Karnataka Tour

Thursday, April 8

We flew to Bangalore after work. Funny enough, the flight from Chennai was shorter (30 minutes) than the journey from the airport to the hotel (more than an hour) as traffic was horrendous. Apparently, traffic is worse there, due to the greater number of cars, despite wider and one-way roads. Gajendra, our driver, was waiting for us at the airport: he had dropped us at work in the morning, then proceeded to Bangalore at his own pace, with our suitcases and supplies for our ten-day expedition.

We stayed at the Park Sheraton hotel, a beautiful building, colonial style, which we recommend. I particularly liked the room decoration: it was modern (but not too much), practical and very comfortable, of course, and had a great deal of Indian charm. The use of colorful Indian raw silk (curtains, drape above the bed's headboard, cushions) was particularly shrewd and stunning. It looked lovely. After a delicious Chinese meal, we went back to our room for an early night. Tomorrow would come extremely early…

Friday, April 9

Indeed. Wake-up call: 5:30am. It was unfortunately a very poor night for me: I did not sleep a wink (not a good start!). We are away, out of the office, but work still haunts me. C'est la vie! I will have to catch up later.

After a very quick breakfast and a long session at the hotel reception to settle our bill (our exemption from sales and luxury taxes never fails to cause much questioning, puzzlement and delay), we finally managed to leave, a little bit before 7.

On our way out of Bangalore, we saw again some of the landmarks we had discovered a few weeks ago during our first visit to the city. But we also saw its darker side: the poor and insalubrious outskirts, the deprived, homeless and left out, living (or surviving rather) in the middle of mountains of trash. The contrast could not be greater with Bangalore, capital of the IT industry, often nicknamed South Asia's Silicon Valley. It is the 5th largest and fastest growing city in India right now.

Once out of Bangalore, we drove through many small towns and villages. Channapatna stood out as it is renowned for its wooden toys: we saw many rocking animals (horses, giraffes, lions) and various characters that looked colorful and were probably worth buying. But since we do not have kids, we did not indulge. Madour looked like a nicely organized little town, with nice roads, attractive parks, well tended gardens, colorful buildings and stalls of all kinds lining the streets. Mandya was even better, due to the revenue obtained from cane sugar, rice, coconuts, and its most significant factor for wealth: water.

Our first stop was Srirangapatnam (or Srirangapattana), an island fortress on the river Cauvery (or Kaveri), the site of historical battles between the British and Tipu Sultan, the "Tiger of Mysore". We visited the following:

Sriranganathaswamy Temple: renowned for its statue of a reclining Vishnu and its numerous shrines. The main gopura was also particularly impressive. As we came out, we were followed by a little girl who wanted ice cream. There were many beggars (either very young or very old), many persistent salesmen (with tacky souvenirs for tourists), and numerous stalls around the temple and on each side of the lane leading to its main entrance. The tourist season is over and times are hard as there must be very few foreigners around. We can expect a great deal of harassment wherever we go.

Chad took pity and caved in: he bought the ice cream. The little girl quickly disappeared, but not for long. She hid the ice cream in her skirts, came back (and not alone this time) and asked for more… In the meantime, I enjoyed trying to catch (on camera only) a few black pigs eating coconut shells.

After the temple, we drove to one of the water gates, where we saw what is left of the Kaveri river these days. The surrounding vegetation is still impressive, but the river is undoubtedly only a shadow of what it used to be. Not far away was Colonel Bailey's Dungeon, whose darker past is now partially covered with graffiti, and where there no longer was much to see. We drove past the exact spot where Tipu Sultan was killed during his last battle against the British. We did not linger, we would visit his tomb later, which would be far more interesting than a small stone commemorating where he fell exactly.

We completed the tour of the are with a visit of the mosque, Jami Masjid, erected by Tipu Sultan. Surprisingly, we were allowed to go inside and take a look. A small number of children were being told stories or taught lessons by a mullah. Others were washing, and three kids followed us around, insisting on being photographed. We did not enter the building however, and only walked around.

We left Srirangapatnam's central area to find the Daria Daulat Bagh, Tipu Sultan's summer palace. It stands in the middle of beautiful grounds and gardens. It is pretty small and structurally very simple. However, it is particularly striking due to the numerous murals narrating historical battles and offering numerous facets of Tipu Sultan's life. I personally enjoyed the old etchings on the region and its landmarks, and also the pencil portraits of Tipu Sultan himself, of his relatives, and close court dignitaries. The carved woodwork, painted floral designs, old maps, paintings and Tipu memorabilia were all worth seeing.

We found Gumbaz - the tombs of Tipu Sultan and Haidar Ali, his father - not far from the palace. Also built in the middle of beautiful gardens and the countryside, this mausoleum reminded me of the Taj Mahal, due to a similar architectural layout, but on a much smaller scale, of course. The tiger motif, favored by Tipu, and the ebony and ivory doors make the building unique and special.

We got back into the car and drove for looked liked an eternity on an extremely poor road, in the middle of nowhere.

The Indian countryside never fails to amaze me: some place are so isolated that they must be worlds of their own. Although what we have seen of Karnataka so far would indicate that the state and its population are better off than in Tamil Nadu, I always wonder how all the farmers and rural people can survive and prosper in the harsh and demanding agricultural world. But it seems the climate is better here. There is also more water, and the lands seem more fertile: many crops, trees, rice patties, coconut groves, sugar cane, and animals (goats, sheep, cows). Most people have small homes rather than huts (a good sign), working animals, and even machinery.

Still, I cannot imagine how tough life is for the local people: washing the clothes in the river or streams, beating the laundry clean with soap, making furrows with two bullocks and a rudimentary ploughshare, carrying kilos of wood, coconut branches, sugar cane or water on the head, walking for miles on end to find a village or a bus stop, harvesting in the heat…

We finally found our way to Somnathpur, after an unwanted detour (we got lost), a small place famous for its Keshava Temple. It is one of the finest representations of Hoysala architecture. God knows that we have seen so many temples since we have been in India that we have lost count, but that one took our breath away. First of all, it was in perfect condition, a rarity. The towers were complete, and the carvings on the stone were absolutely exquisite. We had never seen anything like it. Built in the 13th century, it has not suffered in any way from the passing of time or the erosion the climate could have encouraged. It is an extraordinary tribute to the architects, stone carvers and all the people who helped to produce it.

The temple is composed of three star-shaped granite shrines, built around a pillared hall. All the walls outside and inside are profusely carved with animal and floral patterns, and images of deities. The ceilings are splendidly decorated with flowers and characters. Each shrine holds a different god or divine representation: Krishna playing the flute, Jarnadarna (another incarnation of Vishnu) and another image of Krishna.

We thoroughly enjoyed the visit. We were also lucky: we arrived at the temple before the mid-day power cuts which would have prevented us from going inside the temple and shrines, and before the sun made the stones unbearably hot for our delicate feet unused to walking barefoot.

