Sunday, December 31, 2006

Hampi New Year

It's been go-go-go for me over the last few days (not in the Soi Cowboy sense). One day a-piece in small dusty bazaar towns, and we're talking about the real frontier, places the Lonely Planet doesn't even mention. If you whip out that atlas of India I'm sure you have tucked away in your attic, look for the following towns in order: Tiruvanamalai, Vellore, Tirupathi/Tirumala, Cudapa, and now Balani. Three states in which three different languages are spoken. That's India.
If there's one thing about travel I despise, it's the traveling. I mean the real down-and-dirty kind. The absolutely psychotic bus drivers screaming down the wrong lane, narrowly avoiding 100 km/hr head on-collisions. But I seem to be the only one gripping the hand railing so hard my hand bleeds, so maybe these busses are equipped with some sort of bat-mobile technology that makes the bus jump up 20 feet on rolling stilts, allowing the oncoming bus to pass safely beneath.
These little random towns are beginning to mash together in my memory, inseperable from one another, and all sharing the same basic elements: Horns, exhaust, of course chai, garbage, stunning temples.
I'll have more for you after the new year, when my head is clear and I'll be quietly resting near the Krishna river in Hampi.

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