A: When you're in India, trying to upload pictures from the last month.
Never fear, avid followers (avid you must be if you're reading this, considering my lack of updates). There are libraries and buildings promising internet just around the corner and I intend to make good on updating Picasa or further demonstrate the elusive nature of interwebs hereabouts. Enough - after my first heat-induced sleepless night, our promised AC units (the modern man's oasis) have at last arrived, so I'd best count my technological blessings and move along.
Here I sit, upon an internet-enabled, virus-ridden desktop, wondering what to write about for the next fifteen minutes before Hindi begins. Perhaps I should first excuse my Rushdie-infused erratic writing style; I finished The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime and have moved on to Midnight's Children. And as always, whatever book I'm currently engrossed in temporarily molds my consciousness to its outlook (nasty business, when you're reading In Cold Blood) and thought processes (oh the joys of still reading Dr. Seuss on occasion).
So, that apology killed five minutes - ten to go. I think I'll tell you about Hampi, my first out-of-state travel destination for which copious documentation is just waiting to besiege you:
Imagine if one day humankind colonized Mars and decided to grow rice, bananas and mangoes exclusively. Accordingly, imagine a lot of hippies decide to live there. If you're visualizing shimmering rice patties as far as the eye can see, lined with towering palmed mango trees and shorter, wider-leaved banana trees, all superimposed upon a bizarre, red, rocky hillscape, you've closely approximated Hampi. (Rushdie, what have you done to me?) Fill in the spaces with dreadlocked Israelis donning kurta pyjamas and table-watching Indians hawking handcrafted clay meditation balls, marble sculptures and camel's leather journals. Now just spatter the horizon with ridiculously elaborate temples stacked upon ridiculously precarious boulders. There, that's it.
Breaking now for Hindi but I'll pick it up in an hour.
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Dear reader, two hours later, I've struggled with Picasa for the past hour, trying to convince it that the numerous pictures which Windows clearly recognizes sitting on my external do, in fact, exist. Finally, after some folder shuffling and renaming, Picasa has decided to cooperate. As my Hampi albums putter their way online and I sit here, anticipating dinner, I'll finish my description of Hampi and my stay there.
Hampi, as I'd alluded to, is a bit touristy. However, it's touristy in such a strange, novel way, that it almost ceases to be touristy in the first place: when I hear touristy, I think of a place as being rife with Western comforts. But while Hampi does attract a fair number of Americans and Europeans, the bulk of their passers-through are, as mentioned, Israeli. Israeli hippies, to be specific. Thus, while Hampi is far from strictly Indian, it caters to such a random, offbeat niche that it's far from touristy in the usual meaning of the word.
How does it cater? Lodgings primarily consist of bungalows, strewn about lush forestry, each assortment featuring an open-air, cushion-laden common eating area which I'd hazard from calling a restaurant because it's more like a lounge. Tables, knee-high, bear all sorts of Western, European and Israeli delicacies, from hummus to pastas to nutella pancakes. Psychedelic posters cling to multicolored walls as reggae or reggae-fused music thumps through nearby speakers. There the customers sit, lounge and eat, casually watching a nearly always gorgeous landscape through the open air where windows would otherwise reside. And let me tell you, after a month of almost only Indian food, the familiar food was unspeakably comforting to spirit and stomach alike.
Besides laying about, gorging all day and buying any number of affordable, homemade crafts, what might one do in Hampi? Go see countless temples dedicated to any number of Hindu deities, that's what. Hampi is the world's largest UNECO World Heritage Site, a former Hindu kingdom for two centuries before its eventual destruction. Numerous temples still stand today, the two most significant being the Hanuman and Virupaksha temples, dedicated to Sri Ram and Shiva, respectively. I have no words for the temples, but offer pictures instead, which should give you a far better idea of the scope, detail and sheer size of these temples.
Tangent: I overheard a sadhu singing something familiar as he scaled the many stairs to Hanuman temple. Stopping to recognize the song, my eyes widened/jaw dropped to recognize the artist: Jack Johnson. Needless to say, I promptly joined in. India just gets weirder every day.
