Wandergliding: Heading to Hampi

February 9-10th, 2011

I needed a little break from the good life on Arambol Beach so I decided to head to a popular traveller’s spot called Hampi, about 350 kilometres to the east. Many backpackers opt to take an overnight sleeper bus but I wanted to see some of the countryside so I booked a day time train ticket. The train departs Goa only from a city called Madgaon (pronounced: mar-gow...yes, a bit strange, many of the cities are spelt one way and pronounced another) situated in the south of the state. I left my paraglider in Arambol in order to travel light which allowed me to easily take the three local buses required to get south. For a total of 54 rupees (about $1.20) I rode about 60 kilometres! At the bus station in Madgaon, I hopped into a tuktuk taxi who took me to the nearby beach called Colva where I had a leisurely walk along the beach as I looked for a place to stay. There were many Indian tourists, some parasailing while others were swimming. I had a nice dinner, ironically called Papillon, ironic as that’s the book I’m reading right now, and then headed off for an early night’s sleep.

This cow seemed to love the ocean...I've never seen one before splashing in the waves:

Relaxing at sunset on Colva Beach:

The train left at 7:45 the next morning so I was back in a tuk tuk to take me to the station. The place was a hive of activity, an organized sort of chaos (as a lot of India seems to be). Their reservation system is fairly complex but I had boned up on the nuances thanks to a couple of good websites. I was okay in that I already had an assigned seat in an assigned class. I had chosen to travel in the “sleeper” class, in which most Indians travel. There are three air conditioned classes (1st, 2nd & 3rd) which cost more and then there is sometimes a lower class called unreserved second class where it’s just a free for all for standard bench seats. For an amazing deal of 175 rupees (under $4) I journeyed the 350 kilometres inland although it did take almost 7 hours.

The first challenge was to know where on the packed platform to stand. I knew that I was looking for car S4 (sleeper #4) but there were no indications as to where that would be. Even the platform’s number was in slight question as there wasn’t a clear sign for that either.

The train arrives:

The train pulled into the station pretty much on time and then sure enough, there were a lot of people walking quickly up and down the platform to get to their assigned car. I found mine fairly easily but it seemed to take forever for the handful of people ahead of me to get on; there seemed to be a bit of a traffic jam in the first berth. I had seen pictures of the berths in the sleeper class and they consist of a large section on one side with two bench seats facing each other with room for at least three people on each. An upper bunk was already in position above the benches and the back rest for the seats would prop up to become the middle bunk so that all six people could sleep and each seat number was assigned a specific bunk. On the other side of the corridor are two seats that face each other and a bunk above. Similarly, the backrests for the seats fold down to become the bed for one of the sitters. My English friend Jon had suggested that the best seat to get was one of the upper seat tickets as you could go to bed anytime; you didn’t have to wait for the others before your bed could be put in place. However since I was on a daytime journey, I decided to go for the upper seat on the small side, this would assure me the window seat. I think it might be the better choice on an overnighter too as you have the window and the aisle seat plus there is only one person below you.

Looking down the corridor:

A typical berth in sleeper class:

Unfortunately, as I reached the berth where my seat should be, there was a Caucasian couple splayed out on the side bottom sleeper. I double checked that I was seat 48 but it was a bit confusing as there were two sets of numbers, some in red paint and others right above then in black stencil. I just sat down on the bigger seat across from what I thought was my seat as there was room and figured that this was probably par for the course. About 45 minutes later a ticket inspector appeared and the couple explained that someone was in their seats when they boarded the train in the middle of the night. The lady figured the inspector should go and clear the others out but they had to do it themselves. I didn’t really mind although it would have only been a matter of time before someone showed up for the seat I was currently in. They moved and I got my window seat...yay!

Gotta love the bars on the windows ;)

It soon turned from the relatively flat, tropical forests to more hilly terrain. There was a fantastic waterfall cascading down one of the hills with the water running under a bridge. Well wouldn’t you know it, we chugged our way around and up the hill and soon crossed it. We stopped at about ten stations along the way as the terrain once again changed into plains that became more and more sparse of trees. While admiring the passing scenery I occasionally read my book and had the odd doze but those were sometimes interrupted by the myriad of food and drink vendors who marched up and down the corridor yelling out their product: “Chai, chai, chai”, “Samosa, samosas”. All in all it was a fine introduction to the Indian train system.

The waterfalls from a distance:

Just after the bridge over the falls:

The countryside gets flatter:

Good ol' Indian train toilet...yes, it still just goes right onto the track...

Even fewer trees:

Now it's starting to change:

The local laundromat:

The boulders begin:

The train does not travel all the way into Hampi but to Hospet, about 14 kilometres away. It seemed like every Caucasian person alighted at this point and there was a throng of tuk tuk drivers trying to earn our business. A guy approached me and wanted 200 rupees but I said I knew that it should be cheaper and we agreed on 150. I know, you may be thinking “Dave, why are you bartering this guy down for the sake of a dollar?” Well, it’s what makes the system work here, plus if you think that for just a bit more than the 150 I had just travelled 350 kilometres on the train, the guy’s still getting a good deal.

I was amazed at the massive boulders lining the hillsides as we approached Hampi. Feels like you’re in Fred Flintstone’s domain. I was dropped off by the tallest temple, Virupaksha, and walked down to the river. Many backpackers stay in guest houses across the river from the main bazaar and there’s a small boat that is constantly ferrying people to and fro for 15 rupees. I spent about an hour walking around and checking various guesthouses and after a few that were too expensive or full, I finally found a quiet place with huts run by a guy named Manju. I settled in, had dinner and then headed to bed.

They can really pack them in this little boat: