Well it turns out I’m not very good at sitting in one place right now (and I have been here three days). Palolem has begun to bore me! That and I can’t sleep. The fishermen are having a festival to thank God(s) for their catch, and they set of fireworks as part of that. All night. Behind my hut. And then the generator blew. Like a gun. Behind my hut. At 3am–no fan… So, I’m off to the market and then off for the 15 hour overnight train to Mumbai. Where there will be plenty to do, and one hopes, plentiful electricity (the only city so far…).

How Paradise was Lost:

Yesterday I camped out on the far end of the beach with my stuff and sarong to hang out and go swimming. I just get out in the water when I turn to see this huge black (mynah?) bird come along and start trying to steal my stuff. The wetnaps went first. So I’m running around like a lunatic, yelling at the bird, when a couple comes up to see if I’ve had trouble with a black and white dog. Which had charged them. I’d seen the dog, but as I do with all wild dogs roaming here, I shoo’ed him away. He checked me out but moved on. Heartened that I wasn’t bitten, I made some more attempts to swim while chasing the birds away. Then it began to rain. Hiding under a boulder, I played in the sand for a bit before giving up on the whole beach thing. Pulling my sarong from a rock (where it was drying!), I flicked over a foot long green and black hissing rearing snake. Triangle head–absolutely poisionous. (THE SNAKE!)

Thankfully a fellow from Germany came along so I could share my find. He and I walked back to civilization together–sure in our conviction that the snake was very poisonous. Not really a temptation–but pushing me toward one…

…in that I head straight to the Organic Health Food Restaurant (yes), because I haven’t had fresh fruit or veggies (a no no for the tummy here) for weeks, so I’m ready to try them in Goa at this healthfood place–but no go-a! (That was for you Mom!). I just couldn’t force them down. (Tempted by the fruit but ultimately unsatistfied.)

AWARE now (!) that I am just bored to tears, I’m heading back to one of my new favorite cities to get back into that good (if dirty) energy. Also to get back to the silk market.

So I will write you next from Mumbai–I’ll make it there tomorrow morning sometime.

Amanda

I’m on the beach (literally, about 12ft from it). It’s so beautiful here, it’s hard to describe. Sort of a crescent of pure white sand surrounded by lush vegetation. There’s an island at the tip of the crescent you can walk to at low tide. A huge rocky hill with enormous trees and beautiful views. Bashed myself a bit trying to get out there yesterday (Damn you Keen shoes–I loved you so well!). But if I’d waited another hour, I could have just walked across sand. Des voyages!

I’m staying at the Cozy Nook (ah yes, the trip to Gokara was booted b/c of time constraints), and it’s a lovely little village of beach shacks at the far northern end of the beach. It’s all pretty low-key and isolated. Palolem is a fishing village, so fishing boats line the beach. Every day we can watch them go out and come back in then go through their catch (stinky, a bit). And there are nets in the ocean that it takes teams of eight to pull in around 2pm in the afternoon. The weather has been great–it rained (loudly) all night last night, and it’s bright hot sunshine today (hence my refuge inside the internet booth).

I’ve had to buy clothes (horror, I know!) because all I had were my travelers’ pants (2) and shirts (2). So now I’m going around in my colorful sarongs and “evil-eye” t-shirts. A bit burnt, already, but I know it will turn soon. It’s so nice to be able to be a little liberated after my dowdy traveling costumes.

There aren’t very many people here at all, which is great. Just euro-kids and intrepid others. The thing to buy here is spices, so I’m really excited about that. I’m imagining all the South Indian Thalys I can make for all of you!

Getting here was amazing, crossing through the Western Ghats, coming down from the Deccan plateau, I saw HUGE waterfalls just outside the train window. Just gorgeous. I love trains–and this time I went first class. (500 ru–about $12)

A very wise end to a very successful adventure!

ACP

p.s. For those coming on the 26th to hang out and watch me pack up, this is BYOE (“bring your own everything”!) as I will have nothing out (hopefully, literally) and no time to cook–or even order out! I may still have water. But no cups.

I think I’ve been unfair to Hampi. I’ve been feeling a bit out of touch with body and soul, and I think it’s been affecting my perceptions of this stop. The people are lovely–I’ve developed a relationship with all of the “postcard boys,” who give me tips on where to go and sometimes walk me from the Mango Tree back home. And Alexandra has been super nice. She and I are at a similar place in life (in transition, traveling alone in our 30s, etc.), so we have lots to talk about.

Hampi is surrounded by banana groves. Literally everywhere you go there are banana trees. It’s really lush and beautiful. The town itself (Vijayanagara is huge) is small and compared to all my other stops it’s clean and seems to be fairly free of danger. My hotel room is the cleanest I’ve had (white marble floors and walls!). The entire town is geared toward making tourists happy, but there are plenty of “real life” people here to talk to. And the hiking and biking are worthwhile. And there is some great shopping here. Really great, unfortunately. I keep hoping I’ll find some presents for someone else. But, alas, I’m only finding things I desperately need. Like four “art quilts” that are so beautiful you could cry. I’m trying not judge.

