Getting Back in the Air

February 19th, 2011

Having not flown in more than ten days, I was ready to take to the air no matter how short the flight. The Swedish couple, Martin and Ida, had expressed interest in watching me take off so they walked with me around to the Sweet Water Beach where we ran into Naomi who joined us. We checked out the main launch to enjoy the view of Kerem Beach before heading back to the south launch due to the southwesterly wind.

With Martin and Ida on the launch:

Naomi and Martin with some random dog:


Ida's Henna tattoo...big cedar like trees...which Martin actually did and she gets many compliments about it:

Getting ready to launch:

The wind was quite strong and on my first launch attempt I was pulled back extremely quickly, almost running into a bush but instead laying half of my wing into it. Although the bush was a bit prickly, we extracted the paraglider in five minutes and I was set up for another attempt...this time with Martin anchoring me, which worked well and I shot up into the air. The three watched for a bit before hiking down to the beach. The flying conditions were not great as all the wings were stuck on the one ridge and it was slow tracking in one direction. I decided to land near my “entourage”, packed up and then we stopped for a drink on the walk back around the rocky headland.

Paragliding buddy Paul from England is a professional busker and this is how he often spends the late afternoons:

Late that afternoon, Remi and Julia left, heading back to Mumbai before returning to Australia. It was great fun to hang out with them, albeit for a short time. Salut mes amis!

The Return of the Great Zohar!

February 18th, 2011

Back in December I befriended an Israeli woman, Zohar. She was an amazing help to me back then and went far and beyond the call of duty for a fellow traveller whom she had only known for a few weeks. She has been traveling down south in the states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu and also took some courses in “Watsu”, a type of Shiatsu performed in a warm pool.

I knew that Zohar was returning to Arambol today and it was awesome to see her walk out onto the beach from the Olive Garden...big hugs and smiles. She was with another Israeli woman, Naomi, whom she’d met while traveling. I had hoped to surprise Zohar with some flowers but the old yet tireless Indian lady with teeth that are almost falling out who sells flower necklaces hadn’t made her round yet today. Zohar and Naomi walked down the beach to check out some guesthouses and then sure enough “Fl-ow you buy?” There was that unmistakeable sales pitch of the hardest working vendor on the beach. Oh well, better late than never.

My good friend Zohar:

Along with another good friend Panna:

The French couple that I met in Hampi, Remi and Julia, also arrived in Arambol. Even though we only spent one day together in Hampi, it was a great connection and it was super to see them again as well. That evening entailed a nice dinner in the Garden with some heated games of Jenga...

Remi testing his agility:

Now Julia's turn:

Welcome back Zohar!

Bussing Back to Goa

February 16th, 2011

I had scheduled an overnight bus to return to Goa as the trains were all full. I’d never been on a “sleeper bus” before so I was looking forward to the adventure until a nasty chicken mushroom burger had a little revolt in my tummy from my meal the night before and most of this day. I had planned to check out a couple more temples on the other side of the river from where I was staying before getting a rickshaw to Hospet to catch the bus. Well, I ended up in bed and on my flat board hammock until it was time to go. In packing light I had forgotten a few essentials back in Goa such as a towel, bed sheet and most importantly Immodium. The sleeper buses don’t have toilets on them so this could be an interesting experience...

As I walked down to the little ferryboat to cross the river, I briefly spoke to an older backpacking woman. I asked her “So this may be a strange question from a stranger, but as a fellow traveller, do you happen to have any anti-diarrhea pills?”

“No I don’t” she replied, “I make sure that I’m very careful of what I eat as I’m travelling on my own.” Thanks a lot lady...that really helps but as we all know ‘Sh*t happens’ or more appropriately in India: ‘The sh*ts happen’.

Well to cut a long story short, I found a drug store when I arrived in Hospet and the Delhi Belly didn’t cause me any grief on the ride. I lucked out that the bus wasn’t totally full so I had two sleeper beds to myself, and good thing too as I couldn’t imagine if I had to share it. They are about six feet in length and not terribly wide so you would have to get a bit cozy with your neighbour.

The bus arrived in Panjim around 5:30am while it was still dark and I shared a taxi with an American woman to Arambol. Arriving before the beach was awake, I hiked up the small hill at the north end of the beach (where I paraglide) to watch the sun rise...great way to start the day and welcome me back to Goa.




Back in the Olive Garden, there were more people around that I knew than there were before I left for Hampi. A Swedish couple, Martin and Ida, returned after traveling up north for a month and a half. Additionally, three English women, Ren, Maz and Lucy, were back from journeying down south...ahh, back at my Indian home...

Sunrise and Scootering in Hampi

February 15th, 2011

After a relatively quiet day yesterday, I arose early with the plan of catching sunrise from the Monkey Temple. I rented a wimpy motorbike from the same place as before but they gave me a bit of an older model, but it should still do the trick...so the title of this entry is a bit bogus as I did have a motorcycle and not a scooter but that would mess up the alliteration! Sadly my bike had less power than a scooter!

I was out the door at about 6:15am and began climbing the 575 stairs to the top ten minutes later. Plenty of monkeys were playing about near the peak while others sat in trees, seemingly just as interested in catching the sunrise as I was. As sunrises go it wasn’t a top ten by any means, not a big range of colours, but it was still quite beautiful.


A tired Dave:

Nice to share it with monkeys.

The Monkey Temple:

Walking around the rocky top, I met an Israeli fellow sporting a massive black afro, wearing a green t-shirt and baggy red pants and sunglasses. His name was Lee, so I guess technically he was “Israe-Lee” (sorry, couldn’t resist). I chatted with him for at least half an hour and I was amazed at the traveling bravado he had. Having not left Israel before, he arrived in India a couple of months ago with no real plan and he purposefully didn’t research it either. He just arrived in Mumbai and got on a train to anywhere. He said that he didn’t see a non-Indian person for three weeks! Talk about getting yourself immersed.

