Although we can give you as many reasons to embark on the opulent Golden Chariot sojourn as the number of letters in its name, for the sake of time and brevity we’ll offer you with just a few. The first being, of course, that it is the nominee of the prestigious World Travel Award amongst the top ten luxury trains of the world.

Golden Chariot Train

It’s not difficult to note why guests at Golden Chariot were impressed, but it is really difficult to list off all the reasons! Immediately you are greeted by the maroon and yellow signature colors of the train, you fall in love with its rich interiors and schematic lighting and hues. In each of the 11 individual coaches, diverse blends of contrasting hues speak of the diligence, ingenuity and attention that has been paid to every detail. The journey itself is your rendezvous with the history, monuments, art, architecture, nature, wildlife, people, culture, folk dances, cuisine, lakes, beaches, and you name it, the vibrant train must have it for you.

That’s why they call the journey as significant as the destination. The caring concierge will assist and direct you to myriad of attractions on your wish list including Kabini National Park, Mysore Palace, statue of Lord Gomteswara, and silvery beaches of Goa!!

Things to know

Hommikul vähese unega sai sama seltskonnaga taas suurem matk ette võetud. Sihtpunktiks Monkey Temple teisel pool jõge. Suure kuumusega matkasime tund aega, kuni jõudsime templimäe jalamile. Sealt edasi viis 500trepiastet kivimürakate vahelt üles kaljule. Ronimine tasus end aga igati ära, premeerides suursuguse vaatega, mis sest et mul pärast sääremarjad mitu päeva valutasid. Punase ja musta näoga ahvid sibasid muudkui mööda kivimürakaid ringi ja närisid banaane, mis külastajad olid neile toonud. Jätkasime oma teekonda teadmatuse suunas. Olles kõndinud maha veel tüki maad kõrvetavas kuumuses, pidasime pausi ühe suure rahnu peal ning otsustasime tagasi suunduda. Templeid olime selleks ajaks näinud juba piisavalt, kaart midagi konkreetset ka ei näidanud ning kuumus oli muutunud juba vastuvõetamatuks. Tagantjärele mõeldes oli see kõik muidugi vaeva väärt.

Õhtul istusime Psychoga jõe ääres ja vaatasime tähti. Hampi templid loovad juba kord sellise maagilise aura. Selge tähistaevas säras me kohal ja täht langes. Mõtlesin, et augustis ikka langeb tähti, kuid siis meenus, et praegu hoopis november! Mõtlesin eelnevatele kordadele, mil olen olnud samuti reisil ning tähistaevast vaadanud. Kuna ma ei tea astroloogiast midagi peale suure vankri, on minu jaoks ükskõik kus maailma punktis viibides tähistaevas ikka samasugune. Üks koduselt tuttav vaade, kusiganes maailma otsast vaadates.

Hommikune vaade: palja pepuga paariaastane laps kükitab keset teed ja laseb sinna junni. Veidi hiljem tuleb küll ema ja koristab süütõendid ajalehepaberiga ära.
Varahommikul suundusin Hampi Bazaari suurimat templit avastama. Kaunis, mõjuv, müstiline ja teised sinnajuurde sobivad sõnad. Elevant Lakshmi paitas londiga pead, kui talle ruupia lonti pistsid. Jäin veidi kauemaks Lakshmile pai tegema, nii et teiste turistide lahkudes koputas templivalvur mulle õlale ning osutas eemalseisvale metallredelile.
„Good picture,” sõnas ta näpuga ülespoole suunates.
Veidi kõhklesin, kuid mis seal´s ikka, mis ta päise päeva ajal ikka kahtlast tegema hakkaks – paljajalu järgnesin talle kõhklusitekitaval metallredelil. Templivalvur viis mind templi katusele, kust loomulikult avanes parem vaade. Elevanditalli katust mööda patseerides jõudsime templi sissepääsu juurde, kust igal korrusel avanesid klaasideta aknad. Ahvid olid end sinna juurde sisse seadnud. Kui roosa näoga ahvid tundusid rahulikult üksteiselt kirpe nokkivat, siis musta näoga ahvid paistsid hoopis agressiivsematena, haarates möödudes mu jalast(mille ma küll kiiresti vabastasin). Templivalvur keelitas templitornist üles ronima. Tundsin, et ehk pole mu sealviibimine täiesti legaalne, kuid kindlasti väga eriline. Kasutasin LNE kingitud taskulambikest, mis alati mu koti küljes ripub ning ronisin valvuri järel aina kitsenevast lagunenud trepist üles. Aknast välja vaadates märkasid mind all hoovis seisnud venelased ja tegid pilti, küll on kahju ainult, et ma neid pärast enam ei kohanud, et omalegi neid kaadreid paluda. Pärast templikatuselt allaronimist ja valvuri väikese bakshishiga varustamist märkasin Lakshmi pesema minekut. Mõned venelannad said ta enne jõge veel rajalt maha võetud. Elevandijuht pakkus võimalust elevandi seljas ratsutada. Mõtlesin – miks ka mitte ning ronisin Maśa järel sadulasse. Õigemini sadulat polnud. Elevandi harjaseid meenutavad karvad tungisid tagumikku ning kinni hoida sai vaid jalgadega tema külgedest või kätega Maśa omadest. Sellegipoolest alla ei sadanud ja sõit oli päris äge!
Hiljem jõe kaldal Lakshmi pesemist vaadates nägin eelmisel päeval Goa rongijaamas perroonil kohatud Sandrat Saksamaalt ja Jan´i Tśehhist. Ilmselt oleksin võinud isegi Lakshmi pesemisel kaasa lüüa, kuid eelistasin oma tossustatud jalgu mitte märjaks teha. Elevandijuht küüris Lakshmit, sellel vaid londiots akvalangi moodi vee alt paistmas.
Jan läks oma magavat sõpra äratama, meie Sandraga aga suundusime mööda jõe äärt teiste templite poole. Vähemalt minu veidi kahtlaselt joonistatud kaart näitas templeid täpselt jõe ääres asuvat. Me rada kulges läbi mudaaukude ja kivirahnude – kas olime ikka õige tee valinud? Vastus sai selgeks, kui me tee lõikas ära hiiglaslik, miljonist plastmasspudelist koosnev prügimägi. Selleni siis viibki pakendatud pudelivee joomine…kuid mida teha, kui kraanivesi juua ei kõlba?! Ronisime kellegi tagahoovist läbi tagasi tänavale ning põrkasime kokku Jan´i ja ta uinuvast kaunitarist sõbra Psychoga, kes samuti templeid avastama suundusid. Ühendasime oma väed. Päev oli tõsiselt palav. Kuninganna vann, mis n’gi v’lja t’pselt nagu Rooma vannid Bathis Inglismaal, võinuks olla turistidele ujumiseks veega täidetud. Mõnikord kohtusime templivaremete vahel koolilaste hordidega, kes kohe meid valgeid inimesi katsuda tahtsid ning teada mis me nimi on. Templivaremed mõjusid suursuguselt müstilistena, eriti veel Hampit ümbritsevate suurte kivirahnude tõttu, mille tekkimisest mul õrna aimugi pole. Justkui oleksid need taevast vihmana sadanud või nibirulased need kokku ajanud… Sel päeval kõndisime maha üle kümne kilomeetri. Hampi linnakesel on lisaks templite müstilisele olemusele sõbralikult külalik tunne juures, kus inimesed on enamjaolt sõbralikud, naeratavad ja teretavad, isegi kui näed neid esimest ja viimast korda. Tegelikult hakkas tunduma lausa imelik, miks näiteks Eestis pole kombeks möödujaid teretada kui neid ei tunne. Mulle meeldib kohata positiivsusest säravaid inimesi, nad inspireerivad mind ennastki olema parem inimene. Ja järsku tundus India lausa täitsa sümpaatse kohana.

Varahommikul tõttasin rongile. 20km/h sõitis riksa justkui aegluubis, nii et busski sellest mööda pani. Benaulimil on omamoodi sarm – dźunglisse mattunud koloniaalmajad, arvukalt koduloomi, mis loovad maakohaliku mulje; nii valged, kui kohalikud inimesed, kes vastu jalutades automaatselt teretavad. Sümpaatne. Ees ootas kaheksa tundi rongisõitu. Rong tuhises mööda riisipõldudest, mis nägid välja täpselt samasugused nagu facebooki farmimängus. Akna taga laius ülevoolavalt roheline dźungel. Rohkem kui üks vagun oli lisaks kohalikele paksult täis valgeid horde, kes kõik liikusid Hampi poole. Peagi asendusid riisipõllud maisipõldudega, päevalillepõldudega, tśillipõldudega ja miskiga, mis meenutab kartulipõlde. Naised värvilistes sarides kivimurrus kive täis korve pea peal kandmas. Ei mingeid ohutusnõudeid ega spetsriietust. Sõbrunesin oma sleeper-vaguni kaasreisijatega, kelleks olid tütar Ruby koos peika ja isaga ning otsustasime koos rongipeatuse linnast Hospetist Hampisse reisida. Esialgne hind riksaga rongijaamast Hampisse oli 150rps per nägu, st kokku 600rps. Sõitsime riksaga kahekümneka eest hoopis bussijaama, et sealt kümnekaga buss Hampisse võtta. Sealgi ei jätnud meid riksajuhid piiramast, nii et viimaks saime pakkumise 20rps pea kohta! Kolm suurt seljakotti said taha „pagasnikusse” topitud, kolm inimest ja neljas seljakott jalge vahele ning neljas inimene juhi kõrvale. Hampisse jõudes oli ilm pisut vihmane. Leidsin toa ja pidin end lausa politseijaoskonda registreerima minema. Kõik korda aetud läksin õhtupoolikul mõnda mõnusat söögikohta otsima. Ma polnud sel päeval peale paari banaani ja küpsise veel mitte midagi söönud. Mööda teed jalutavalt tüdrukult küsisin söögikohasoovitust, mis lõppes sellega, et läksime sellesama śveitslanna Andreaga koos sööma ja jutustasime seal lausa mitu tundi. Temagi reisib üksinda ning on käinud juba mitmel pool Keralas, kuhu minagi sattuda tahaks ning mille kohta ta mulle näpunäiteid jagas.

(As usual pictures will be added once I’ve uploaded them)

After spending a couple of days catching up with friends in Hyderabad, I took the night train to Hampi, the old capital of the Vijayanagar kingdom. Once a city grand enough to invite comparisons to Rome by a 16th century Portuguese traveler, these days it consists of a small dusty village,  surrounded by miles of abandoned ruins.

Hampi is an interesting place to visit. It grows on you. The first day, still groggy from the overnight journey, I wandered about the village streets. The sights were familiar: children walking by full of smiles, saying hi, sometimes asking for a pen; souvenir salesmen and ayurvedic masseurs trying to lure you into their shops; and all around the boulder strewn landscape covered in the remains of the once great temples.

After visiting the three or four most important ones – the ones recommended by the guidebooks and consequently the ones where the tour buses gather-,  I’m tired as evening falls and feel a little ruined out. How much more can one really see and appreciate?

On the second day, though, I venture out further afield and all of a sudden I’m on my own. Vast temple complexes with monkeys clambering across crumbling gopurams, even vaster market places stretching out hundreds of meters into the green grass, and there’s only myself and the occasional caretaker.

That’s the thing about Hampi. You can roam around for days discovering new places never mentioned in any guidebook and only appearing as a few dots on a local map. The ruins line all the hillsides and valleys down to the smooth flowing river that continues to provide a lifeline to local population.

They navigate the currents in what appear to be upturned two-meter wide round baskets. There are signs warning of wily crocodiles, represented in full technicolor, and deadly whirlpools, but undeterred I take a trip upriver after the boatsman rubbishes the warnings. Even here the ruins are visible. We pass temples and hermits’ caves, which disappear each year  under the roaring monsoon tides. At one stage we’re caught out by a sudden downpour, but the boat turns out the be multi-functional as we go ashore and flip it over to create a makeshift shelter.

On my last day I cycle downstream along the river passing the remains of what once was a 400 meter bridge connecting the embankments. I’m trying to get to Anegundi on the left bank, but when I get to the site of the new bridge, which was due to open only this year, I find its two middle sections collapsed in the river. The scene is quiet. A few men amble around a foursome of concrete-pouring trucks, but evidently work has stopped since the accident.

On the opposite bank a massive slab of concrete slants at a 45 degree angle into the water. An old lady uses the convenient surface for washing clothes, slapping the cloth harshly against the road surface before rinsing it out in the passing current.

And just to make sure you stay alert in such peaceful surroundings:

As I park my bicycle in front of the archaeological museum, a man sitting in the shade of the empty ticket office takes four Rs. off me and gestures me inside. A few meters in, a security guard stops me. Where’s my ticket? I try to explain I didn’t get one and go out again, but the man is gone. I buy a ticket, an actual one, from the lady who’s suddenly appeared in the office. That’s India for you.

J6udsin kohale ja juba esmamuljed on v’gevad! kui v’lja arvata fakt, et v’ljas juba pime ja kogu linn elektrita(v’ja arvatud see isiklikul generaatorit t;;tav netiputka).

The story of Hampi is the story of stone. You disagree? You think it is sacrilege to reduce the heady might and valour of the Vijayanagara kings to the passivity of stone? Stone – inanimate, indifferent and cold?

No, it is true. In Hampi, the stones tell you more interesting stories than your guide ever can (and believe me, the guides have some juicy ones up their sleeve). All you need is a wee bit knowledge and oodles of imagination. And nowhere are the stories more absorbing than at the Vitthala temple, perhaps because the large open courtyard space inside the (broken) temple walls allow you space to exercise that imagination.

This 15th century temple has faced more than its share of destruction from invaders over the years, as is evident from the broken main gopura and several pillars inside the complex. Now a UNESCO world heritage site, this temple dedicated to Vishnu is being preserved with great care by the authorities.

A pity, in some ways, since this means that the main mahamantapa has been cordoned off, and visitors are not allowed in. I was lucky the last time I visited Hampi when I could climb up the few steps and enter the mantapa. The outer walls and pillars are carved with intricate and never-ending patterns of dancing women and horses and elephants. However, the mantapa is a delight for more than just the lush carvings; it houses the musical pillars. Each of the 56 tall pillars that support the roof the mantapa emanates a musical note when tapped. Our guide arranges for one of the security guards to give our group a demo; sa re ga ma, guitar, jaltarang, he goes on.

Perhaps the most recognizable element of the temple complex is the stone chariot in the main courtyard, with wheels that can revolve even today, it is said. The other unmissable structure is the king’s balance, the Tulabharam on the way leading to the Tungabhadra, standing over 15 feet tall. It is here that the kings used to be weighed against grain or fruit, and on special occasions gold and gems, which would then be distributed to the poor.

A tip: Vitthala temple is right by the river; the most enjoyable way to reach the temple is by a short coracle ride from the ghats near Matunga hill or a walk by the river. The journey by road, in contrast is long and winding, and not half as interesting.

6th November 2009, Mysore

Brutal bootcamp for the brain.

Sleep less than a handful of hours, minds spinning with ideas, wake up with black coffee, too early for breakfast, meet several new strangers as you wander through the lawns (“though don’t walk on the grass”) campus and get thrown in straight at the deep end with another ten hour day of talks. Some more inspiring than others, some more relevant than others.

It is always easy to find a negative, the speakers you liked less, the styles of presentation or the ideas which strike one, perhaps, as rather ordinary. So, in my write-up of today’s TED India, I venture to take the lesson which many of the speakers gave us in their presentations. The positives of negative.

Sex trafficking and one woman’s straight-down-the-line lecture

No doubt about it, one speaker today ripped out the hearts of the auditorium with her unemotional, straight-down-the-line explanation of how she came to be a passionate advocate for the cause of women whose lives are devastated by commercial sexual exploitation through trafficking. In a society where the emotional and physical trauma of rape is compounded by society’s ostracisation of the victims, Sunita Krishnan stood before a mixed Indian and international audience and told of how her gang rape by eight men at age fifteen led her, after years of isolation and social exclusion, to found her centre Prajwala (Eternal Flame) where victims of trafficking are brought after being rescued, in order to rehabilitate them psychologically, physically and economically and in order to prevent second generation prostitution. Many such survivors of these disgusting ordeals have been forcibly hardened to the worst of male excesses so that they find it comparatively easy to work in traditionally male domains such as plumbing, masonry and carpentry, following training. This is an avenue which Sunita’s centre will explore in order to re-validate women in society.

Many women and children, both boys and girls, are brutalised to a horrific degree. She spoke of young girls aged under five being found by the side of railway tracks with their intestines hanging out as a result of the damage done to them. Who are these men without humanity, you may ask? Her stark response was brothers, uncles, fathers, friends. An equally serious question hangs over everyone. What kind of society excludes women and children who are the victims of its own blindness and brutality, who choose to ignore or prefer not to see? The same society which may donate money to the centre, but prefer that the rehabilitated and re-trained women are not brought into their homes and workplaces. A society which prefers to validate the perpetrators than the victims?

That is why what most impressed me today, beyond anything else, was not necessarily the $100,000 dollars which was raised in about five minutes at the end of Sunita’s lecture, by members of the audience who simply stood up and offered money to help the Centre which is about to be evicted because nobody wants them in their space even at exorbitant rental prices, but by Google, who offered jobs to the Centre’s top students, a gesture that was directed straight into the heart of the problem.

The utility of Google Maps 

Google, often criticised, but who were praised by another short speaker on the use of Google Maps to draw areas in Burma which had been effectively closed to post-cyclone Nargis relief since the UN had no co-ordinates until many volunteers used Google maps to change the environment.

“The last mile problem”

“The last mile problem”, that was another topic tackled by the first speaker of the day, Sendhil Mullainathan, as he showed the need for lateral thinking and the employment of psychology, marketing and science in confronting some of the most basic, but endemic problems which perpeutuate poverty. What are the choices which people make which keep them at the bottom of the pile, or under it?  He described oral rehydration sachets as being potentially the most important medical advance of the century in a country where child mortality has been brought down from 24% to 6.5% but where nevertheless there remain 400,000 diarrhoea-related deaths every year. And yet, why do women not re-hydrate their children when they suffer from diarrheoa, he asks?  Using an example of a leaky bucket, he thinks abotu why one would not necessarily keep re-filling it with water and spoke eloquently about the persuasion challenge which needs to be overcome in order to get over that last mile hurdle. Working out how to persuade women to rehydrate their children who are suffering from diarrhoea could be turned into a new positive social science, allowing the community to turn the last mile problem into a last-line opportunity. Positive from negative.

The battle for hearts and minds, Indo-Pak style

Another major positive from this conference, politically perhaps the most important, has been the dogged determination of the organisers to ensure there is representation from across the South Asian continent. About eight Pakistanis, working in different fields from banking to writing to micro-finance and the Acumen Fund, overcame bureaucratic hurdles and long hours at the local police station in order to attend TED, and their presence apparently warmly embraced by the crowd. Of course, the battle is often at the wider end of the social pyramid – how do we dispel rumours rife in both countries that attempt to displace the humanity of the Other? That is a theme to which I will return in another article, but one that strikes me strongly as a Punjabi whose state was split in 1947 and whose history and ties inevitably straddle one of the most highly militarised borders in the world – a border, I should add, where the soldiers on both sides can be seen to make cups of tea or have a chat when the full regalia of military venom is not on display for two war-hungry publics.

As a North Indian in South India, where it is very easy to notice the considerable differences between North and South, in physique, language, food and customs, it is a cruel reality that the people straddling a northern border literally come from the same stock.

Honey bees and cross-pollen

Enough politics and back to the wider parameters of the social network. Anil Gupta illuminated the afternoon with a lecture on why “minds on the margin are not marginalised minds”. The Honey Bee network seeks to ensure that society can learn from grassroots innovators, giving examples of 70-year old Saidullah who developed an amphibious bicycle so he can cross the lake to meet his love, a two wheeler washing machine that can be brought to people’s doors to help women with their heavy domestic tasks and illustrated how these local solutions fit downwards, creating a place for small scale solutions in a globalised world.

