Saturday 7 February 2009

India. Mumbai to Hampi

I haven’t blogged for ages, and a lot’s happened since that trip to Spain, also a lot hasn’t happened. The flat is still on the market and I’m still stuck in the UK. The changes, I now sell nice cups of coffee at Cafe Nero and we have a puppy, Mello. Yes obviously named after the valley in Italy we fell in love with. She is an 11 month old Staffordshire bull terrier and we adopted her after she was abandoned by her owner. She is adorable and great fun.

The main reason for returning to blogging is our trip to India. Stuck back in the flat, with no money to climb and nothing to look forward to I had to plan something. India was the cheapest place to fly to and stay in, with cash tight it was the only option.
Yvette, chilling outside the Taj Mahal
Once we had spent a small fortune on those extra injections and Visas we flew out on 15th of January.
The heat of Mumbai immediately removing all memories of cold and damp little England, the second thing that hits you is how busy the roads are. The most densely populated city in the world is chaos, 30 year old black and yellow taxi’s jostle for position, two lanes quickly become four as road markings are ignored. Drivers concentrate on the feet in front of them, no cars have wing mirrors, crashing is avoided my excessive use of horns to alert other cars to your presence beside them. The taxi from the airport was a real eye opener, your only confidence in the driver being that you’re not going very fast, so a crash shouldn’t be too bad.
Entrance to India

Our plan for the trip was to catch the train from Mumbai in the direction of Hampi and then via other trains, buses and rickshaws make our way to the religious (and climbing) heart of India.Hanging around outside the Taj Mahal hotel trying to kill time till the train we quickly became the centre of attention. Streams of locals asked to have their photos taken with us, kids sent over to practice their English and the odd tout or shoe cleaner trying to sell their wares, but a breath of fresh air compared to the hassle you would have got in Africa. Due to a lack of places to leave our bags we headed to the station a few hours early. A lucky choice as the 5km journey took nearly 2 hours in the worst traffic I have ever seen (traffic jams might become a bit of topic in this blog).Dadar road station is huge, with heavy packs on our back we felt over whelmed, how the hell are we going to find out train in all this. Simple really, ask the nearest India and he will point you to the platform. Then just walk down the train till you find your name on the print out on the side and take your seats / beds.

2nd Class, 2 tier AC
There is something about train journeys that make you sleep, maybe the same rocking motion as in a hammock or boat.
It’s a very civilized way to travel, we left on time, arrived on time; our fellow travellers where friendly, breakfast wasn’t bad and we felt safe. Hubli was our exit, 4 hours from Hampi, by train. Our choices, where the train which only had 3rd class wooden benches to be shared, this left late in the evening, not getting us to our destination to late at night. A rickety bus with no suspension to bounce us slowly down the road, or the best option to reach into our wallet and get a taxi and arrive a bit more relaxed. I think you can tell we went for the final option. It should have been 3 hours, but thanks to elections and the ensuring chaos as an entire district was bussed out from the election centre it was nearer 6 hours and arrived only just before the train. But that’s India roads for you, and the main reason everyone goes by train.The Train
Our first night at Hampi was fairly mundane; we booked into one of the cheap guest houses recommended in lonely planet, a basic room, shared dropped toilets and cold showers, but right in the centre.
For dinner a night out at Hampi’s premier restaurant the Mango Tree, situated beside the river and in a beautiful Banana plantation. Great curry, in a great location and our first introduction to the Lassi....a fruit and yoghurt (bit like a smoothie) concoction, perfect to end a meal, preferably not on a straw mat on a concrete floor. You also start to trust India, the walk through the dark banana plantation felt safe, something I wouldn’t have done in Africa, the food was good and we had no worries about being poisoned. We headed back through the incensed stalls selling cheap clothes, carvings cushions, bags and almost anything you might need for your stay in India. After a long day of traveling we where more than happy to crash out under our mosquito net and blaring fan.