We arrived in Mysore, at our hotel, just before 14h30, right on time for Chad's meeting with a few Americans and Americans of Indian origin who live and work in the city. We had hoped to arrive in town earlier but lost time along the way when we got lost. So our lunch went out of the window, and we only managed to have it after the meeting, at 15h45. We were starving and ravenous by then. Of course, the restaurant was closed at the time and only Indian vegetarian snacks were available, but that did not matter. We could have eaten anything, and the food was lovely, actually.

We had planned to start our visit of Mysore that afternoon, but we ran out of time. We got ready and left the hotel to go to an engineering college where Chad was going to meet students, university officials and give a lecture.

We met the university's key staff members, talked about the campus, the programs and degrees offered, and the students. A journalist from the Mysore Star also asked Chad a few questions. Then we went to the auditorium, which filled quickly and where Chad gave his lecture. It went really well: he is a good orator, and managed to inform the audience without boring anybody. He was clear, eloquent, concise, humorous, and very accessible. The Q&A session was particularly successful and animated.

Before we could retire to our quarters, we stopped at Dr. Mahesh Rao's office. He was Chad's contact, and the organizer behind this lecture and visit to the university. He gave us a tour of his company and showed us the products he designs and sells. He displayed several "thingies" with chips and we don't know what - stuff you would find inside a computer, a radio, high tech equipment, and that we have absolutely no clue about. Dr. Rao spent nearly twenty years in the USA working for Intel and started his own company when he got back to India, a few years back. He is doing very well for himself. We finally went back to the hotel, enjoyed an appetizing vegetarian meal, and crashed in bed after such a long and eventful day.

Saturday, April 10

The day started with breakfast at Dr. Rao's home, with a few American friends of his and his family. He was very proud to show us his huge and beautiful house on a hill, near a recently built temple, with a lovely view. We met his wife and adopted baby daughter, and chatted over a western breakfast, after we completed the tour of the businessman's mansion.

We left as soon as we politely could, and went straight to the magnificent Amba Vilas Palace, owned by the Maharaja of Mysore, designed by Henry Irving (1897) and built by the Wodeyar rulers in 1902 to replace an earlier structure destroyed by a fire. Photography was prohibited inside, which prevented us from keeping a record of its amazing treasures: pieces of furniture, countless portraits, stained glass ceilings, richly decorated rooms and halls, a spacious seating gallery overlooking some of the grounds, beautifully tiled or marble floors, and lavish interiors. A fairy-tale kind of place, in a word. We also visited the museum and a few of the temples built on the grounds (there are twelve in total and we could not see them all).

Then we went up the mountain to reach Chamundi Hill. It is a sacred hill. The Chamundeshvari Temple is located at the top and is special because of its beautifully decorated idol of Chamundeshvari, the family deity of the Wodeyar kings. We paid a special entrance fee (an unusual procedure) which allowed us to go as close to the inner sanctum as possible to see the idol. It was fully packed with crowds of devotees. One of the priests gave us an offering (one flower each). A few minutes later, as we were walking around the inner sanctum, another priest at a smaller shrine saw our flowers and called us. He did a special pooja for us, and we are blessed now. We received the red mark on our foreheads, the eye of wisdom and knowledge. Of course, we had to make a donation for the priest's services (was the flower a trick?), and left after our short religious experience of Hinduism.

We went down the hill and stopped to admire a gigantic Nandi (the bull is the vehicle of Shiva) monolith, dating from the 17th century and carved out of one single granite boulder. It was 7.5 m long and 5 m high. The priest at the Bull Temple in Bangalore had told us that the Nandi there was the biggest in the region, but this crouching bull looked bigger to me. An object of worship, it is adorned with garlands of flowers, receives offerings, and is black with gee. Monkeys roam freely around the bull, drinking at a water tap, stealing small pieces of sugar cane or fruit from one of the stalls, and looking for food in cars whose windows have been left open. I managed to capture a few on film.

We had lunch at the Lalitha Mahal Palace, an amazing place built in 1930. Formerly a private royal guest house, it is now a superb hotel. The manager gave us a grand tour, and was proud to show us several exceptional suites (up to $750 a night). If you wish to live like a Maharaja for a night, it is the place to choose. As we walked around, we bumped into a crew shooting a commercial Kanada film (the local language) but there were no stars around: only dancing scenes on the program that day. We saw a dozen of the female dancers in their costumes: they were all very young looking, had great smiles, and were stunning creatures.

The restaurant served lunch to a good number of foreigners. Sadly, they did not reflect the grandeur or charm of the place. They were probably on a tour, and all of them, without exception, looked awful. I will never understand why foreigners have to let themselves go so badly once they get to India: dirty hair, wrinkled clothes as if they had slept in them, dirty feet, and inappropriate garments. What a disgrace.

We stopped at Saint Philomena's Cathedral before leaving Mysore. It was empty but preparations were under way for the Easter celebrations. About one thousand families belong to that congregation, we were told.

We left Mysore and were back in the countryside very quickly, for hours. We eventually reached Sravanabelgola, a small town located between two granite hills (Indragiri and Chandragiri). It holds the most significant Jain site in South India. One can see the colossal high monolithic statue of Gommateshvara (17.7 m) after a long and exhausting climb (143 m, more than 700 steps carved in the stone) up the Indragiri hill, and barefoot!

The statue of the naked savior was very impressive: it stands in an ant hill, and he stares impassively ahead. Creepers are carved on his arms and legs to reflect the length of time he stood motionless in meditation. An inscription reveals that the statue was consecrated in 981 AD, and yet it looks as though it was carved only yesterday.

After a short rest (my legs were wobbly), we went back down the hill, slowly and carefully. One old lady was carried down by four skinny but strong porters, at an amazing speed. They had offered the same service to me, but I declined. Perhaps when I am 80. We did take a picture though, for fun.

Chad and I then took a walk around town. We attracted a fair amount of attention and curiosity, and consequently assumed that few foreigners do that. Chad played badminton with two sisters who greatly enjoyed being challenged. I nearly stroked and played with the dog who had started following us as soon as we gotten out of the car, and stayed with us until Chad's supply of cookies was exhausted. It must have been famished. It was a cute black and white doggy, which seemed affectionate, kind and craving for tender loving care. Shame we could not take him with us.

After our walk, we resume our journey and drove to Hassan, which we found just after the sun set. The streets were flooded as it had just rained a great deal. It cooled the air a bit, and made it more pleasant. We found our hotel without too much trouble and enjoyed a lovely meal despite the fact that more than half the items on the menu were not available. We retired early: no tv due to power cuts, and too tired to read!