Hampi itself, I should have already mentioned, is divided into north and south sides by a river. For ten rupees, the only boat in town will take you from one side to the other. When we arrived in the morning, we found many of these people washing their clothes in the river and observed the town elephant (who would later 'bless' me for a banana and a rupee by gently thumping me on the head with his or her large, hairy trunk) receiving a morning bath. Most of the lodgings I discussed, the Hanuman temple and several others reside on the north side of the river. To the south is the Virupaksha temple, the local bazaar and the residencies of Indian folk actually living in or around Hampi. There runs a single main strip of road, south of the river, which we traveled the next day by rented scooter, allowing us to see the more rural area surrounding Hampi, traveling through small villages where grinning children waved and shouted 'Hey man!' and parallel the river where it straightens out. This was not only exceedingly fun but a great way to see some of the surrounding nature. Again, I'll let the pictures do the talking.
That should pretty well cover Hampi and give some backbone to the (nearly, finally, uploaded) pictures on Picasa. Description and photos of Gokarana coming soon, provided Picasa gives up the attention-wanting obstinate child routine. The trials of documentation endured, I'm off to dinner.
---
Dear reader, two hours later, I've struggled with Picasa for the past hour, trying to convince it that the numerous pictures which Windows clearly recognizes sitting on my external do, in fact, exist. Finally, after some folder shuffling and renaming, Picasa has decided to cooperate. As my Hampi albums putter their way online and I sit here, anticipating dinner, I'll finish my description of Hampi and my stay there.
Hampi, as I'd alluded to, is a bit touristy. However, it's touristy in such a strange, novel way, that it almost ceases to be touristy in the first place: when I hear touristy, I think of a place as being rife with Western comforts. But while Hampi does attract a fair number of Americans and Europeans, the bulk of their passers-through are, as mentioned, Israeli. Israeli hippies, to be specific. Thus, while Hampi is far from strictly Indian, it caters to such a random, offbeat niche that it's far from touristy in the usual meaning of the word.
How does it cater? Lodgings primarily consist of bungalows, strewn about lush forestry, each assortment featuring an open-air, cushion-laden common eating area which I'd hazard from calling a restaurant because it's more like a lounge. Tables, knee-high, bear all sorts of Western, European and Israeli delicacies, from hummus to pastas to nutella pancakes. Psychedelic posters cling to multicolored walls as reggae or reggae-fused music thumps through nearby speakers. There the customers sit, lounge and eat, casually watching a nearly always gorgeous landscape through the open air where windows would otherwise reside. And let me tell you, after a month of almost only Indian food, the familiar food was unspeakably comforting to spirit and stomach alike.
Besides laying about, gorging all day and buying any number of affordable, homemade crafts, what might one do in Hampi? Go see countless temples dedicated to any number of Hindu deities, that's what. Hampi is the world's largest UNECO World Heritage Site, a former Hindu kingdom for two centuries before its eventual destruction. Numerous temples still stand today, the two most significant being the Hanuman and Virupaksha temples, dedicated to Sri Ram and Shiva, respectively. I have no words for the temples, but offer pictures instead, which should give you a far better idea of the scope, detail and sheer size of these temples.
Tangent: I overheard a sadhu singing something familiar as he scaled the many stairs to Hanuman temple. Stopping to recognize the song, my eyes widened/jaw dropped to recognize the artist: Jack Johnson. Needless to say, I promptly joined in. India just gets weirder every day.
Hampi itself, I should have already mentioned, is divided into north and south sides by a river. For ten rupees, the only boat in town will take you from one side to the other. When we arrived in the morning, we found many of these people washing their clothes in the river and observed the town elephant (who would later 'bless' me for a banana and a rupee by gently thumping me on the head with his or her large, hairy trunk) receiving a morning bath. Most of the lodgings I discussed, the Hanuman temple and several others reside on the north side of the river. To the south is the Virupaksha temple, the local bazaar and the residencies of Indian folk actually living in or around Hampi. There runs a single main strip of road, south of the river, which we traveled the next day by rented scooter, allowing us to see the more rural area surrounding Hampi, traveling through small villages where grinning children waved and shouted 'Hey man!' and parallel the river where it straightens out. This was not only exceedingly fun but a great way to see some of the surrounding nature. Again, I'll let the pictures do the talking.
That should pretty well cover Hampi and give some backbone to the (nearly, finally, uploaded) pictures on Picasa. Description and photos of Gokarana coming soon, provided Picasa gives up the attention-wanting obstinate child routine. The trials of documentation endured, I'm off to dinner.
If I ever want to feel like I'm traveling abroad this summer, I'll unplug/replug my router every two minutes or so as I'm trying to do anything online.
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