mumbai

i got off the train at cstm, the old victoria terminus, and walked around to find a cheap place to stay. everything is relative... even the cheapest places were quoting 4 figure numbers. the salvation army place was full and looking around the area of colaba, i stumbled across hotel oliver. by this stage, i was a bit exasperated and was telling the hotel manager that i would even sleep on the floor. “calm down”, said joe, “i’ll find you a place. you should not go to a hotel and ask to sleep on the floor”. duly humbled, he found a room for me for 800 rupees. it was small and dirty, and anywhere else in india, i wouldn’t have paid more than 150 rupees for it. the only good thing was that i was able to access ‘imran khan macbook pro’ wifi network from my room and enjoy free internet.

walking around colaba, mumbai had retained a lot of the old colonial buildings and architecture, and it was good to see the cricket ground and green space not far away. there was a good exhibition of paintings at the jehangir gallery, and i quickly found a good place to eat.

i had a couple of days to pass here waiting for a friend to come from poland. i took a ride in one of the local trains to andheri and walked to the airport from there. there was a lot of construction going on in the area for the new metro network. my friend arrived and i could see she was not happy. not used to travelling, and fearful of flying, she was nervous to begin with. and she feared her poor english skills would be a barrier when negotiating her way through the airports.

we took a taxi in the middle of the night through an eerily quiet and deserted mumbai to downtown. and when marta saw hotel oliver, it could've been the final straw. i should’ve realised that now i would not be travelling alone, and whereas i could sleep anywhere, my friend would definitely prefer to have some creature comforts. like an attached bathroom... the communal toilet/shower place was not the most inviting of places!! but joe came to the rescue again and found another room for us in the morning, albeit more expensive and without a real window... but a little bit better than the one we had. by now, marta was in full culture shock, and i was wondering if she would not already be thinking of taking the first plane back to poland. i was already planning our escape from hotel oliver and mumbai as i went to book a couple of overnight bus tickets to goa.

marta was already much calmer at the news, but her general mood was not good. the fact that she had come to india still nursing a broken foot and walking with crutches did not help the situation. but it was as it was, and we had to make the best of it. we said our goodbyes to joe and took a classic yellow and black mumbai taxi to where the paulo travels bus was waiting to take us to the south.

pune

seems like i just can’t get away from this topic of money. saty was going on about the cost of living in pune, and the cost of the rooms... well, he was in this business after all.  i got the government bus from hospet bus station to pune. the sleeper buses were more expensive, of course, but probably a lot more comfortable! i learnt my lesson. the bus was late, wasn’t even sure it was the bus ‘cos it only had bellary - bijapur written on the board in the window. but i asked one young man and he confirmed it was the bus to pune. the conductor took away my e-ticket... probably surprised to see someone travelling with one on a government bus. i had booked it in hampi thinking it would save me some hassle, but it seems like there quite a few buses running the bellary – pune route, albeit via different intermediate stops.

sunil was good company. he was in the i.t. business and a follower of ishkon (aka the hare krishnas). he said the bus was taking a zig-zag route to bijapur via some local villages... he wasn’t too happy about that as it put 4 extra hours on his trip home to bijapur. he was courteous to buy me some snacks and dinner when we stopped off at a dhaba at 11pm, refusing my attempts to pay him. “you are my guest”, he said. i was sorry to see him leave, and it was a cold draught pouring through the rickety old bus throughout the night. got out somewhere in pune red-eyed from lack of sleep, and got a city bus to near koreagan park. lucky lucky. and got lost trying to find the german bakery... before asking and discovering it was still being reconstructed after the bomb blast devastated it 2 years ago. no wonder i got lost... there was also a 5 star hotel immediately opposite that was not there 8 years ago. now i had got my bearings, i found saty’s place easily, but the watchman was a grumpy old git who got me to call saty so that he could tell him to give me the key.