Sunday, April 11

As there was nothing special to see in Hassan, we headed for Belur. There, we visited the Chennakeshvara Temple. Dating from the 12th century, it is famous for its architecture and its gopura, which marks the entrance of the temple. There was a wedding procession on its way. The spacious courtyard accommodates many shrines and colonnades. The main temple (a simple star-shaped sanctuary) is in the middle. The entire structure is covered with richly textured carvings (characters, foliage, elephants, aquatic monsters, deities, etc). Female dancers, musicians and huntresses are also visible. There were, unfortunately, too many figures to photograph. An entire book of photos would be necessary to cover the entire temple.

We then drove to Halebid, a short distance away. We visited the Hoysaleshvara Temple (from the same period) which is sadly incomplete, as it was never finished. Surprisingly, it had two symmetrical pavilions with nandis. The main part of the temple did not contain idols but two identical linga and the shrines opened onto a columned hall. The outside walls were beautifully carved (the ceilings inside too) and I particularly liked the mix of naturalistic but also fanciful animals and creatures. There were also scenes from the Ramayana and Mahabharata, and stories about deities. The gardens around the temple were very pleasant, and I noticed the large number of ibiscus trees (a kind I had never seen before).

Back in the car, direction Chitradurga. We had lunch first when we reached the city. We were all hungry and thought it wise to take some nourishment before another climbing adventure. We stopped at Aishwarya Fort, a lovely food court dedicated to the Bollywood actress Aishwarya Rai, the most beautiful woman in India, in my opinion. We had a delicious meal and our driver joined us, which helped to order our food. Foreigners are scarce here too. Then we drove to the base of a rugged hill, with the fort high above us. Located above the town, it was built amongst huge granite blocks and boulders, and took full advantage of the natural set up. After many steps and a series of gates, we reached a flat level, where we found a small cave temple carved into the rock. As we continued our climb, a pattern emerged: irregular inner zones, strewn with striking boulders, with one temple or more, then more steps up, another gate, then another inner flatish zone with more temples and pavilions. We did not go to the very last level. Not that we ran out of steam, but it was too far away, and we could not spare that much time. We admired the view of Chitradurga from the hill: the man-made and nature-produced structures, the town at the very bottom and on the opposite hills, massive wind-mills. We reflected on this complete contrast between the remains of a past empire and the British presence and 21st century India.

The fort is obviously a popular place, despite the climb, for family picnics and young people flirting and courting. The "look, foreigners!" indicated that yet again, few tourists come this way. Well, we are glad we made it. It was definitely worth the effort.

Back in the car, direction Hampi. We will spend the next two nights in Hospet, as there is much to see in the area, so it will be our base to facilitate the exploration of all the sites. The last drive of the day was particularly slow and painful due to the huge number of trucks and buses traveling too. And as daylight fades, roads become more and more dangerous: no lighting, people unexpectedly crossing the roads, animals unsure about what to do, and people driving far too fast with their strongest blinding lights. A nightmare! Luckily, we made it to Hospet before nightfall and Gajendra found the hotel without delay, despite the lack of signalization, the crowds on the streets and the apparent chaos.

We found Hospet surprisingly busy. It guess it is a town where tourists and all kinds of business and activities converge. The hundreds, if not thousands, of truckers must bring in a lot of money to spend locally, in addition to goods and business opportunities. Commerce certainly seems to be booming. Although there is nothing to do and see in Hospet, it is at a junction and that is what must enable the town not only to survive but also to prosper.

More thoughts… As we crossed village after village, town after town, I could not help looking at the mountains of trash and dung all over the place. Not that I expect the countryside to have trash collectors and big trucks but it is with dismay and horror that I observe again and again the mix of humans and animals in the middle of such filth. As for ponds and various kinds of water holes, God only knows what they contain. If only trash could be collected and dumped inn one single place instead of all over, a major life and health improvement would be achieved. Plastic is the most guilty culprit: it is everywhere, and remains there. I can only imagine what its indestructible and overwhelming presence will do to the environment and the water supply in the long term. Also, if only animals were watched, so that they do not contaminate the water with their feces and dirt. I kept on wondering about the mortality rate in this part of the world and throughout India, and the incidences of malaria, typhoid, hepatitis, dysentery, amoebas, and diarrhea, among other things. And where do people get treated? Are there enough qualified doctors in these isolated parts and tiny villages? Or do people have to rely on witch-doctors and wise men and women? What about basic hygiene education? I cannot imagine how much work still needs to be done in this country to improve people's health, longevity and quality of life.

What about education and schools? We saw many kids working in the fields, stalls, shops, etc. What about their future? Child labor remains a reality and undoubtedly a vast problem and issue to address in India.

Final thought: I always wonder how so many men can afford to be so idle and do nothing on the road side. Indeed, they line the streets of villages and small towns, chatting, smoking, eating snacks, being very affectionate with each other (how far that goes, who knows…?), reading the paper, or very simply watching cars go by. Are the women and kids the only ones working hard while the men are chilling out? Or are there proportionally many more men than women, due to the Indian traditional preference for the male sex? No wonder unemployment is so high. All these men never seem to do much. Unless they are "rich" enough not to have to work and can let others do the work. Who knows?

Monday, April 12

We spent the night in an Indian hotel with a fair amount of westerners (we did not expect to see so many outside the tourist season) and had a full inspection of the room, to make sure it was mosquito-free. We must have been the best equipped foreigners in that hotel: mosquito cream, mosquito spray, mosquito plug, and mosquito zapper (a small tiny racket, battery-operated, which electrocutes every mosquito coming its way - an absolutely brilliant invention). It does not hurt to be prepared and take precautions.

Our day started at 8 in the morning. Hampi is only four km away from Hospet, and we quickly reached the first vestige. Hampi (also known as Vijayanagar, the City of Victory) is a Unesco World Heritage site located on the south bank of the Tungabhadra river. The capital of three generations of Hindu rulers for more than two hundred years, it is built in a unique environment. The architecture takes full advantage of the rocky ridges, granite boulders and river.

We started with Sasivekalu Ganesha, a 2.4 m monolithic statue of the elephant god Ganesh, placed under a small pavilion. We went up the hill to visit several small shrines, then down towards the vast temple complex of Viruaksha. Surprisingly, we were not that impressed. Perhaps the post card and guidebook vendors and the "official" guides' harassment did not help. Nor did the dirt, the smells, and the priests insisting on practicing their Hindu rituals on us. Or, very simply: after so many extraordinary temples seen so far, this one did not cut the mustard.

We walked from the temple down the main road towards the hill opposite. Hampi the town must be the only world heritage site which shelters both restaurants and shops for tourists and slums at the same time. Not that we were shocked, we have seen slums all over India. What is shocking is that none of the revenue and benefits obtained from tourism clearly do not trickle down to the local population. The mix of filthy animals, laundry water, sewage, naked children and tired old women (no trash however, there were big yellow bins everywhere) was quite a sight. Heartbreaking, really.