Lighten up people 

There was some light-heartedness in the day’s intensity too. Electronica with kalaripyat, an ancient martial arts dance in Mukul Deora. An advocate of the “fun theory” who made us laugh with a video of how enterprising social planners, trying to make Stockholm’s population walk rather than take the stairs, created a sound piano on the staircase leading out of Odenplan metro station leading to a significant number of people walking, dancing and attempting to play music instead! Or the entirely mad but incredible invention of Ramachandran Budihal’s team who have digitalised ancient Hampi using “Imagineering” allowing a 3D guided tour to pull you back centuries, conjuring up ancient kings and gods in 3D vision in front of you as you walk through protected sites, and even allowing scribbling hands to grafiiti in 3D rather than ruin heritage monuments. Incredible.

And then to Bollywood

The entertainment world was brought in to the day with Abhay Deol, an upcoming Bollywood star, talking about how he can use film to develop social issues – telling us about the Association of the Dead with its 10,000 members being people who are certified legally dead, but in fact remain alive and nobody will acknowledge them! Or Shekhar Kapur, the illustrious film director, who frankly made little sense when he spoke but who cared because he was just so damn good looking!

The day ended with a party that turned into mad dancing and singing, with the last buses heading back overcrowded to double their capacity with Indians and westerners joining forces to sing and dance on seats and safety rails rather precariously, proving Bollywood truly has the capacity to bond nations.

And on that very aerated note, it is certainly time for bed. Three more hours sleep again. We are heading to delirium, dhoom-dhamaka style.

Back from Hampi – tired, tanned and happy! I will work on a more detailed post soon, but for now, soak in the colour and character of Hampi market.

And the doors and windows!

Have a nice week! Come back soon for the faces of Hampi.

Por Roberto Falcão

De Cochin tomei um ônibus noturno para Mangalore (R 350, ou US$ 7,60) e de lá fui direto para Gokarna, praia ao sul de Goa (R 75 ou US$ 1,63). Adivinha quem encontrei no ônibus para Gokarna? O Svante e sua amiga novamente - um sueco que eu havia conhecido na África e já tinha encontrado duas vezes na Índia.

No dia em que chegamos pegamos uma praia acompanhada de cervejinha, e eu fiz uma caminhada. Em Gokarna estava rolando uma festa na praia de Om - são quatro praias paradisíacas de difícil acesso, com pousadinhas na beira da areia e redes para dormir. A festa teve uma grande produção, pesado equipamento de som e iluminação, com centenas de pessoas acampadas na praia. Mas no final, essa trance party foi fraca. Esse é um bom lugar alternativo para Goa. 

De Gokarna, no dia seguinte fui para Margao (Goa) em ônibus direto (R 80 ou US$ 1,74). Tentei reservar minha passagem para Delhi, mas o trem estava lotado. Prossegui de trem para outra estação, só que o escritório de reserva já estava fechado. De lá tomei um ônibus para Panjin. Em seguida, outro onibus para Old Goa.  Ufa, que dia cansativo. Em Old Goa visitei as igrejas coloniais e o museu arqueológico à tardinha e relaxei uma noite no quarto do hotel. 

Parti na manhã seguinte para Arambol, uma das melhores praias de Goa. Fiquei numa pensãozinha familiar. A praia se divide em duas: uma menor, com um lago de água doce e galera voando de paragliding e outra bem longa, com várias pousadas, restaurantes, e as colônias de pescadores. 

No primeiro dia, cheguei ao meio-dia e curti uma praia até às 18h. Às 4h da manhâ do dia seguinte parti para alto mar com uns pescadores vizinhos da pensão onde fiquei. Às 5h, depois de lançada a rede no mar, eles foram dormir. Como eu nao tinha nenhum cobertor, fiquei passando frio por uma hora até eles comecarem a recolher as redes. A manhã depois da volta do mar foi de praia - pescamos uns 30 quilos de peixe. Depois do café, levei uns austríacos que tinham acabado de chegar para a praia e eles foram checar as condições de vôo para parapente. 

Parti de Arambol logo após o almoco para Panjim.Tinha passagem comprada para o ônibus das 19h para Hampi (R 400 ou US$ 8,70). Em Panjim, fiquei vagando pelas ruelas de casas coloniais e depois fui à internet. É interessante sentir a influência portuguesa na arquitetura e nomes dos estabelecimentos – os últimos governadores partiram em 1961, mas a língua portuguesa está praticamente morta. 

Cheguei em Hampi às 6h30 da manhâ. O ônibus era leito, mas no conceito indiano - tipo caixote, chacoalhava muito devido à trepidação da estrada. 

Ao chegar a Hampi, tomei um café e visitei os principais templos próximos ao centro. Essa cidade foi outrora o centro da civilização Vijayanagar. Os templos sao belíssimos, como todas as cidades do sul da India, mas o que chama atenção são as pedras, penhascos e o rio, que formam um belíssimo cenário natural para esses templos hindus. Fui de barquinho (R 50 ou US$ 1,08, ida e volta) tipo cesta com dois meninos remando para o templo de Vittala (a entrada custa US$ 10), que é um dos mais famosos. 

Foi divertido, atravessamos um trecho do rio carregando a cestinha. Visitei também os templos das colinas que ficam atras da cidade e o templo central de Hampi, que se chama Virupaksha. Não tive tempo de ver os estábulos e os banhos da princesa, que ficam a 4 km de Hampi Bazaar. 

Ao caminhar pela manhã pela cidade, descobri que era possível tomar um trem de Hospet para Hubli e em Hubli tomar o Goa Express para o Norte, com destino a Agra e Delhi. Portanto, passei só a manhâ em Hampi e às 10h prossegui para Hospet de rick-shaw.

I am off to Hampi for a photography workshop conducted by the getoffurass guys. I’ve been to Hampi before and knew I wanted to go back. And not just because of this ‘from the heart’ message!

For now: More photographs from Hampi – and ‘My heart is in Hampi‘ from long ago.

To Hospet via train. The sleeper in the train’s a short wooden bench that measures around five feet in length. I’m six feet two. The night’s spent curled foetally, sharing the narrow space with my rucksack while the train clacks and clatters along, a lulling motion that remains even on my arrival.

Hospet’s one long street, dry and dusty, and is the archetype of central India. There’s a discernible cultural shift from the south, with the first significant number of muslims that I’ve encountered. Cattle pull lopsided wooden carts, in among the usual chaotic flow of crazed motor rickshaws and failing buses that blare and career while the sardined passengers look from the roof and interior with a dulled sort of interest. Accommodation’s difficult to come by, and I end up eventually in a rather plush place in which there’s hot water and clean bed and a small portable television. When I switch it on, it’s showing The Simpsons.

This is the base from which to visit Hampi. This sparsely-populated town once used to be one of India’s capitals, and its appeal lies both in its remoteness and the remains of its former status. It lies among hills on which boulders sit scattered randomly as though they’ve been tossed carelessly there. At its centre is the Visha temple, a massive construction with a high, carved entrance, and this in turn leads into a courtyard with a temple at the far end. On my arrival, a wedding’s in progress. The musicians are barefoot and dressed in castoff western clothing. The music they play is surprisingly like swing but with the complex rhythms that are found in traditional Indian music.

Around about remains of other monuments lie. These range from the remarkably well preserved to complete dilapidation. Some are flooded, black stagnant pools lying back from the entrances. Others host thousands of bats that roost in the ceilings, their presence signalled by the sharply acrid smell of guano, and when I flash my torch upwards there’s innumerable red pointed eyes staring back. One temple has pillars so precisely chiselled that it acts as a musical instrument, although that function’s forbidden now, the site UNESCO protected. In the Vishna temple is a stone chariot on which the wheels once used to move. There are sporadic bursts of Indian tourists wandering through, but they view the monuments with a tour party’s indifference.

I’m more attracted to the buildings that are in a dilapidated condition. The elephant stables, for example, pillared and overgrown, and entirely deserted. Or Sule Bazaar, reduced to rubble in places, home now of monkeys that are both territorial and inquisitive, and of brightly coloured lizards that chase after frogs, their yellow bodies streaking over rocks. Some of the smaller places are still in use, acting either as their original functions of shrines, or as makeshift shelters for families who have set up home there. For a place that is undoubtedly one of India’s marvels, tourists are in short supply, although outwith the monsoon season the situation may be different.

Around the outskirts a river runs, eroded at the banks to black sand. Palm trees dot here and there while a sign daubed on rocks warns of the dangers of swimming – “whirlpools – many have died.” It rains, ferociously and when I produce my necessary but rather untrendy umbrella children gather around giggling, clustering beneath it for shelter.

It isn’t just humans who have been affected by the flooding of the Tungabhadra. A congregration of egrets waits on the banks of the high level canal near Hampi for their daily fish as the canal has been overflowing for the last two weeks.

Photograph: Saggere Ramaswamy/Karnataka Photo News

Hey, found this in my old archives and wanted to share this.. Hampi – one of the most beautiful places I ever visited.. Felt like i re-lived the experience, when i read this.. To all those who haven’t gone there, plsssss go.. and to those who have, this will take u down memory lane.. Enjoy..

——

All these years, she stood still and sturdy
Silently watching the rise and fall of many an empire;
Bearing the onslaught of many an enemy,
Tears in her eyes….

———-

Sun, water, light, blood & fire
She has seen all draped in her green attire;
Arched like a palace, the beauty of which seems only for my eyes,
Like the lion-god’s statue, five times man-size;

———-

She takes on different shapes, that of an idol, of a pillar or just plain boulders…
Many a sculptor has failed to affect her inner beauty with his carvings though…
She is all beautiful, all dramatic…
Within her overflow human emotions, that even a human fails to elicit..

————-

As she sits contemplating by the river..
Each wave washes over sand, under skin..
As weeds weave themselves around her,
She fondles them gently, narrates her story to them,
In a language no human can understand..

————–

With every passing day, with every passing night..
She makes them beautiful – the moon and the sunshine..
And to anyone who sits with her, understands her language..
She makes them powerful – their soul and their mind..

————–

And there she stands tall by all standards..
The aide memoire of the great empire..
An ode to her is all but possible..
Coz she is the cause and result of one’s own desire..

If you click here you’ll see all the photos

The first thing I thought of once we saw Hampi was the Flintstones Village. The terrain is made up entirely of massive boulders all stacked on top of one another and looking completely unnatural. Among this strange landscape lie the ruins of one of the largest Hindu Empires in Indian history which are today a World Heritage Site and a popular pit stop for tourists.

On arriving at the village of Hampi we looked at a few guesthouses before choosing one with a great view of Virupaksha Temple from a rooftop restaurant. Since I only planned on staying a day in Hampi it was arranged that we’d hire a rickshaw and see all the main sites. Over the next few hours we wandered through the ruins of the Sule Bazaar and Achyutaraya Temple then onto the Royal Centre to see the Zenana Enclosure, Lotus Mahal and Elephant Stables. After this we took in the Underground Virupaksha Temple which was designed to spend the monsoon months completely submerged in water which is all starting to dry up now.

The highlight of the tour was still to come; the Vittala Temple is in great condition and every single inch of the place is carved with precision detail. The outside pillars are actually meant to be musical and if you give them a tap you get a different note… I couldn’t test this though as tapping the pillars has been banned to prevent further damage.

When I said my first impression of Hampi was that of being in the Flintstones Village then my last impression would have to be that of King Louis (King of the Swingers) place. Hampi was also once know as Kishkinda, ‘Realm of the Monkey Gods’, and the entire area is swarming with them! When having breakfast I had two monkeys on a tree about 2 metres from me eyeing up my eggs. When walking through the streets I was close to having a few heart-attacks as monkeys jumped in front of me and screeched, waving their arms, bearing their teeth, before jumping away. There are more monkeys than people and this is especially true in the final stop of our tour; a monkey temple.

I forget the name of the exact one we went to, there are a few, but the whole thing was just bizarre. I strolled in, while the others took their time, and was greeted by two guys playing music and chanting from a holy book. They waved at me to join them so I went up, sat down and was handed an instrument to play alongside them. We jammed for a while before I was asked to donate, as per usual with these things, so I threw down 5 rupees. As soon as the note left my hand I realised that it wasn’t 5 rupees at all, but 5 pounds! The third guy there, who was counting the money couldn’t believe his luck and I think he just fecked off home after that! Doh! The temple was a little intimidating after a while as it’s literally full of monkeys, beside you, behind you, looking down on you… and when a few started to fight we took our cue to leave!

The last thing I did in Hampi was get up early the next morning to see the local elephant head down to the river for his bath. He just kind of rolled around while his minders and some of the locals gave him a good scrub!

Birthday snaps are all here

I think I was in Goa for 4 days but it’s very hard to tell… Time flew by around us as we did nothing; a trip to the beach here, some food there, drinks at night under the stars… Our group had swelled as well. Now myself and the Swedes were joined by Ryan (a mad Kiwi), Matt (a sometimes quiet lad from Bristol), Damien and Leah (a stereotypical Irish couple!) and occasionaly Antoinette (South African who I’d met in Mumbai) and Faye Holiday (English girl with the best name ever). We all hatched the plan to go to Baga for the night of my Birthday as it’s slightly more built up than Anjuna and that plan turned out to be a good one!

We found a place doing two for one drinks which should have been more than enough to keep us happy. As I awoke the next afternoon face-down on my balcony and saw the bottles of rum and state of our room it all started to come back to me. The attached photos should describe the night sufficiently! It was brilliant though and they even pooled together to get me presents which was very nice.

The following day was a write off but later that evening myself and Ryan were moving on again to a place called Hampi. Now for some advice: Never get a sleeper bus in India. As you can imagine I was looking forward to getting some sleep and since we’d booked an overnight sleeper bus to Hampi I thought I’d get more than enough. I was wrong. First things first; the roads in India are terrible, especially just after monsoon season. We were right over the rear wheels so every bump sent us skyward, every turn flung us across the bed… it was like being on a waltzer… but for 13 hours! The sleeping tablets everyone took worked wonders, but not for me. I didn’t sleep a wink. The night was spent headbutting the people next to you.

Then there’s the people working on the bus who spend the night shouting at each other, at passengers, and at the driver. At one stage, while picking up passengers, the workers got locked out of the bus as it started driving off. They ran after it screaming and beating the windows with their fists. Unfortunately they managed to get back on. To surmise: There is no sleeping on an Indian Sleeper bus.

Okkur fannst þetta vera svona ekta slöngutemjari eins og úr Tinnabók. Flott lagið .. hálf dáleiðandi…

Gandhamadana Parvatam: Situated on the highest point in the island, Gandhamadana Parvatam located some 3 km from the Ramanathaswamy Temple has an imprint of Lord Rama’s feet placed on a Chakra (wheel). The place also commands some excellent views of the countryside. Source

See the location of Gandhamadana hill in hampi here ; http://kishkinda.wordpress.com/2008/12/08/hampi-kishkinda-bellary/

Posting some last remaining photographs:

Virupaksha Temple

Virupaksha Temple close-up

Mango Tree restaurant on the bank of Tungabhadra river

Sunset on the rocks

Sai Ram. I am sharing with all of you, my online friends, details of my recent pilgrimage to some holy places in Hampi, near Hospet. My friend Shri P. Gopi Krishna came on vacation from Delhi and we took that opportunity to visit a few holy places. We left Kacheguda Station (Hyderabad) by Kacheguda – Yeshwantpur Express with slip coaches to Vasco (via Hospet, Hubli etc.) on 23rd September, 2009 at 21:15 hours. We reached Hospet Railway station on 24th early morning and took an auto-rickshaw to Hampi and reached Sri Hampi Virupaksha Vidyaranya Matham, behind the Virupaksha temple, Hampi by about 8 AM. We bowed to Swamiji and went to the nearby Tungabhadra (Pampa) river for taking bath. We returned to the Matham, dressed and went out to the main temple street, where we could get some good idlis. I took the idlis with sugar as I am intolerant to chillies. I also had tea. We bought some bananas for offering to the Gods in Matham and we also fed bananas to two young calves near the temple. They licked my shirt, leaving some stains, which could not be washed away but they were so cute that I did not feel any anger towards them and in fact felt love to them!

