Memories of Hampi - part I

For so many years, this magical place held an allure to me - a place I have known I wanted to visit since tales almost twenty years old had enticed me. And since, every traveller I crossed paths with was keen to expend the wonders of this holy place. I didn't have as much time as I would have liked as my window was wedged between meeting Julian in Bangalore and Caroline in Ranthambore National Park. Their dates I had no control over, so five days would have to do... for now.

Hampi Bazaar is a small village in the heart of Karnataka surrounded by hundreds of temple ruins, framed by a stark, boulder-strewn landscape. It is a very sacred place and in the village itself they do not sell meat or alcohol (although this is India, so anything is possible). In Hampi Bazaar, the Virupaksha Temple towers over the hustle and bustle of guest houses, tourist shops and restaurants. Auto rickshaws weave their way through the narrow alleys, dodging languid cows and barking dogs.

This is a major traveller's spot, with many people making it their excursion from Goa so it straddles this hinterland of 'real' spiritual India, with the laid-back atmosphere of Goa's beaches.. The north edge of Hampi Bazaar is the Tungabhadra river and on the northern banks the sleepy area of Virupapur Gaddi, or more commonly referred to as ‘the other side’. There is a boat that ferries people throughout the day until dusk for Rs10. Prior to my arrival in Hampi, I had heard debate about which side was better to stay, because after dark you need to make sure that you are on the same side as your lodging or you are stranded. The Hampi Bazaar side is a mini-town, although it is really a village – it bustles with the sounds of village life, the thumping of clothes on wet stones, the voices of family life, goats bleating, autos beeping. Whereas the other side is really a dusty stretch that runs parallel to the river with a series of laid back restaurant/guest houses and backed by paddy fields and the magnificent boulders on the north horizon. It is way more chilled and the sort of vibe where the days could roll into one another endlessly. Both have their merits and given more time I would have probably stayed for a spell on both, but aside from the sheer laziness of not wanting to relocate and manoeuvre myself and bags down the steps, onto the boat and up the hill on the other side, for only a day or so, I was enjoying being surrounded by village life, as opposed to slipping into another traveller ‘scene’.

view from 'the other side'

Having arrived early in the morning after an overnight train from Bangalore to Hospet, a local bus (Rs10 as opposed to Rs250 in an autorickshaw) to Hampi itself, and then waited for a room to come free (most guest houses have 9am checkout as the majority of the arriving guests come in on very early overnight trains and buses), I was unsurprisingly a little tired on my first day. So I took it easy, which seems to be the way of things on both sides. The riverside café that I had settled in for a few hours to grab a bit and do some writing had about 90% of the other patrons in a horizontal position. After my afternoon nap I went for a wander and strolled up Hemakuta Hill to watch the sunset. It is clearly not an original idea as there were scores of tourists and locals all plotted on the rocks in front of the various ruins on the hill to see the sun go down in the distance. A couple of boys were going about trying to sell postcards for Rs10 and I struck up conversation with a charming, if rather cheeky boy, Manju. I asked him if he went to school (apparently his favourite subject is English). This postcard gig was an evening thing to make a bit of pocket money. You can tell he is going to be a smooth operator in another few years, as at 12 years old, he already knew how to lay on the charm with a decent grasp of English. He sat with me and watched the sunset. I ended up paying Rs10 for no postcard for him and his friend to split as I didn’t have any more cash and I couldn’t buy one from one and not the other. I was thinking how sweet he was as he sat looking up at me adoringly until he tried to kiss me! Little rascal! I have to say, I was actually mildly shocked at his temerity. I must be getting prudish in my old age.