We went up the hill, examined the Nandi and what is left of the Athyutaraya and Veerabhadra Temples. It was already getting hot. Down the hill and off to the river. We walked between, over and amongst boulders until we got to the water and got to two temples: Yantrodhara Anjaneya and Kodandarama. We observed obnoxious Italian tourists (they are staying in the same hotel, and we had seen them in Belur) taking pictures of Indian kids. At the temple there, they had pushed and shoved to take pictures of the pooja and Indian devotees. We stayed away from them . It is the kind of tourists who make me cringe. We were offered a river crossing in a coracle (a saucer-shaped small boat) but declined. However, unable to find a path to go further, we turned around and got back to the car.

The Krishna Temple was the next stop. No longer a place of worship, it has been left to fall apart and crumble. It is a shame, as there are many interesting statues, stone carvings and columns. Further down the road, in the middle of a banana grove, we found the Lakshmi Narasima Temple, a very small structure which shelters a 6.7 m half man, half lion, incarnation of Vishnu, with a sacred guardian snake. Although it was damaged, it looked stunning. Nearby stood the Badavilinga Temple, another small structure sheltering a 3 m Shiva Linga carved on a pedestal and with its base immerged in water. It was a quiet and peaceful place, with a little stream flowing, and shade from the sun. Sadly, more postcard vendors and stone carvers surrounding us hastened our departure.

We then visited the underground Shiva Temple. It was not really underground, but rather built lower than ground level. It was in very poor shape, and there was not much to see. Stagnant and filthy water (bulls and who knows what else roaming around), combined with the heat, made it quite unpleasant. And it was still getting hotter and hotter…

We then checked the Mohammadan Watch Tower (desecrated by graffiti and trash, sadly) and saw the ruins of a small mosque and Band Tower. Ruins were everywhere: not much attention must be given to that small enclosure which is off the beaten track and seems completely abandoned and left to decay.

The Zanana Enclosure was more interesting. The Lotus Mahal (a mix of Hindu and Islamic architecture) was charming and surrounded by a small but lovely garden. We particularly liked the Elephant Stables, an imposing structure with 11 chambers which once housed the royal elephants. The roof was impressive due to its numerous domes. We also liked the high ceilings, the arched doors and small passages connecting each stable to the next. Nearby stood a "museum", or rather a small building with an assortment of statues of deities, many of which we had already seen on countless occasions.

In the Royal Enclosure, we visited the Mahanavami Dibba, a building used for special ceremonies by kings. Not much of it was left, but its platform offered a nice view of the surrounding landscape and other structures not far away. One of these was the Queen's Bath, an open-air building which must have been fantastic in the past. Today it is empty and has lost some of its charm due to the destructive impact of graffiti. Still, I could easily imagine how much fun it must have been for the royals and their retinue to spend time there.

We chilled out for a while under the shade of a large tree. Our hotel had prepared a picnic for a group of tourists on a tour, so we chatted with the waiters while sipping some cool drinks. We talked about many things, but a few were hard to forget. One of the waiters declared he was still single but would marry his sister's daughter in the near future. I knew that Indians often marry their relatives to stay within the family, caste, or tribe, but to marry your niece / uncle seemed a bit too close for me. And what about the age difference? Besides, consanguinity can't be a good thing in the long run. There are already so many congenital diseases, disabilities and various hereditary defects being passed on, that it can't be a healthy option. Surely, in a country so over-populated, one should be able to find a mate, especially as the great majority of marriages, still today, are arranged.

Other disturbing subject of conversation: the elections and politics. Both waiters admitted that they would vote for the party which would give them the most money in the coming elections. That's what I call rigging the dice. They mentioned that they could get as much as Rs.500 each for their vote. The political agenda clearly does not matter. Rs.500: that is the price of democracy in India. What a scary thought.

We had a short lunch in a nearby hotel and chatter with a lovely British gentleman traveling on his own for a few months. We enjoyed his narration and the details of his adventures so far on Indian roads, or riding on Indian buses and trains. 28 hours on the bus from Chennai to Hampi! That's what I call bravery (or madness?). He is lucky to be alive and in one piece.

We drove for a while and reached the Vitthala Temple. For the first time in Hampi, we were both stunned by this grand monument and its intricately carved pillars. I particularly enjoyed the "yalis", a mythical leonine beast with bulgy eyes (and sometimes riders) which often ornates the outer pillars or corners. It is a cool creature. There were also several mandapas within the temple complex (columned halls) with beautiful carvings. We also noted that several guides kept on tapping lightly on a few columns: small and hollow, they produced lovely musical sounds. For the first time also, we found a splendid stone chariot, a shrine dedicated to Garuda. Sadly, parts of that superb temple were falling apart. A renovation project is evidently under way, as well as efforts to support the weakening walls and ceilings. All around the temple, excavations sites were visible. There must be more treasures and answers to unearth.

We walked for a while (the heat was unbearable by then) and went down to the river Tungabhadra. Families were having a picnic under a stone-columned building, kids were playing and getting soaked in the water, and old men were either washing or doing their laundry. In this beautiful landscape, the water looked very inviting and tempting for our tired, sore and swollen toes, but we managed to stay on the right path and go back up the hill, yet again.

We left that area and stopped a few times to take a few pictures: a stepped and empty tank (filled in the past thanks to a sophisticated hydraulic and irrigation system, apparently) and a few mandapas. We drove to another hill to visit the Malyavanta Raghunata Temple, perched really high and visible from far away. It was particularly impressive because it is carved directly into boulders. The inner sanctum and the shrine were completely unusual. There were also many priests around, based at the temple and a few on pilgrimage, we gathered. Two musicians were playing, while priests read, slept, washed, or stared at us. The stone carvings on the pillars were also impressive and contrasted with the ruined gopuras. Our last stop was the Ganigitti Jaina Temple, a Jain site under renovation. It was disappointing as there was very little to see and we could not go in.

I think we covered almost all of Hampi's temple treasures. Of course, there are so many other tiny buildings visible in the distance, far on the hills, out of reach, scattered among the boulders and banana or coconut groves. The site is undoubtedly too vast to be explored in one single day, and at this period of the year. But we gave Hampi our best shot and will return home with far too many pictures. Besides, after eight hours of climbing up and down, hiking, and exploring, we started to feel the tiredness in our feet and calves, and the exhaustion that the extreme heat causes.

Our overall impression of Hampi: it was not as amazing and gobsmacking as we had expected. Having said that, it is a stunning site due to its unusual location and natural surroundings. And while some temples are not as large and sophisticated as those we saw on previous trips or days, the sheer number of structures and the talent, creativity, and expertise of the architects, builders, stone-carvers and craftsmen must be admired. Indeed, one cannot fail to think of how long it took to erect all these buildings, and of their cost in terms of human lives. And, yet again, the site reflects the paramount place of Hinduism and its rituals in Indian life throughout time. What would people do without their gods, goddesses, and all these places of worship?

More thoughts: the road to access Hampi was utterly horrid. You would think that the reputation of the site and its historical and touristic significance would help to get a decent road that the locals could also benefit from. Who lines their pockets with all the visitors' money?