Me, still looking tired:

Music from the temple at sunrise:


After he left, I started to contemplate what the attraction of Hampi was for all of these travellers. Sure there are the ancient temples and the crazy landscape of monolithic boulders, but once you’ve had your fill of those, why stick around as so many people seem to do? Maybe it is just the simple fact, as Israe-Lee put it, that it’s just such weird and strange terrain, unlike anything you see anywhere else that it just captures the imagination.

The spire:

On my way down I passed numerous Indian workers carrying up big bags of cement. They each had their section of stairs that they would carry up a bag, pass it on to the next guy and then return down for the next one. Looked like quite a workout and I was amazed at how skinny some of the legs of these guys still were!

Hauling cement old school:

The busted bridge, supposedly from a dam overflow a few years ago:

In the afternoon I was on a quest to find the lake that all backpackers talk about. It’s an artificial lake created by a dam that not only provides hydroelectricity but the water is diverted to numerous canals to provide irrigation for many rice fields. It was easy to find and after parking the bike I hiked about 20 minutes along a small trail. While hanging out on a big rock by the water, I heard a lot of rustling behind me and watched as a troop of monkeys worked their way down to the edge of the lake for a drink. They didn’t seem to care that I was there as they scurried around both sides of the rock. Wow, pretty cool to just hang out and observe these nimble guys in their element!

The dam lip:

One of many precarious rocks in the region:


Monkeys all around:


Back on the bike I followed a canal for at least 10 kilometres. I was occasionally flagged down by kids who either wanted a “school pen”, a ride or occasionally rupees. One cocky little guy asked me my name, where I was from and then proceeded to demand 5 rupees as this was “his India” that I was visiting...of course I didn’t pay him but shook his hand for trying.

Very rocky terrain:

My wimpy steed:

My "horn":


A small backroad:

The roads became smaller and rougher but I had a general idea where I was thanks to the sun. I didn’t have an exact measure of the distance I had travelled as the odometer and speedometer were kaput on this old bike but I knew that I should soon be popping into a town called Gangavati that I visited briefly a couple of days ago and sure enough I did. I rode back on the paved roads to Hampi and returned the bike...what a great way to explore!

A typical house in the area:

Arriving in Gangavati:

A Gandhi statue:

Hampi on a Hog

February 13th, 2011

Well, maybe I’m misleading you a bit with the title, it was hardly a hog (Harley Davidson motorbike)...but more like an 80cc bike with the same power as a scooter but better shocks. I rented the bike for 150 rupees plus the same amount again for a couple litres of gas. My plan was just to tour around on the north side of the river (where I’m staying) and see what I can see. The roads are a bit bumpier than in Goa but the scenery was mesmerizing. I did a little off roading and was impressed with the handling of the bike. I had turned off the paved road to follow a sign to a temple but it beats me where it was. I got pretty much to the end of the trail and there were four people hacking away at the big rocks to get nice slabs to be sold.

A large insect at breakfast, nice ones though, they weren't bothered with humans at all:

Goat rush hour:

My trusty steed:

On the road:


Off the road:


Back on the main road, I travelled about 12 kilometres and hit the town (small city by Canada standards...but merely a town here) called Gangawati. I ventured as far as a fancy bus station and then turned around to head back to the Hampi vicinity. I turned into a small village called Anegundi. The Lonely Planet guide mentions this place as a sort of “Hampi that hasn’t been touristized” (they didn’t actually use that word...I just coined it). As I drove down the dusty little streets lined with old houses and some straw huts, almost every local I saw, old and young, said “Namaste” to me...very friendly place. There was a massive wooden chariot at one intersection but I have no idea about the history of it.

Friendly guys in Gangawati:

The entrance to Anegundi:

Nice wooden chariot:

By the river:

Cute kid in Anegundi:

Some houses were pretty simple:

At a small temple at the end of town, I met a young French couple, Remi and Julia, who were touring around on a bike like me. They have been living in Australia for the last year or so with Julia studying her masters in events planning and Remi taking the odd course while they both also work. They were on a quest to locate the infamous monkey temple and it was definitely on my list of things to see before I leave so we decided to join forces. Within an hour we were at the base of a big hill and began to climb the 575 steps to the top. There was a small, white building at the top surrounded by a fantastic view of this land intended for giants. Many monkeys were running around, climbing wires, scurrying over the rock faces...very fun to watch. One of the temple sadus (holy men) fed some of them some white bread followed by bananas. Julia was brave enough to feed them the odd piece of bread. In general they were fairly well behaved but one or two of the bigger ones would occasionally try to assert their dominance.

The entrance to the Monkey Temple:

Halfway up the hill:

How many more stairs to go?

The namesake of the place:

Good bananas:

Julia feeding the monkeys:

A cute monkey family:

Inside the little temple there were four rooms, all colourfully decorated. In one room there was a sadu chanting as he banged a drum while in another, tiny box of a room, a younger man just sat their cross legged, staring at the wall.

Remi inside the temple:

Writing on the side of the temple:

The view from the top:

Nice staircase:

We descended the many steps and decided it was time for a super late lunch...late enough that when we had finished we just had enough time to capture the sunset part way up a rocky hill. We met up later for a bit of dinner and a drink and wouldn’t you know it, the guy sitting at the table next to me attended the same university as me for engineering as well...albeit about 10 years after I was there. I bid adieu to Remi and Julia and will perhaps meet up with them back in Goa next week.

Just after sunset:

At dinner: