Indians drive buses like bandits. It can be frightening, particularly when scenes of fresh wreckage are readily visible, as they were the other day. I’ve gotten to be remarkably level headed with these 20+ hour bus journeys. Hopefully someday I’ll put to good use the patience that traveling in the developing world demands of you.
My tour in South India has been spontaneous. All my home stays have been referrals, and all my destinations have been recommended by folks I’ve met along the way. It’s a fun way to travel, but foregoing research is a bit like rolling the dice. Missing Hampi, for instance, would have been a terrible mistake. Take the landscape of Joshua Tree National Park in California, and insert World Heritage archaeological ruins, and you have Hampi. It’s truly spectacular, and during odd hours you’ll have the whole place to yourself. Being due east of Goa, however, Hampi gets a spillover of drunk, stoned hippies - a demographic I don't appreciate. But like I said earlier, I’ve come to a certain peace about it, and I’m not quite stubborn enough to cut off my nose to spite my face.
Few activities enthuse Indians like bathing in a stagnant waterway. This morning I sat and watched a large Rajasthani family going at it. They were a long way from home. The old hens were quite a sight, splashing around in swarms of boobs and wet colors. Female modesty in India is a real hoot. They veil up and shield their shoulders, but little do they realize what they give away with exposed stomachs – a far sexier body part than the shoulder.
My tour in South India has been spontaneous. All my home stays have been referrals, and all my destinations have been recommended by folks I’ve met along the way. It’s a fun way to travel, but foregoing research is a bit like rolling the dice. Missing Hampi, for instance, would have been a terrible mistake. Take the landscape of Joshua Tree National Park in California, and insert World Heritage archaeological ruins, and you have Hampi. It’s truly spectacular, and during odd hours you’ll have the whole place to yourself. Being due east of Goa, however, Hampi gets a spillover of drunk, stoned hippies - a demographic I don't appreciate. But like I said earlier, I’ve come to a certain peace about it, and I’m not quite stubborn enough to cut off my nose to spite my face.
Few activities enthuse Indians like bathing in a stagnant waterway. This morning I sat and watched a large Rajasthani family going at it. They were a long way from home. The old hens were quite a sight, splashing around in swarms of boobs and wet colors. Female modesty in India is a real hoot. They veil up and shield their shoulders, but little do they realize what they give away with exposed stomachs – a far sexier body part than the shoulder.