saty came in the evening and we chatted a long while. saty is a sitar master giving concerts around the world. he also rents out rooms at his apartment in pune. that’s how i met him 8 years ago: then, i had just finished the 10-day vipassana course at igatpuri and got to pune. after chilling at the german bakery for a bit, i got hassled by a hotel/rickshaw tout who had waited for me to show me a place to stay. i tried to get away from him but he was persistent. then i saw a jesus-looking man walking up towards us, and i asked him to help. i explained to him the situation, and after saving me from the tout,  he told me to follow him. he took me back to the place where he was staying and introduced me to saty, the sitar master and landlord. ‘jesus’ was actually called guy, from israel, and he was a musician and composer. he was also good company and a great artist.

saty was also an osho follower, and he usually had osho meditation resort attendees renting his rooms seeing as the ‘ashram’ was only a stone’s throw away. good business too... prices in pune had soared into the stratosphere. so i was lucky when we agreed to a mate’s rate of 300 rupees for a mat on the terrace floor. i made dinner for us and the 2 other ‘osho’ guests and a couple of saty’s local friends too: alu gobi sabji, of course, and red lentil curry and rice. i tried to follow the hindi as much as i could, but i was out of practise. and surprisingly enough, the osho trio were on the drink. anything goes with osho. makes me wonder if it is osho’s meditations that the guys are after, or maybe something else!

pune had lost its charm... just another busy indian city with interesting city wildlife. it was a stepping stone for mumbai...  and i took the train into the metropolis with saty when he left to see his family. i had to make my own arrangements seeing as couchsurfing mumbai had let me down really bad. makes me wonder if it is cultural exchange that the guys are after, or maybe something else!

hampi

the magical place. like the first time 15 years ago. then, i had left gokarna beach in an air of gloom and unrequited love. i took the local buses to hubli and then to hospet and hampi, arriving at night with the full moon. i walked past the majestic temple tower and took a round coracle boat across the river. after chilling at one guesthouse, i decided that i didn’t like the look of any of them and looked for somewhere else to sleep. spotting a small hill, i climbed up to the top. looked a perfect place, just a small ruin of a temple not far away. i took out my sleeping bag and slept. early next morning, i woke with the first light. i looked over the banana plantations and coconut trees and boulders to see a beautiful big bright golden globe of the sunrise creep up over the horizon. it was an amazing sight to see. but then, i turned around 180 degrees to see a beautiful big dull orange globe of the full moon setting on the opposite horizon. it was breathtaking! i was blessed to witness this wonder of nature in this spectacular setting, as i turned my head from one horizon to another. i also realized that i had not been alone... others were waking up from that hill-top too. and as i was packing away my sleeping bag, a group of 4 or 5 guys approached me. the one at the front reached me and asked: “hello, baba, can you start the good-morning chillum for us?”. bamboolay, boom shiva shankara!!!. the chillum-round done, i made my way down the hill and thought to myself that at that moment and at that time, it all made perfect sense.

this time round, nothing as magical happened. i stayed on this side of the river and met some good travellers to hang out with and explore the area. the first day, willy, ruth, henry and i discovered a ‘secret’ shiva lingam shrine on the way up to the temple on the hill. the second day, we went over the river (small ferry boats now, no coracles) and having found the tipi area, the others decided to move their stuff over. i walked to the stone viaduct and walking along the road, hitched a motorbike to hanumanhalli village. from there, it was just a short walk to the hanuman temple at the top of the boulder hill. many steps later, and a few monkeys along the way, i made it to the top. just more breathtaking panoramic views across the whole area. i found a shady spot and sat and took it all in. a couple of hours later, i looked around the temple itself, there were musicians there reciting some holy texts, and the temple swami. i asked about prasadam, and after waiting a little time, i was directed to another building where a woman served me a big thali of rice and dhal. walking back down, i found the path to the laxmi temple and the brahmin there did a puja for me, offering me holy water and a red bindi on my forehead, and sugar crystals as prasadam.

i walked back to hanumanhalli in the midday heat. stopping for a delicious coconut, i enquired about the way to the old stone bridge and the river crossing. one guy saw me lost at the end of a path and walked with me to where he was going. from there, i got directed to the river. there had been some blocks laid down so it was possible to cross over. could it have been so easy to discover the free and easy way to cross the river, i naiively asked myself. it was only when i climbed up the bank and to the temple there that i saw the oblong pillars of the old stone bridge jutting up from the rocks and river - but it looked as if it was possible to walk across. i made my way in between the pillars and jumped across the ones that had fallen down into the river. there were only a couple of times when i hesitated due to the length of the jump or the rapids sounding too fast and dangerous. the adrenalin levels were surging but there was no turning back now. and when i got to the sandy bank on the other side, i was so relieved, patting myself on the back for finally finding a way to cross the river for free. yes, free, but not easy!

but what’s this... i climbed up a little patch and saw that... oh no, there was another stretch of the river to cross. and already i had a gut feeling that there would be no way of keeping dry this time!! counting chickens before they’re hatched! but there was a reprieve... it was another river crossing place by the coracle boats. someone was shouting across at me: “boat? boat?” i was shouting back: “is it possible to walk?” still hoping against hope. i couldn’t hear the answer, but it didn’t sound too hopeful. i gestured him to come over with the boat. i could have swam across but i had all my documents on me. as he came over, he mentioned that the river was too high now to walk across. ok, ok, i have to pay for another valuable lesson. but it good to enjoy the short ride in one of  these beautiful and practical coracle boats. he stung me for 50 rupees... the price for my ignorance.

still, fate has a way of cancelling things out, as the old christian saying goes: ‘he taketh with one hand and he giveth with the other’. so i was a happy camper once more when reaching the vittala temple complex, the ticket office was offering a two-tiered price structure. 10 rupees for indian citizens, 250 rupees for foreigners. well, this one was definitely a no-brainer, as i asked in my best punjabi accent for one ticket please and pushed a ten rupee note through the slot in the cage. of course it worked a treat, and vittala temple was definitely a treat! that stone chariot and the engravings are just amazing.

third day,  i met laure and max, a french couple also staying at deva guest house. we hung out together for a bit, it was my chill out day after a lot of walking from the first two days. apparently, it was festival time, and i had time to look around the main temple. again, beautiful sculptures and engravings. and after, everyone was invited to take prasadam. i took my turn behind another large group of schoolkids. the afternoon spent lazing by the river, and in the evening, laure. max and i took dinner at our regular place now. and masala dosa again. times two! then we heard the fireworks and heard the drumming and the procession coming down the main bazaar road. the kids were really getting into with, dancing spontaneously and with abandon. and soon the drumming was making us dance too. there was one kill-joy trying to make some of the older kids stop dancing, and us too, telling us it was ok for the small kids but not for us. but max squatted down to gesture to him that he was a kid too! perfect reply! and so we ignored him after that. i wasn’t sure if it appropriate at a religious festival as there wasn’t anyone else dancing, but it seemed like a celebration with the drumming, and the lively and loud beating of the drums was enough to make all the hindu gods dance their stuff. sad how we have become so conditioned, but happy to see that the children had no such inhibitions. there was also another occidental girl, kate, dancing with us as we danced all the way into the temple complex! we made a lot of friends amongst the kids that night! :)

fourth day, we persuaded kate to dump her gear at our guest house and join us for a bicycle tour of the ruins. after finally finding the stepped tank and the lotus mahal, we went to kamalapuram and had a thali lunch there before cycling off to have a siesta in the ruin of a temple along the road. we found the road to the bhajan singing temple and spent the rest of the afternoon looking around there and listening to the sadhus sing their stuff. we cycled on past the vittala palace complex and found a place near the riverside to take a sunset swim... or for me, standing on the rocks in the water cos it was too deep. the sunset gave a beautiful purple-pink tinge to the sky and it was a perfect finish to a great day.

 

sunday and a long wait for the hospet bus to come. i had booked a local bus to pune and was waiting anxiously for it to turn up as it was already an hour late. when it did come, the ticket collector took my e-ticket to get it checked out. i met a young guy, sunil, going to solapur who confirmed that this was definitely the pune bus. and when finally we got going, we realised that it was taking a torturous bumpy zig-zag diversion through village backroads to solapur. a long 15 hours after leaving hospet, again without much sleep, the bus comes into pune and dumps me on the road somewhere. by chance, i find a city bus stand and ask for the bus to koreagon park. and not long after, i am standing in front of the shelled out german bakery which was once a favourite hangout for the backpackers and osho-lovers.