The river reminds me of the Mississippi (my touchstone) in that it is huge and brown and looks tremendously powerful. It’s about 1/2 mile across (again making up the distances) and has lots of those eddys that could pull you under in one second flat. I don’t see anyone on it now–though apparently they go across it in these upside-down mushroom-looking saucers when the river is down. Karnataka (the state) is having major flooding problems, and Hampi has had problems too. The river is a little high now,but it was flooding a few weeks ago. The PM tried to do a fly-over, but cancelled because of bad weather. Whole villages here are underwater. Far from here.

Mango Tree again for breakfast–I was there for three hours watching the river and chatting with folks. I’m not leaving for Palolem tonight–I’m going to Gokarna tomorrow night. It’s supposed to be a paradise with a cool temple. If it’s bad, Goa is only two hours away. But I bet it will be great.

I’m starting to think about home already (both homes). I’m going to be packing up in Malden on the night of the 26th and leaving with Max for MS on the 27th. Come over and chat before I go. I think I’ll be back from NYC by 6pm. Let me know if you need the address. You can pack a box if you are feeling particularly virtuous (and aren’t tired of packing me up already!). It’s just the essentials–the house sold (close on the 31st!–and my MS house closes on the 30th!), so I don’t need any of that stuff out to decorate for buyers now.

ACP

I just finished lunch at this amazing restaurant. It’s a 1.5km walk outside Hampi, but it’s very popular with tourists and locals. It’s open to the air, covered only by a massive (mango) tree, and all the seats overlook the Thungabadra River. You sit on straw mats at benches while the waiters solicitously bring you food, light your cigarette, charm you with witty stories, etc. Lingering and even sleeping is encouraged by the incline of the seats. I was there for several hours eating and talking to a French girl (everyone is French–not one single native English speaker besides me) named Alexandra who loves the place so much she’s apprenticed herself to the head cook and is there every day from 7 until 4. Remarkable. Mostly I’ve been eating the South Indian Thali, but I had hummus (!) and chapati today.

All this after spending the day (and yesterday) with a guide going to each and every ruin and statue and museum in the 20km area. The Vijayanagara empire was vast (most of Central and South India) and the ruins of the capital are large and impressive. The detail that has been preserved is remarkable, despite the thorough sacking by the Muslim empire that included Golconda forces (from Hyderabad) in the 16th Century. To add insult to injury, the entire area was buried in a flood. Excavations have been going on since the mid-ninteen-seventies, and it’s amazing what they’ve uncovered. Separate and enormous baths for the queen, the priests, the soldiers, the tradesmen–20ft high stone walls–elephant stables–hidden rooms for the meetings of regional kings–summer palaces–a mint and a bank–huge training grounds for soldiers plus living quarters and watchtowers. There’s even a setup for an annual festival where the king watches his subjects mudwrestle and compete in games (or so my guide said). I wish I could have seen it all at its peak.

So Hampi has been full of amazing sites, but so far it can’t compare to Badami in terms of my experience there. Badami’s ruins, though much smaller than Hampi’s Vijayanagara empire (and in fact once ruled by it), has several beautiful rock-cut caves. My first day there, I arrived from Bijapur by bus in a trip that should have taken 5-6 hours and took 10 instead. I missed a connection, the bus broke down, there was no English to be found. Typical travel stuff. When I arrived in Badami, I found the hotel I’d planned to stay in was booked–there were several (European) touring groups in town (you wouldn’t BELIEVE the massive, luxurious buses they pull in on). Trying to figure out what to do, I’m immediately a target for small children and annoying pre-teen boys (really annoying). I have them hanging off my arms and legs as I wander around looking for my 2nd choice hotel. Luckily a torrential downpour comes along and washes them all away. Drenched, I decide to go for the top hotel and get an autorickshaw to take me there. Sopping wet, I beg the gentlemen at the Badami Court Hotel for a room. But all they have is that weird leftover room hotels all have and never rent out, but they clean it for me and gladly take my 1400 ru/night (roughly $32.50). This place is a palace (though you may note I always end up in a very good room) with a restaurant (tablecloths) and a pool and a garden (sort of). I change out of my wet clothes and borrow the desk clerk’s bike and head out from town. I meet lots of people and may have been invited to dinner, but I’m not sure. I think it was about 20km(this time, I know). Tired, coming back to the hotel, I head down to the pool for tea and my book (Holy Cow–worth reading b/c of similar experience, but this woman is so very annoying). It was heaven. (Later there is a bus of 30 teenagers from the north who scream all night, but it’s okay. Really okay.)

The next morning I’m up at the crack of dawn. I have a delicous breakfast with the tour groups (eggs!) and I set out on foot to see Badami. Downtown is very difficult with so much shit and swine (who I haven’t yet learned to love) and chaos. Asking at least twelve people, I find my way up the hill to my beloved huge boulders and the temples there.

Badami was a place where the king allowed experimentation in temple design. I make my way down toward the Bhunanatha temples surrounding the big tank (big big big) where the women are doing laundry on the steps leading down. I walk along the side, and I am immediately in the company of two small girls. Completely charming, they lead me toward the temples doing Bollywood dances, with the larger girl hitting the smaller one if she screws up a step. They lead me to a small boy who begins giving me a tour of all the temples in the area–pointing out gods and goddesses and how the temple structures had changed. I think he was eight. They even led me to a cave I never would have found where I had to crawl on my hands and feet to get inside. The Buddha temple. Buddha is the ninth incarnation of Vishnu, so he’s in a lot of the carvings.

A tip here: Learn the gods and goddesses (and all their incarnations, and the dramatic stories of their lives and adventures) of the Hindu religion before coming to India if you intend to understand anything about history or art or architecture or people or, well, or anything. This is critical. I’ve had several remedial classes from various guides, but if I’d known before it would have made things easier. This is so much a part of the live of Indians that when the lives of the gods were serialized into a TV movie, it nearly shut down the country with everyone watching.

So that was fun, then I hired a guide to show me the caves, which were amazing. They were used as temples and have incredibly elaborate carvings of the gods and goddesses in all their incarnations. Leaving there, I was tired, but deternined to press on. I hired a cab to take me to the Mahakala temple. I tried to sneak around the outside without actually entering the temple, but I wound up going in the back and surrounded again by little girls, who wanted something for me (pens and chocolate are tops–who did this?) so I gave them dried apricots. They thought that was great. The priest, dressed in a pristine white sarong (folded and tied up) and a red and white checked scarf, finally found me and led me around on a tour/lecture and periodically quizzed me (hence the need for pre-trip lessons). He took me into the temple and introduced me to his brother, also a priest. They were very sweet and marked my forehead with the tripundra as well as a tilak in between my eyes. It was a bit dizzying, but I did meet a lovely girl in the temple who wrote her name in my journal and offered to be any help any time.

Then! I had my driver drop me off on the side of the road so I could climb the huge, round, red rock cliffs, thinking I’d be alone and I could lie on my back and look up at the clouds. I make my way to the top, lie down, and immediately (!) there is giggling behind my ear. You are never alone in India. I am in the middle of goat herders, goat-herder-apprentices, and goat-herder-apprentice-helpers. And goats, of course. We bargain for my things (as is the convention, I think). A looney looking old man approached with betel-juice stained teeth and an ratty old dhoti. I shared my food with them (the driver gave me food, worried about me going rock-climbing), and that seemed to do it. All of them spoke only Karnatakan, but we managed and they took me into their fold and showed me all the best spots for looking out at the goats. Then introduced me to all the area goat herders. There were a couple of goat emergencies during this period (since all the goat herders were with me), but nothing too worrisome. Most were solved by calling the goats (screaming and BAAA sounds). We “talked” about TV (there is a tower for the TV on the hill). Apparently there is only Hindi and Urdu TV. Upsetting for them. So after we hung out for a while, the head guy dismissed me, and I made my way back to my hotel. Fantastic day.

So, that sort of catches you up. Sorry to be so long-winded. I may post again tomorrow if I think I’ve forgotten something. Then I think I’m off to Palolem in Goa (beach) before I head back to Mumbai. I may go to Gokarna. This is feeling up in the air still.

Off to the countryside! Again, I may be out of touch for some time.

Golconda Fort is unbelievable. It was built to incorporate the boulders I was raving about in the previous post. It’s just carved right into this natural fort. The boulders are three or four stories tall. I think mother’s rock obsession has finally rubbed off on me. So many pictures of boulders… The engineering of the Fort was unreal–there was hot and cold plumbing throughout–in the 16-17th century! Acoustics for surround sound. Long distance communication. This is a must for anyone visiting South India, in my opinion. Skip the light show, though.

Do not take tours from Andhra Pradesh Tourism. Completely disheartening–they wouldn’t take me on the water to see the huge Buddha, even after they promised. And we waited on a steaming bus for an hour before we started. I abandoned the tour at the Salar Jung Museum. Such a strange place. The Indian art is kept in unheated, poorly lit rooms while the Western art collection is kept in a pristine, A/C, MFA-quality wing. The miniature Indian paintings were beautiful. The AP Tourism did help me with the Bijapur trip–really kind and generous, I think.

In the news (that is preoccupying me):

Several people have been sucked down storm drains here in Hyderabad–even when there was no flooding. Horrifying–and contributing a bit to my Alice in Wonderland feeling (if it had anything to do with me, which it doesn’t–it just makes one feel a bit mad [crazy]).

And, of course, the release of the report regarding the 1984 Sikh riots (3000 Sikh were killed by the police). This is the main preoccupation of the news. It’s so hard for me to understand how it could happen–I know it’s hard for everyone to understand. So much grief.

On a much lighter note–strange horns may outlawed. Young men are fitting their vehicles with horns that sound like screaming babies or animals in order to get attention and to get through traffic. If I go mad in India it will be because of the horns.

I will meet with Rao’s niece this afternoon and then leave for Bijapur.

ACP