Indian Treasures

From Bangalore, Hampi is not complicated to get to. The overnight train leaves around 10pm and arrives the next day at 8am (Hampi doesn’t have a train station, so you’ll have to stop in Hospet). From Hospet, Hampi is about twenty minutes on a rickshaw. There will be rickshaw drivers everywhere when you exit the station; in my experience, it’s best to get away from the crowd and pick a rickshaw further away. Chances are the driver will be more honest, and less reluctant to put on the meter (instead of getting you to agree on an exorbitant price).

At first sight, Hampi doesn’t look like much: a small village, a couple buildings that have clearly seen better days, shops undoubtedly aimed at tourists. The river Tungabhadra lazily divides the village in two, and you can decide to stay on the opposite side of the river - a bit less crowded, but it means you have to get the boat every day in order to cross the river and explore the temples. We chose to stay in the main area. Despite the ceiling fans and the open windows, Hampi was fairly hot at night. The meshed windows kept the mosquitoes out, but the sounds of the chickens and sheep from the neighboring house added a bit of local color to our nights! If you’re a light sleeper, earplugs are recommended – as they are everywhere else in India.

Yet, the three days I spent in Hampi were magical. None of the temples were protected at the time, so you could rent a motorcycle for the negligible amount of 200 rupees a day, and pretend you were Indiana Jones, on a quest to find old, invaluable artefacts. Scattered around the village is an incredible selection of temples and historical sites from different periods and cultures. There might be someone occasionally watching the ruins, but for the most part you could walk around as you pleased.

My fondest memory from Hampi, though, was climbing the Matanga Hill at five in the morning. We had a guide, thankfully, otherwise we would have gotten lost, or tripped on our sleepy feet. After a half-hour, fairly steep climb, we emerged onto a large stone terrace, and from there watched the sunrise over Hampi. Apart from the centuries-old temples below, we could see no sign of civilization. Daylight gradually painted the trees, the rocks, the temples pink, and with a little imagination it was easy to imagine yourself transported back in time. A thousand years ago, I think the view would have been the same. It was a humbling, wondrous feeling - well worth the early wake-up call.