Our hotel: the only one worth considering in Hospet. So it is consequently used to tourists and foreigners in particular. Yet, we were amazed to see that the waiters in the restaurant (serving continental and Chinese cuisine mostly, in addition to Indian food) were totally unable to deal with the most basic orders or questions. The rooms were a mess (wallpaper pealing off, towels as old as the hills, plastic film over the windows dating from their installation, etc) and it was noisy, especially at night (rickshaws, buses, cars coming and going; drivers chatting all night; loud phones with obnoxious ring tones placed on the landing; and kids screaming). The pool looked tempting, but it is closed on Mondays for maintenance, and the next day, when I saw all the kids jumping either in their underwear or fully dressed in their dirty clothes, I was no longer tempted. What a difference a decent hotel would make in this area. The Taj, Sheraton or Park chains of hotels would make a killing and provide healthy competition. The Malligi is obviously so sure of getting tourists and visitors to fill the rooms that it has become complacent and no longer makes the necessary efforts, and takes us all for granted. And, yet again, where is all the money going? Surely not in the building itself, nor in the training of the staff. What a shame.

We were shattered and had an early night. Nothing on TV (one English-speaking channel and loads of Indian cheesy music videos). We felt very isolated, and so oblivious to the rest of the world without news and a decent newspaper containing an international section.

Tuesday, April 13

Panic this morning as we were getting ready: the itinerary and hotel bookings for the next three days did not match. We had followed Gajendra's instructions in terms of driving schedule, but he got mixed up and we have to admit that we took his word but did not double check. Since Chad has a speech to make and a lunch meeting in Gulbarga tomorrow, we cannot sleep in Badami tonight, as we could not cover that distance in the morning and arrive on time. We will stay in Bijapur but will have to cover Badami, Aihole and Pattadakal today, as well as Bijapur if possible. It will be rushed, but we have no choice and it would be a shame to miss out.

It was painful to get out of Hospet. There were hundreds of truckers all over the place, slowing traffic down. We saw the results of the night's drive: numerous truck accidents, many of which must have been fatal. The landscape got gradually drier, with fewer trees and red earth everywhere. Lots of huts and tiny homes too, in small villages. And then, nothing for miles, except trucks on the road. Then, the earth gradually turned brown again and herds of goats or buffalos were scattered across the land. The fields were also being prepared, but there were no crops yet. No coconut or banana groves either.

We left the highway and its carcasses of trucks and cars, and took a side road towards Aihole. We walked and drove all over the place to visit a few of the 125 temples on offer in this area. The most impressive was the Durga Temple (7-8th centuries), the largest and finest. We admired the numerous niches with beautiful carvings of deities, the stunning carved columns and ceilings, and the small shrines and sanctuaries surrounding it. It was unfortunate that we had to fight our way in: the cashier would not accept our Indian resident's cards and wanted to charge us Rs.250 each instead of Rs.5. A very painful experience! We later saw the cashier, a local policeman and a few others, around our car, talking to Gajendra, no doubt to find out more about us and what two "whities" are doing in this part of the world. A rarity, apparently.

We tried to see as many temples as possible, but most of them were in advance stages of decay. There were no names, no explanations, no guides to make our exploration easier. What will we remember most of Aihole? Not the temples after all, but the tiny villages around them with beautiful and friendly people, smiling and welcoming elders, and curious kids. These amazing faces told stories that I would have loved to hear, had we had the time. I can barely imagine how tough life is around here.

Pattadakal offers another sacred temple complex on the banks of the Malprabha river. Like Hampi, it is a Unesco World Heritage site, built in the 8th century and mostly used for royal festivities and coronation ceremonies. The local population seemed small and reduced to a few tiny villages. The temples were very striking. The largest ones, Virupaksha and Mallikarjuna, are both dedicated to Shiva. The former is the only temple still functioning today. In the front, there is a lovely pavilion with a beautifully carved Nandi. A woman with a wooden stick was permanently stationed there to keep the monkeys away from offerings. There were many monkeys roaming around, with young ones. I wanted to take pictures, but an idiotic couple of tourists scared them away with their huge objectives.

We walked further to the Papanatha Temple (also 8th century) which has lovely wall niches, an unusual arrangement of double halls leading to the shrine, porches on the sides, towers and stunning carvings. The whole site was quite extraordinary. Here again, some excavation and renovation projects were under way. We had a cool drink, talked to a few locals and headed towards Badami.

We had lunch at the Badami Court Hotel, which had a very interesting menu. Apart from the usual Indian traditional dishes, it also served "speghetti nepolitan", "macarooni casiroll", "chef corden blow", "steak layonaise", and even a "vegetarian dragon". All this to wet your appetite! We managed to find a suitable option and get some rest before continuing.

Badami was a bustling place: pigs everywhere, election decorations, lots of shops and stalls, and crowds of men lining the streets. Our first sight before reaching the sacred caves: pigs and dogs eating the bleeding carcass of a cow. Quite a sight…

Dramatically located within a horseshoe of red sandstone cliffs overlooking the green waters of a large lake, this site was the capital of the early Chalukya kings (6-7th centuries). Four cave temples are richly carved in the cliff. Before we started the climb (another one!), we took note of the warning: "beware of the monkey menace". A man with a long wooden stick was standing near the steps to keep them away.

• Cave 1: dedicated to Shiva. Small pillared verandah with a square, columned hall and a small shrine carved in the rock. The highlight: the Nataraja panel (a 12-armed dancing Shiva) and the carved ceiling.
• Cave 2: called Vaishnava, and dedicated to Vishnu. The highlight: a boar incarnation of Vishnu, and a nice row of dwarfs.
• Cave 3: also dedicated to Vishnu. The highlight: an enormous 4-armed figure of Vishnu seated on Adisesha, the protective serpent. At his feet, Garuda the bird, his mount. The only cave with bears a date: 578 AD.
• Cave 4: dedicated to Jain deities. The Highlight: walls covered with standing or seated Jain tirthankaras.

The Agastya Lake looks very green but not very tempting: people washing, animals soaking, laundry spot, and trash dumping site. In the old days, when the lake and tank were fuller, it must have been a stunning and quite a treat. We walked down the cliff and around the lake. We passed a small mosque and Islamic school, then walked through tiny alleys bordered with small and low houses. We are in a Muslim area, and there are pigs everywhere. They reproduce fast as the local population does not eat them. I do not recall ever seeing so many at once. Kids were playing cricket, women were washing clothes, old men were chatting or watching animals grazing. Fliers and decorations indicated that the political parties had done their rounds. Even kids too young to vote had been drafted into distributing papers and perhaps convincing their illiterate parents and relatives to vote for one party or the other.

