Bangalore
We had originally planned on being in Bangalore much earlier and meeting up with a guy called Vivek (whom we met in Kenya). Unfortunately we had missed Vivek by 2 days and he had returned to college in the US.
We arrived in Bangalore early in the morning and tried to find a hotel, after an hour of traipsing up and down the ‘happening’ area according to lonely planet (MG Road), we found a hotel it was nice but quite expensive, it was also the cheapest place in the area.
—–> The Book (Lonely planet)
Sidetracking a little, we’ve found the lonely planet for India an absolute farce. Whilst I’m not averse to some difficulty in travelling another country (part of the experience), the content of the lonely planet was either so outdated or out of touch with most travellers it was hardly worth carrying the extra weight.
Recommended (or even briefly mentioned) hotels were expensive and mediocre, travel information was outdated and recommended sights were terrible. Restaurants it recommended were almost entirely western with NO recommendations for local style restaurants or eateries. If you need to eat in India, your best bet for decent food is to ask a local shop keeper.
The lonely planet’s only saving grace was that it had a relatively clear map for most large cities.
—->
The hotel had 24 Hour checkout so we left our bags in their luggage room and went to take a look around town. We found a cafe and chilled out till it was time to check-in. After checking in and showering we couldn’t be bothered to head out to find a local eatery so we ate in the hotel. It was an incredibly lucky move as we had a really cheap Thali that tasted incredible.
We spent the remainder of the evening watching TV (Price of Persia – an abomination of a film), and decided that as Bangalore seemed so cosmopolitan we would go to a water park the following day.
We got up early the next day and got a bus to the water park, we got in and Laura realised she had forgotten her sarong (to cover her bikini when walking around). Laura walked out of the changing room and the Indian boys/men almost had a fit, after a cry she came back out dressed in a t-shirt with a towel covering her legs. All an all I wouldn’t recommend going to a water park in India if you’re a western girl.
The following day we went to see the local markets and the Tipu Sultans Palace (the sultan knew how to live). It was a pleasure just walking around without 90% humidity (Bangalore is at around 1500 meters altitude so has a great climate).
We ate at the hotel again when we got back and then chilled out for the rest of the evening. We spent the following morning at a cafe whilst we waited for a bus to our ongoing connection to Hampi, incidentally we went to the bus station restaurant and had the best Tandoori chicken we tasted in India.
Our bus was delayed by about 2 hours, though we did help out a young English girl who seemed to be worried the bus had left without her (personally I don’t know how she was managing all the attention she got from the local Indian men, as she was wearing a very low cut top). The overnight bus ride was uneventful till an hour away from Hampi where the bus broke down (the driver was trying to fix the problem with a pair of scissors), we had to flag down another bus which took us to Hospet.
We got off the second bus, and I went to use the toilet, when I got back an Indian man was standing a foot away from Laura (and our bags) just staring at her, I told him where to go in Hindi and we managed to get to Hampi in short order.
Hampi
Once we got into Hampi the heat hit us again, Hampi is a very beautiful but the average temperature was around 36 °C, with similar humidity to Kerala. We got a rickshaw to the river which we eventually managed to cross on a local ferry service after telling hotel touts no less than 20 times that we already had accommodation booked.
We checked into our guesthouse and chilled out (in fact we broiled) for the rest of the day. Our room consisted of a hut with bed and ensuite with a rope swing chair/bed outside. It was a great room for less than £5 a night. We tried to chat to some of the other guests at the guesthouse; unfortunately Hampi was filled largely with the same hippy idiots as in Goa. These people spent all of their time in the guesthouse talking to other westerners, and sat strumming a guitar or two, whilst some others did some poi. They didn’t make any effort whatsoever to talk to the locals (which was pretty easy at the time as it was the final of the cricket world cup with India playing)
The following day we went across the river to Hampi and spent the day looking around the ruined temple structures within walking distance of the town (Laura narrowly missed being gored by a cow in the Bull temple). The temples / ruins are incredible, in my opinion it’s in the same league as the Taj Mahal.
Hampi, being a touristy town was relatively expensive for food and the food was only passable. We ate at the guesthouse next door and chilled out in the evening (Laura: Ahmad also got shit on by a big bird). We met an Indian guy who clearly had some issues with women (perhaps a bad breakup). He invited himself to our table and started preaching about how the behaviours of Indian women were better than Western women. An odd and irritating guy.
The following day we hired a scooter (our first this trip) and went driving in the area around Hampi, (Laura screamed when she got on the back of the scooter) we spent the day looking at all the free temples, we found a cheap thali just off the main road in Hampi where we had lunch. After lunch we went out to an Active Hindu temple on a hill (Malyavanta Temple). The hill was so steep that the scooter couldn’t manage to get to the top with two people aboard. We did eventually get to the top of the hill and entered the temple. We had a look around the temple which was nice but left via the back gate and got a view of the entire Hampi valley which was absolutely stunning.
We relaxed for the next few days, and met a lovely couple from Lancashire, they were of the same opinion as us on the idiotic hippies, it was nice just to meet someone normal in India.
On our final day we found a local eatery on our side of the river, Mike (The Australian featured in the Mumbai and Goa blog) was sat outside. After an uncomfortable silence we made the usual pleasantries and sat down to eat. It turned out that Mike had attached himself to this poor Scottish guy, it also turned out that Mike was leaving on the same day, he asked us when we were leaving and we lied, telling him we were leaving much earlier than him. I can honestly say I’ve never been as glad to see the back of someone.
We checked out of the guesthouse and crossed the river by boat, then made our way to Hospet by bus, where we were to get an ongoing connection to Hyderabad. We had to hang around Hospet for a few hours. There was a boy begging (he clearly had Down’s syndrome) so we bought him some dinner, the sheer number of beggars in Hospet bus station was extraordinary, it was also extremely polluted.
We eventually boarded the bus to Hyderabad; it was the same kind of bus as from Bangalore to Hampi, but it was absolutely full. The bus was extremely hot so we had to have the windows open all night, giving us both a cough from all the pollution. What seemed like a very long overnight bus journey later we arrived into the hell hole that is Hyderabad.
Hyderabad
We were exhausted by the time we got into central Hyderabad. We arrived at the central bus station and tried to find a pre-paid taxi / rickshaw stand to no avail. We had booked into a YHA hostel (our first hostel in India) and we knew roughly how much it should have been in a rickshaw.
As per any Indian city we were immediately accosted by rickshaw drivers. We attempted to negotiate a price or get the cab on a meter but the rickshaw drivers wouldn’t budge on less than double the price. As we started to walk away the first set of rickshaw drivers would approach the rickshaw drivers in the distance and tell them the price they had quoted (think of a cartel). We would explain where we wanted to go and again the rickshaw driver wouldn’t budge on less than half the price. This went on for the better part of 30 minutes and the rickshaw drivers kept following us to alert other rickshaw drivers of the price.
I think I lost the plot a little at this point and was ready to hit someone, when suddenly one of the rickshaw drivers broke from the pack and offered us the meter. We immediately smelt scam but were so tired that we just got in the cab. As it turned out the rickshaw driver didn’t rip us off too badly and we eventually found the YHA.
If you’ve ever stayed in an YHA hostel before, you’ll know that they are clean, relatively comfortable beds, secure lockers as well as being well priced, you normally also get a map of the local area with some points of interests marked. The YHA we stayed at was nothing like this.
How this hostel was accredited by the YHA I have no idea, but it was dark, dank without any secure lockers. The beds were literally a bedroll (think of a mattress topper but thinner) on top of a steel bed frame. It was absolutely the worst place I have ever stayed.
We left the hostel after checking in (with all of our valuables in tow) and went to find some food. We found a few cheap eateries but were so tired and distressed by the city that we didn’t want to do any sightseeing. Instead we sat in the horrific dorm room and watched a movie on the netbook. I had bought some samosas on the way back the hostel; they proved too hot for Laura, but clearly not hot enough with the locals, who were alternating taking a bite of samosa with a bite of raw finger chilli. We eventually went out for some dinner and found a cheap Thali; we got back to the hostel and tried to sleep then got up early to get a train to Delhi.
If anyone is considering going travelling, and I was only allowed to give one piece of advice it would be this.
“Never! Ever! Visit Hyderabad”