. We were using it almost every second. Btw, is it fair to assume that the monkey is faster than Danny? hehehe.