At the top of the mountain, we could see the Malegitti Shivalaya Temple, perched on top of an isolated boulder. Famous for its sculptures of Shiva and Vishnu, carved garlands and various aquatic monsters which we did not see: no time to climb another mountain! We did check the Bhutanatha Temple though, built on the lake, with a pyramidal tower and known for its sleeping Vishnu and seated Jain figure. We could not go all the way, unfortunately: due to the renovation process around the temple. We certainly got a good sweat out of all this walking though. It was so hot and sunny, we nearly melted.

From the caves, Badami reminded me of north African villages and small towns: tiny white square homes with flat roofs and colorful garments drying everywhere. I noticed the sewage system (although primitive and probably not sufficient): tiled or cemented trenches in front of homes, where dirty water and human waste could be evacuated. While the idea is good, it did not seem to go very far: trash dumped in the narrow canals blocked the flow. It was not an entire failure, however: pink and black pigs and piglets obviously enjoyed going there to take their bath and "refresh" themselves. Hummmm: I don't think I fancy pork chops anymore.

Kids wanted to shake our hands, be pictured and asked for school pens. I should have brought a bag of Bic pens or pencils with me. They also wanted chocolate (wishful thinking in this heat!) but finally accepted we did not have any. On the outskirts of Badami, I noticed the tribal women: elaborate and colorful saris or full skirts with tops, heads covered by the palu, heavy silver earrings, pierced noses, and silver pieces hanging from hair placed over their cheeks. They are short, but visibly tough and strong. They have beautiful and very expressive faces. We drove on a small road for a while until we could join the highway again. We are planning to get to Bijapur not too late, so that we can enjoy its Muslim treasures and sites.

We arrived in Bijapur before nightfall, and had time to take a picture of the Gol Gumbad before the gates were closed, then looked for our hotel. I love India: $8 for a deluxe double room with AC! Unfortunately, tomorrow comes early: we need to see the major landmarks this town has to offer, before moving on to Gulbarga. We need to be there for noon, as Chad has a lecture and lunch. We will have a small window of opportunity to at least see a few places at 6am, even if we cannot visit them. But that's better than nothing. Funny enough, our driver would not mind skipping all the Muslim landmarks: he thinks only Hindu sites are worth seeing. But we disagree. We will see as much as we can, and we cannot let his religious intolerance influence our itinerary.

Impressions, at the end of the day: it was another bloody hot day! And not a good one for politicians: more than twenty women (and perhaps children too) died yesterday in Lucknow. Several thousands were gathered to celebrate some politician's birthday, and a distribution of saris took place - another method to secure votes. A stampede started, and many women were crushed to death, and many more injured. That is the price of Indian democracy. Unsurprisingly, the politician in question denied any wrong doing and tried their best to look sad and shocked. All very sickening.

Wednesday, April 14

We were up at 5:15 this morning and got ready quickly. Impossible to linger anyway: the twin beds and pillows were as hard as rocks, the AC did not produce any cool air, and there was no hot water. I guess that's what you get when you pay $8 a night. But it was clean and quiet, at least. God knows what people get for cheaper rates…

We started at the Jami (or Jama) Masjid (16th century), a mosque which could have been grand but was left unfinished. At 6:15 am, kids were already playing cricket, while adults walked around energetically, doing some exercises. We then proceeded to the Astar (or Asar) Mahal, originally the hall of justice and then used as a sanctuary and reliquary sheltering two hairs of the Prophet. It was even more popular than the previous place: women on one side talking, taking care of the children; men on the other side, actively moving their arms and legs all over the place.

We passed the ruins of an old Hindu temple and the fortified walls and moat of the Citadel. We found the Mihtar (or Mithari) Mahal on a small street. The squalor was appalling and contrasted with the small structure, which was particularly beautiful. The balconies, projected over the street, looked like they were carved out of wood, but are actually made of stone. The door was also striking.

We drove outside the city gates to find the Ibrahim Rauza, a magnificent mausoleum with the tombs of Ibrahim II and his wife. This funerary complex consists of a tomb and a mosque (on the right) in the middle of a well tended garden. Contrary to all the Bijapur monuments so far (except the Mihtar Mahal), the mausoleum was still in stunning shape.

Our final stop was at the Gol Gumbad (or Golgumbaz), Bijapur's most famous landmark, visible from miles around. It is a monumental mausoleum for the tomb of Mohammad Adil Shah (17th century), second son and successor of Ibrahim II. What makes it striking is its round dome, the largest in the world after Saint Peter's in Rome. The inside was completely bare, and a small structure indicated the exact location of the tomb and body. Sadly, the solemnity of the monument was spoiled by kids screaming horrendously from the Whispering Gallery above. The sounds were deafening. On the left of the Gol Gumbad stands a small mosque, with curvy arches and slender minarets. Overall, it is a superb monument whose surrounding gardens must be popular in the evening.

I had very mixed feelings about Bijapur. All the monuments we saw (too briefly) were vestiges of the city's former grandeur, glory, wealth and power, and, above all, of days long gone. Today, Bijapur is nothing but a shadow of its former self. Apart from a few nice homes here and there, there were only slums to be seen: mountains of trash eaten by entire families of pigs, skinny and filthy children, poorly dressed women, homeless people, and old faces whose wrinkles and lackluster eyes revealed the extent of their prolonged suffering. The squalor was worse than I expected in a city with such a glorious past and history. It is obviously an extremely poor place with many destitute people. Prosperity, artistic and architectural refinement and wealth no longer seem to be possible.

Besides, it was not a very friendly and welcoming place. It is the only place where our status of Indian residents was not acknowledged and we had to pay the tourist rates. As if Tamil Nadu was not part of India! It is lucky that we saw Bijapur so early in the morning, as the main offices were still closed. We would have had a field day arguing with the management of the site, and the rip off attitude when a foreigner shows up. This need to take advantage of the few tourists around and take them for a ride is so maddening. It drives us nuts.

We spent the next hour and a half on the worst road we had ever experienced so far (it could hardly be called a road, actually) to reach Gulbarga. We had never seen anything like it. We are fortunate not to be car sick, otherwise, we would never have reached our destination. After an absolutely horrid journey, we arrived in Gulbarga, a few minutes after eleven. Sadly, we wasted a great deal of time looking for our hotel. We lost our way and every single person we asked for direction had something different to say, which did not help much. We eventually made it to the Southern Star Hotel, which was definitely not a star. The room we got was utterly filthy, was not prepared, and frankly, it was awful. Disgusting carpets, sheets with stains and holes, hardly any water, no shower or bath tub as such, in addition to the men running around half naked in the corridors were enough hints for us to reconsider. I cannot even mention the bathroom tiles and how they looked after years of neglect. A second room was offered, but there was no improvement. We decided to change, in order to get ready for our meeting and left the hotel, stunning all the guests, the staff at the reception and our driver. I guess that was a premiere in the history of the hotel.

We found the university campus without too much difficulty. We met some of the university officials and faculty members, then proceeded to the lecture hall where Chad made his presentation. The room was full. Since there were very few questions for the Q&A session, we quickly moved on to the guest house and the dining room, where we had lunch with a few professors.

Then we took a very quick tour of Gulbarga. We particularly enjoyed the lake, where hundreds of buffaloes were bathing and trying to remain cool. We checked a few small mosques, a Hindu temple, and finally the Fort. It sheltered the Jama Masjid, a huge mosque protected by high crenellated walls and a wide moat (full of trash, by the way). Gulbarga, the flourishing capital of the Bahmani dynasty, was a huge disappointment. Everything is in such poor shape. The people live in such dire conditions. For the first time since we have been in India, we found the children very unfriendly, aggressive and unpredictable. No smiles: just blank faces or kids running and screaming after the car like angry dogs. It was not at all the India we are used to and have always cherished on all our travels so far. I can only guess that life is particularly tough here. People are better off in the countryside.

We decided to leave Gulbarga and head for Bidar, where we would spend the night. It is a gamble as we have made no arrangements, but then, we could not possibly find a worse hotel. The region seems very arid and lacking in irrigation systems. The roads are pretty bad too. The small villages scattered here and there looked very poor and were far apart.

Then, out of the blue, while crossing the small village of Hallikhed, we saw the Sri Kailashnatteshwar Temple. We stopped to admire this massive statue of Shiva, which looked brand new and almost part of a Bollywood film set. It stood out in the middle of this poor place, which probably did not have much to offer besides promises of a better life as a result of a special pooja at the feet of Shiva.

We arrived in Bidar at 6h30, sick of being in the car. The town looked interesting and is famous for its air force school for pilots. We stopped at the Krishna Regency Hotel to check the rooms. They looked good, clean and it was possible to have some air conditioning. We had a tasty vegetarian meal (the chana - chickpeas - and nan bread were particularly delicious).

Thursday, April 15

The night was hot. The AC was as loud as a plane reactor and blowing right on our faces. We could not use it, or would not have slept and would have turned into ice cubes overnight. We used the ceiling fan, but it did not help much, unsurprisingly. The next morning, we felt as if we had been locked up in a sauna.

Bidar is a very friendly place. Curiosity brings people out: they want to know where we come from and our "good" names (the classic questions). The car plates intrigue too, and raise more questions. Gajendra always has somebody to talk to, wherever we go.

We started at 8 with the complex of mausolea of Baridi rulers (16th century), not far from the hotel. It is surrounded by gardens. The domed buildings still had beautiful calligraphic panels. The other side of the complex, across the road (Golden Jubilee Bareed Shahi Park) was particularly well tended and cared for, irrigated and used as a park after 5pm. The gardener let us in exceptionally, to take pictures and walk around.

We then walked around the fort for a while. It must be one of the biggest we have seen so far, if not the biggest. Built in the 15th century, parts of it are still in amazing shape. Others have been left to crumble. We visited the Rangeen Mahal, the palace with beautiful ceilings carved in wood and mosaic panels. The inlaid mother-or-pearl decorations and carvings were also striking. We passed the jail, then entered an enclosure with the Solah Khamba Mosque. It is unusual due to its massive circular columns and a walled garden. We checked the small museum out, with its display of stone carvings, old photographs, pieces of pottery and china, weapons, and remains of the past. We kept on walking around and enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere. A few students, scattered around the ruins, were revising for their exams and studying hard. A tiny group of children wanted chocolate, but settled for chocolate chip cookies. We went back to town and found the Madrasa if Mahmud Gawan, the former theological college. Most of it is now in ruins, but its minaret remains very impressive. The Persian style building with large bulbous domes used to be renowned for its library. Tile mosaics were still visible, including a calligraphic band in rich blue and white. Suddenly, we were surrounded by children who wanted to be photographed. They were absolutely adorable.

We checked the local crafts as Bidar is known for its bidri art (gold, silver or brass carvings on a black matt surface), but we saw nothing tempting. We left Bidar and drove a few kilometers to reach Ashtur, a small village and the final resting place of the Bahmani Sultans and their families. We stopped on the way to visit the Chaukhandi of Hazrat Khalil Ullah, a striking octagonal-shaped tomb built by Allaudin Shah for his chief spiritual adviser. While most of the tiles have fallen off, the stonework remains stunning. In addition, the tomb is evidently still significant: an imam was chanting prayers in a dark corner, incense was burning, and all the tombs surrounding the main one were covered with colorful cloth.

Several tombs stood a bit further down the road. The oldest and grandest was built for Amhad Shah (15th century). The murals must have been exquisite at that time, but most of them have now vanished. The tomb of the saint Khalil Allah had beautiful calligraphic panels on the doorway. The tomb of Alauddin Ahmad II had one side covered with deep blue and white tile mosaics, which must also have been very beautiful. The collapsed tomb of Humanyun the Cruel (cracked open by lightning apparently) was now left open to the elements. All together, the tomb complex was worth the detour. We left Bidar and its friendly and welcoming people behind and headed for Hyderabad, our final destination. The road was in much better condition and promised a reasonably comfortable and speedy journey.

We arrived on the outskirts of Hyderabad / Secunderabad without trouble. But yet again, it was impossible to find our hotel. Our driver would not ask, so we had to make him stop and ask. We must have stopped a dozen times, and were hardly more informed. The locals do not seem to know their neighborhood at all. We consequently wasted nearly an hour fooling around. Eventually, Chad stopped a rickshaw, and we decided to follow him. He seemed to know where to go, at least.

We finally found the Sheraton hotel, and chilled out for a while. We enjoyed a delicious buffet lunch despite the pushy and arrogant waiter (an unusual combination in India) and then were on the road again.

We stopped at the Spanish Mosque (built in 1906), a colorful building with Moorish arches and octagonal spires. The few people around were very friendly. We drove around for some time to find our way again: no street names, no signs - complete chaos. It took a while, but the map was helpful and we finally found the Hussain Sagar Lake and admired the gigantic statue of Buddha, placed on a rock in the middle. The 17 m high statue weighs 350 tons and is a recent addition to the Hyderabad landscape (1994). It looked pretty cool, but the sun was blinding, so we did not see it as well as we wanted. We noticed the following contrast nearby: slum on one side, "Snow World" (a theme park) on the other. It is a crazy world. We passed the Andhra Pradesh State Assembly, a striking and vast building with a huge statue of Gandhi in the front. Traffic was quite mad, but Gajendra managed very well.

We then explored the Charminar, a "souk" like area in the heart of the old city. Built in the 16th century by the Qutb Shahi dynasty, it is now the hub of busy commerce. The mosques and palaces are surrounded by bustling bazaars selling everything and anything from tacky underwear one would not want to be seen dead in to perfume, without forgetting fruit and vegetables, clothes, Islamic books, plastic goods, pearls, bangles, herbal potions, brocade turbans for grooms, old saris, "gem" stones and sweets. We were solicited endlessly but managed to dismiss followers and beggars. The area was really interesting: the Charminar and its 54 m high minarets and grand arches; the Mecca Masjid (17th century), the resting place of several Nizams and a very popular and frequented mosque still today; the Lad Bazaar, where I observed many craftsmen making bangles (quite a complicated and painstaking process); the Unani Hospital, built by the last Nizam in 1920 for the practice of Arab-Greek medicine. In a word, a fascinating part of town, full of people and activity.

