Hampi

Elephant, Boulders & Beer Smuggling

Our first day back on the road for two months was to Hampi and this was spent circumnavigating what seemed like the largest opencast mine this side of Russia, with hundreds of trucks lining the roads waiting to reload and be sent on their way. Looking on the map to be the quickest route, this, in reality, took twice as long as the main road route. India: Lesson 6; main roads are quicker, even if twice the distance.

We found ourselves in the nondescript town of Belgaum for a stopover, blood-spattered dogs, breakfast for dinner, thundering trucks at 3am and cold beer on tap in the many off-licences, it was far from nondescript in hindsight but with the only real niggle being no clean water and relentless mosquitoes.

The next day was spent amongst the usual traffic mayhem, and after the typically great street food and sweltering heat we arrived in Hampi. The place is berserk; a World Heritage Site that most people outside India have never heard of; Flintstones verses Jurassic Park with Indiana Jones appearing over the horizon playing goliath marbles. The wide, meandering river winds it’s way past people bathing on the Ghats, alongside tumbling boulders almost defying gravity, amongst ancient, Athenian style structures with the odd intricate stone carving thrown in for good measure.

This place rocks; we’ll let the pics do the talking…

Hours spent wandering around this amazing place we were in need of a cold one, no way hose, this place is a religious centre and no alcohol available, it’s banned and the local police are on the case, but if you are willing to walk to the nearest town some four kilometres away, do battle in the liquor store with the demanding whiskey swillers, a few cold Kingfishers are “available”. So that’s what happened! An autorickshaw flagged down for the journey back, the next problem was described to us in great detail by the driver, no beer allowed in Hampi, so he dropped us short of the town's boundary, worrying that if he got caught with us in the back with beer he would get a fine to the tune of a months money, so we jumped out, wrapped the beers in Caf’s evening blouse and ra n the gauntlet back to the guest house.