Amehdabad, and it's good

Départ de Aurangabad le lundi 16 au soir après avoir vu le Taj du pauvre dans l'aprem. Nous avons une cabine dans un bus, une place sleeper. Sleep veut dire dormir, et je ne crois pas que le bon nom a été donné à cette classe dans un bus indien, ils auraient dû l'appeler crêpe sautée ou bed jump. On a passé la nuit à faire des bons de 20cm, à chaque ralentisseur. Le chauffeur était TRES mauvais et le bus sans suspensions et on avait la dernière cabine tout à l'arrière du bus. Que du bonheur! Quelle nuit!

Quel soulagement d'arriver à Ahmedabad! Surtout que les 9 jours qui ont suivi ont été absolument géniaux. Thanks Ashir, again and again, even if you don't want me to say it cause we spent a very relaxing time with you and your family. Après 4 mois de voyage, se poser dans une famille et ne rien avoir à penser nous a fait le plus grand bien! Nous avons été promené un peu partout et n'avons jamais réussi à dépenser un peso en leur compagnie.

Un soir, nous sommes allés à un spectacle son et lumière à l'Akshardham (çà vaut le coup d'aller voir des photos sur le net) à Gandhinagar, capitale du Gujarat. Ce temple appartient au riche groupe Hindu, les Swaminarayan. Magnifique temple et de très belles statues de marbre, riche donc, mais photos interdites comme dans beaucoup de temples. La seule est celle de Ayaan, le fils d'Ashir, sur le parking.

Plusieurs pans ont élu domicile dans les arbres de la propriété familiale où vivent les parents d'Ashir, son frère et sa femme et leurs 2 enfants ainsi qu'Ashir et sa femme et leur fils. Le modèle familial indien, tout le monde ensemble. Nous en sommes bien loin maintenant en Europe. Es-ce un bien, un mal, nous n'avons pas la réponse.

Dimanche, Ashir nous emmène dans le complexe de 110 petites maisons qu'il construit avec son frère, étant promoteur-constructeur. Un lac, un beau club house avec salle de ciné, salle de jeux, salons et piscine. Bien sympa! Les gens achètent pour venir y passer le week-end en famille, à 30min seulement du coeur bruyant et poussiéreux d'Ahmedabad. La maison des Choksi est juste à la bordure et est entourée de nature, ce qui est très reposant.

Ellora, Daulatabad, Aurangabad

Dimanche 15 Janvier, nous partons de bonne heure pour Ellora caves, un superbe site de vieux temples Jaïns, Hindous et Bouddhistes dans l'ordre chronologique ou presque, creusé directement dans la roche d'une colline au nord d'Aurangabad. 

A notre arrivée, difficile de poser seul devant la statue juste à l'entrée du plus grand temple, un flux de touriste impressionnant. Le guide de ce couple nous a invité de manière musclée à nous pousser car notre photo prenait trop de temps. Vexé par ces mauvaises manières, je me suis assis juste devant eux pour les embêter car l'anglais m'avait dit de laisser tomber froidement quand je m'étais rebellé la première fois. Juste pour leur montrer que le monde ne leur appartient pas.:)

Après cette entrée un peu spéciale, découverte de ce temple Kailasa, qui a été taillé dans la roche, depuis tout en haut dans un énorme bout de roche, les photos sont plus parlantes que les mots. En gros 200 000 tonnes de roche déblayée et taillée et le tour en 760 AD.

Goodbye Mumbai, Hello Ellora

Our last day in Mumbai could have been spent seeing more monuments and buildings or going to museums, but we were too tired of the tourist trail...

So we had lunch at Sher-E-Punjab instead, recommended by a Swiss guy we met on the train. This was when we discovered that the most famous Indian food are from Punjab. Butter Masala, naan, chicken tikka - you name it. So it wasn't hard to pick, and anyway, everything we ordered was good.

We wandered around the back streets and discovered more about every day life in Mumbai than a guidebook could tell us.

Mosque.

We also passed by a popular electronics store in Horniman Circle to replace the extension cord we got in Alleppey, the one that keeps on shooting sparks when we plug in the chargers. (We asked the vendor in Alleppey if it was made in China and he proudly said it was made in India. Not sure what to make of that...)

Bombay, visite touristique: Gateway of India, Hotel Taj et Elephanta Island

Jeudi 12 Janvier, après avoir marché dans le centre de Bombay la veille, nous partons faire les points les plus touristiques, là où tout touriste venant à Bombay se doit de passer. Le ciel est bleu, la journée promet d'être belle. Marche en direction du sud et les yeux en l'air, comme ces touristes visitant Paris. On a souvent tendance à oublier de regarder les bâtiments quand on habite un endroit, et ceux qui lèvent la tête ont une grande chance d'être de passage...

Jolie place avec bâtiment en rond, comme on pourrait voir à Londres. Ici au coin la boutique Hermes.

Passant devant et n'ayant pas encore petit-dejeuné, impossible de ne pas s'arrêter dans cette boulangerie belge appelée "Le Pain Quotidien" et qui a très bien compris le business à faire avec ces petits pains et croissants à la française, des prix hallucinants pour l'Inde! En même temps on est juste en face de l'Hotel Taj, avec toutes les boutiques de luxe aux alentours... c'est un peu notre Champs Elysées...

Rrrrrrrrrrrrr! Baguette!!!!!!!!!

Et voilà la traditionnelle et incontournable pose devant le Taj. Des dizaines (centaines?) de photographes avec petite imprimante sur batterie posée dans un coin se ruent pour prendre les touristes en photo, et à chaque fois nous leur montrons notre appareil... car ils ont tous le même. :)

Hello, Mumbai

We took the 8am bus from Arambol to Pernem and we arrived an hour before the train. We had breakfast at the train station and there was just one couple with a snack shop selling food in the area. The man sold us the best bhaji we had in Goa, and it was only 20 rupees with bread included!

We arrived in Mumbai at 9:30 in the evening. Looking for a place to stay was a nightmare, especially since some dodgy characters prowl the streets telling us all the places are full. There was, in particular, a pesky old guy sporting a walrus moustache in a butler uniform who would not leave us alone.

Another reason it was so hard to find a place in Mumbai was the ridiculous prices. One hotel in front of Victoria Terminus gave us a discount which we noticed they didn't give anyone else... was our mojo working again? Well, once you see the room you might not think so, but in our defense, this is the best 1,100 Rs can buy in Mumbai...

It's a mouse hole! But it had TV, airconditioning, butler service, and towels. We just had to share the bathroom with Punjabi businessmen staying overnight and endure someone with a sinus problem. Otherwise, it was paradise. If i stretch my arms and legs, I could reach both ends of the room. There was no room for our bags so we stepped over them and had to move them over every time we had to open the door... Otherwise, it's paradise. For the same price we had a "football stadium" in Kolkata.

The Northern Beaches (and the Theft of Nicely-Broken-In Birkenstocks)

On our last full day with the Royal Enfield, we went to Mandrem and Morjim to check out the other beaches.

Mandrem was such a big contrast from Arambol. It is quiet, there was just one souvenir stall and there were very few beach huts. They are a tad more expensive, but these were made in better taste and looked more secure that the ones we were shown in Arambol. 

The wind was really strong that day, and where there were no little ponds and creeks, the sand would fly  so we had a beach sandstorm.

There was a big sandbar and lots of puddles and creeks on the wide, grey beach. The wind made ripples on the water.

It was so quiet and relaxing the people would doze off on the sand.

It's so cheesy! A Hallmark Card moment we couldn't resist :)

Take a good look at one of the posts on this hut... it's alive!

Henri and the Royal Enfield that burned him and put a hole in his shorts... but he still loves it.

Gone, Going, Goa on an Enfield

We had a lot of ground to cover, all the historic sights on the northern beaches up til sunset, and check our Goan nightlife to-do list all in one day.

First was the old Portuguese fort in Vagator...

With stunning views of Vagator Beach and the forest nearby.

This used to be one of the secret locations of Vagator's notorious rave parties.

Now it's under constant surveilance by the police, and the parties have shifted... someplace else.

Then we went to Anjuna, hippie headquarters since the 70s.

Let's Goa (F*cking dead monkey and the remains of a saint)

Going from Hampi to Goa was perhaps the hardest, most hard core trip we ever did. The sleeper bus to Goa  usually goes for 600 rs, but to be a tyrant, the lone bus operator sells the tickets for 700 just for the season. The tourist agent in French Travels was a nice old man who tried to book us on the sleeper bus that day; but we were not keen on taking it because it's too expensive (the reviews on Trip Advisor were bad too) and besides, there were no seats left. So instead, he gave us advice on how to go to Goa by taking local buses and how to chill out while doing it. He told us a story when he missed the sleeper and he lost his wallet but got home anyway. He's so cool! If you are ever in Virupapur Gaddi, seek his advice, he'll give you an honest opinion.

So, at 1pm we rode the ferry from Virupapur Gaddi to Hampi (where a punk girl told us to go to Arambol in Goa) then took a bus to Hospet (where a saddhu farmer who spoke good english gave us advice on train possibilities)... 

From there we took the long bus ride to Hubli (there was a big traffic jam, but the view at sunset of the dam was spectacular; then Henri saw a dead monkey... he tells the story best in person, so if you ever see us, DEMAND that he tells the story of the "f*cking dead monkey on the chair." He told his mom the story and she thought he was high - it's THAT weird)...

In Hubli, we had dinner at the place recommended by the old gentleman at French Travels, a place with a hyper waiter, good food, and chilled beer...

