Hampi in three words : magical, impressive and memorable. A
small town defined by its surrounding landscape of huge boulders and ancient
architecture. We spent our time there
riding bicycles and ambling through the major sites at our own pace. The
ancient temples individually were no more impressive than the previous ones
we’ve seen, but combined with surroundings of lush palms and mysterious boulder
formations, it became for us a mesmerising place. Definitely worth the long
journey out of our way, it was Matt’s favourite stop in India and definitely up
there on my list with Amritsar and Khajuraho.
In between walking and cycling throughout the area, we
braved the apparently ‘crocodile infested’ and ‘whirlpool prone’ river on a
slowly sinking contraption that the locals called a boat. Shaped like saucers
and made from branches and tarp, the boats were used to transport not only
people but also motorbikes across the water. We were slightly entertained and
somewhat scared by the constant need to scoop out the water that seeped through
the flimsy material. Luckily we arrived alive and unscathed on the other side only
to fend off a pack of dogs that decided they didn’t like foreigners while we
explored the local village.
Matt regained his
celebrity status in Hampi and was constantly harassed for conversation and ‘one
snaps’. Being generous and kind hearted he indulged most of these people with
his charm and wit. However being idiotic and arrogant, he continues to believe
that the women all wanted him and the men wanted to be him. I on the other hand
was largely ignored unless someone wanted a photo of the good looking white man
and his Indian girlfriend!!!
After enjoying some good food, feeding the monkeys bananas
and buying new books, we were on our way
to Chennai, the last stop in India. Unfortunately Chennai left us with a sour
taste in our mouths. We were severely ripped off by our rickshaw driver, it was
constantly raining, we battled to fix our cancelled flight situation and our
hotel lost power for much of the night. To top it off, our last rickshaw drive
to the airport ended with us having to walk 300m in torrential rain because our
driver failed to inform us that he couldn’t actually enter the airport. With
sopping wet clothes and luggage, we were not happy that our tight asses hadn’t
spent the extra $8 to get a taxi right to the door. We boarded our plane with
good riddance to Chennai but with so many amazing experiences and memories from
a country we will definitely return to.