We went back to the Matham and Sri Swamiji was busy with Puja. We waited for Him to finish Puja and in between, I showed my friend the Samadhis of earlier Swamijis and the place where Sri Paramacharya of Sri Kanchi Kamakoti Peetham did Tapas for nearly six months and where He was visited by Smt. Indira Gandhi, then Prime Minister of India. At lunch time, we were served simple but good food by the priests and archakas attached to the Matham. Swamiji took care of my food restrictions by instructing them to serve bland and sweet items only.

We took some rest after lunch and then left for seeing nearby places after taking permission from Swamiji. My friend was impressed so much by the natural beauty and silence of the place that he was repeatedly mentioning that he would like to visit that place and stay for at least a week! I told them that he is most welcome any time. We went first to Sri Kodanda Rama Swamy’s temple at Chakra Teertha. We asked for directions to Sri Sugreeva Guha and went further. On the way, we saw some old temples and the whole place was so beautiful and so serene. We saw the Guha (cave) and saw the marks on the stones left by the golden ornaments wrapped in a saree that Sri Sita dropped when She was being abducted by Ravana, and which were discovered by the monkeys of Kishkindha. As the monkeys could not lift the ornaments, they dragged the bundle into the cave and that left permanent marks on the stones. We were exploring that area when we came across a sign board and we took the path pointed by that sign board and came to a wonderful spot that was new to me too (I visited Hampi several times in the last decade but did not notice that board, may be because I did not visit that area often and because some renovation works are going on in recent times). The Brindvanam (Samadhi) of Sri Raghunandana Teertha was located near the bank of the river and the place was so quiet and peaceful that both of us spent a few blissful minutes there.

We returned to the Kodanda Rama Swamy temple and saw Sri Suryanarayana Swamy temple behind, the Yantroddharaka Anjaneya Swamy temple on a small hillock and Sri Venkateswara Swamy temple in a small cave a little higher. We came back to Sri Kodanda Rama Swamy temple and got the Archana performed in our names. We returned to the Math and had darshan of Lord Virupaksha, Goddess Pampa Devi, and Goddess Bhuvaneshwari. We returned to the Math and had a light dinner. We took bath in the matham itself next day morning (25th September) and went to the river to explore the possibility of crossing it but found the motor boat moored on the other side. We waited for a few minutes and had idlis for breakfast in a different place but found that the quality was not as good as the ones that we had on the previous day. We found the motor boat still on the other side and people were mentioning that it may not ply because of the heavy flow in the river. We then hired an autorickshaw for sightseeing around the ancient monuments and palaces of the Vijayanagar empire. We returned for lunch to the matham. Swamiji gave some good time to my friend Gopi Krishna. We went to the temple again and had darshan of the God and Goddesses. We returned to the Matham for dinner. My friend was engrossed in some discussions with Swamiji and I retired to bed.

On the morning of 26th September, Swamiji arranged, at our request, for an autorickshaw to pick us up from the Matham, show us the Malyavantha Raghunatha Temple (which we could not see the previous day), the Museum, the Sai Baba temple on the way to Hospet, the Tungabhadra Dam and finally drop us at the Hospet Railway Station. We found Akhanda Parayan (non-stop chanting / recitation) of Sri Tulsidas ji’s Ramacharitha Manas going on at Sri Malyavantha Raghunatha temple. We also visited Goddess Lakshmi’s temple a little behind the main temple and Lord Hanuman’s mandir outside the gate. We found the atmosphere there very serene and divine. The vibrations at the Akhanda Parayan were very strong.

We found the Sai Baba mandir (Stupam), located a little off the road on the way to Hospet very enchanting. The construction work is still going on but whatever has been built already is very beautiful. The pujari there is a nice telugu speaking person and he told us that we are welcome to visit and stay there if so desired. We thanked him and left for the Tungabhadra Dam (TB Dam as it is popularly called). We found the Tungabhadra river in good flow and about 12 gates of the dam were open. Thanks to a phone call from Swamiji, we were taken good care by Sri Vijaykumar, Security officer of the TB Dam. Our thanks to him and to Swamiji. We had lunch at Shanbag Fast foods, a popular place in Hospet and reached Railway Station, Hospet, in good time. The train (Amaravati Express) came in time and we got in. We spent good time in satsang through the 5 hours of waiting and linking to Yaswantpur – Kacheguda train at Guntakal Railway Station. We reached Kacheguda at about 5:30 AM on 27th September. We left Hyderabad the same evening to Chennai by Charminar Express and were joined by another friend Srinivasa Rao Kotamraju (Srinivas). More about that in a separate blog. Photos of Hampi and near by temples can be found at the following link:

http://picasaweb.google.com/svswamy