We were there from 10 till 12, then took a bus to Panaji in Goa. The road was as bad as we heard, we slipped and slid from our seats and Henri and I kept changing positions because the bus was trying to murder us... our one consolation was, at least we were not in sleeper beds. At 5 in the morning, we took another bus to Mapusa, which was the place where we could get a bus to Arambol at the northern tip of Goa.

It was great to see Goa at sunrise from the bus. We were hungry but for a moment, all that was forgotten. It's as green as Kerala, and as clean. We felt like we were out of India again.

We found a place to stay at 8am, slept for a long time to make up for the torture we endured for 16 hours. But guess how much the trip cost us? 491 Rs for two persons versus 1,400 Rs if we took the sleeper bus. The Israeli guy Henri made friends with in Goa found out we were doing the local bus circuit and he was impressed that we didn't do it the spoiled brat way... but he had no idea how heroic it really was :)

So here we are at last at Arambol beach, time to reward ourselves with cocktails on the beach, international cuisine, and long walks without anybody asking where we are from and what we are doing in India. Freedom!

Hampi Ruins (where toilet violence ends with a visit to the police)

Henri promised he will write the post for this one... while we're waiting, enjoy the pictures! It was a nice, cloud-free day!

Bon, comme Marj me met à défaut, je vais exécuter ce que la mère fouettard me tanne de faire et écrire ce post, comme si il fallait me forcer... non mais! C'est juste une question de trouver le bon moment. Et quand elle me demande à minuit et que je suis presque endormi ou le matin avant le petit-dej, je répond non à chaque fois, mais je pense que c'est normal. (Henri Dumont, that is NOT true and YOU KNOW IT!!! - marj) Voilà, comptes réglés. Bref...

Donc, ce jour de visite des ruines de Hampi commence vers 10h au lieu de 8h, mais comme chaque jour à Hampi, nous avons du mal à nous réveiller tôt, pris par la fatigue des jours (ou semaines) précédents. Nous voilà partis sur la mobylette pour le village d'à côté, Anegundi, seul endroit où il y a eu un pont fût un temps qui a été détruit soit disant par l'UNESCO qui veut éviter le développement commercial dans un rayon de 5km autour de leurs sites classés. On veut bien, mais cela fait un bon business pour les gens responsables du bateau faisant la traversée de la rivière... 20Rs par personne + 20Rs pour un 2 roues. En tout, ils mettent 6 motos sur le bateau + 10 à 15 personnes, pas très rassurant mais la traversée est courte. De l'autre côté se trouvent tous les sites à visiter.

Le premier site est Vitthala Temple, le mieux conservé de tous avec une grande allée entourée de colonnes pour y parvenir. On a l'impression d'être dans la Rome Antique.

Sur les 2km séparant le parking obligatoire et le temple, quelques petits temples et ce réservoir d'eau ayant servit aux offrandes = Ghat = comme à Varanasi et comme à chaque endroit où il y a un bord de rivière ou un point d'eau.

Après 20 ou 30min de marche (2 ou 3km), et en plein soleil sous une chaleur accablante, nous arrivons enfin au temple. Le ciel est bleu pur, pas un nuage!

Ce temple a de belles sculptures bien conservées, en voilà une au dessus de l'entrée principale.

Mais l'intérêt principal de ce temple se trouve juste derrière la porte principale, il s'agit d'un chariot en pierre!

Hampi New Year

Had the worst bus ride so far, there were things biting me in the back and I didn't know if they were mosquitoes or bed bugs :( 

From Mysore we went to Hospet, the main junction going to Hampi. We arrived at 6:45am and the bus going to the old city arrived at 7am. My jaw dropped as we entered Hampi; bright yellow rays of the sun brought to life the grand but crumbling arched gateway as rickshaw drivers scrambled to get to our bus first. We saw the tops of old temples and markets, while gypsies lined the road with jewelry, figurines and souvenir t-shirts.

The guest houses had raised prices to exorbitant amounts so Henri went to the opposite side of the river, to Virupapur Gaddi, where backpackers have created a vibrant new city with beach huts and lounge restaurants.

Lakshmi the holy elephant takes her morning bath.

There is no bridge between Hampi and Virupapur Gaddi allegedly because Unesco had the bridge destroyed to limit the progress coming from tourism and therefore preserve the ruins... but that's bullshit because people with cars and bikes can go to Virupapur Gaddi from Hospet and pollute the ruins on the way here. They can't even build a foot bridge for backpackers who are not the source of pollution? We think it's to make money because there are two motor ferries that charge 15 and 20 rupees to take people and motorbikes across the river. Heck, they even charge bags! People are making a lot of money out of this inconveniece, and nobody's saying a word.

While Henri searched for a place to stay, I stayed in Hampi with the bags. I had made friends with the young gypsy girls and they gave me white kakra flowers to adorn my hair. They introduced their groovy grandparents who were selling lamani (gypsy) wares on the street.