I have to admit that walking around the Charminar was an amazing experience, as the sun set. The crowds were out in force, and it was like a ant hill: people selling, pulling you into shops and stalls, many female Muslim customers on a spending spree, children begging or selling small and easy to carry goods. And then, out of the blue, Chad was stopped by two men, whom Chad had met in Chennai. Fancy that, meeting two people he had met once for a few minutes, in the middle of crowd of thousands! What a coincidence!

We headed back to the hotel, but it took ages to get there. Traffic was horrendous and we had to stop to let a motorcade go by, with probably the Andhra Pradesh's chief minister, Chandra Baba Naidu in one of the cars. But we finally made it…

Friday, April 16

We started the day at the Qutb Shahi Tombs, the royal necropolis where the remains of 7 out of 9 rulers can be found. It was an amazing complex with a mix of tombs, mosque, summer house and mortuary bath. The Qutb dynasty left its memorable mark on the region and this complex pays tribute to their influence, power, wealth, culture and era. We had a lovely time exploring the gardens which were pretty well kept, and we were lucky to be able to do so, as we expected to find everything closed on Friday (Muslim day off).

Then we went to the Golconda Fort, the citadel of the Qutb Shahi dynasty, sprawling across a boulder-strewn plateau. It is a superb 16th century structure, fully fortified with palaces, mosques, gardens, an armory, and a Hindu temple. We checked the following:

• Fateh Darwaza: the "Victory Gate", the fort's entrance.
• Habshi Kaman Gate: with two massive arches, for guards and a fantastic door.
• Durbar Hall: the throne room with a rooftop pavilion. It offered a great view of Secunderabad and Hyderabad and the surrounding areas.
• Mahakali Temple: the Hindu cave temple built into the rock. The highlight: the paintings on the rocks on both sides of the temple were particularly colorful, expressive and graphic. Kali is the goddess of destruction. She has many arms and they hold the heads of beheaded people and weapons.

The way down was, unsurprisingly, much easier than the way up, despite the sun and heat. We got a very good view of the ruins of the Rani Mahal, a palace which must have been magnificent in its heyday. The carvings, the arabesques, arches, and alcoves were beautiful. We stopped a few moments to observe a crew filming a commercial Telugu movie. The hero (with long fake light brown hair, wearing tight jeans and a skimpy leather top) was trying hard to look frightening but perhaps not hard enough for me: the fake hair and cheesy outfit ruined the effect. The heroine was being fanned in a corner by a young man, and was twirling her hair with a great deal of attitude, while waiting for her moment to come. The dancers were also waiting for their scene, and were scattered around the ruins in small groups. It was fun to watch for a while. What is interesting to note is that the actors cannot sing and do not know the script either: the lines appeared on a monitor The result if very poor lip movement, which must make the voiceover very difficult.

On the way back to town, we passed a striking red building, one of Hyderabad's universities. Nearby is the Andhra Pradesh High Court, another striking building on the bank of what is left of the Musi river. River is indeed a big word: it is more like a stream. Looking more closely, I also realized that the sewage system flows into it. As one can imagine, the stench was overwhelming and the sight was disgusting. Yet, to my utter amazement and shock, I saw that people (the dobi wallas) were established further down and washing laundry. Many white shirts were hanging and drying in the sun. I was gobsmacked.

Opposite the High Court, on the other bank, stands the Osmani Hospital, a spectacular building with domes and several wings. It looks like a palace and would make an amazing hotel… It was built in 1925 by the Nizam, as part of his efforts to modernize the city and its medical facilities. We saw a busload of Indian nurses from a nursing school leaving the premises. All very friendly, good-looking, young and enthusiastic. A nice change from the hardened old matrons we get in western hospitals these days…

Then we wasted nearly one hour looking for the Badshahi Ashurkana, the "Royal House of Mourning". There was much confusion and ignorance about the location of the monument. But since there is nobody willing to simply admit "I don't know", we went in circles for a while, until a traffic policeman gave us the necessary clue. We finally found it near the beginning of the Charminar area, hidden away behind police and military supply stores, and a supplier of old scooters. Built in the 16th century by one of the Qutb Shahi rulers, it offers exquisite enamel-tiled mosaics. The colors dominating are very bright (blue, orange, yellow, green) and the walls look stunning. On display, there are also gold and silver standards used for ceremonies, which are studded with precious stones. The caretaker was very friendly and let us have a closer look. That was the end of our touristic day.

It takes so long to drive from one area to the next that we did not do much: a bit of shopping, and a look at pearls, as it is one of the trades which Hyderabad is so famous for. We finally decided to go back to the hotel to enjoy its perks and chill out after this long and tiring trip.

Saturday, April 17th

We headed straight to the Salarjung Museum in the morning, to avoid the crowds that would come later in the day. It displays more than 40,000 items once collected by the Prime Minister of Hyderabad, Salarjung III. The collection was very eclectic and ranged from tacky children's toys to French furniture, without forgetting clocks, objects made of jade, a Japanese and Chinese gallery, Indian miniature paintings, carpets, china, glassware, bronzes, European paintings, an Egyptian room, ivory carvings, weapons, and Islamic manuscripts. There were definitely many treasures: one painting by Canaletto, several Hiroshige originals, superb Chinese and Japanese china pieces and embroidered hangings, among many others on display. I cannot quite understand how a PM could have accumulated so much wealth so quickly (1899-1949). A personal fortune and gifts can be taken into consideration, of course, but still, the collection was unusually large. What would it have been, had he been a maharaja, a sultan, or a king?

Here ends our Hyderabad tour. This afternoon, Gajendra starts the trip back to Chennai, as it is very long (about 11 hours). He will be home tomorrow, after spending the night somewhere on the way to break his trip and rest. As for us, it is chilling out time, although Chad has to work tonight and make a presentation.

More impressions of Hyderabad: The city definitely has a great deal of character. It is perhaps not as hip as Bangalore (no pavement cafés, pubs, malls, western shops, etc) but exciting all the same and worth exploring. The Muslim influence may result in some conservatism and traditionalism, but there is obviously a lot happening. We found the people very welcoming and friendly too. For foreigners, the quality of life must be quite good, and certainly better than in Chennai. It is clean; there are better roads and infrastructure, better public transport, no water shortage (even potable water in the hotel - a first so far in India), lovely parks and gardens, nice shopping streets, and a lot of sites under construction.

However, not everything is rosy. Like everywhere in India, the city has its dark side: extreme poverty. The slums are more visible here than in Bangalore (they must have been pushed away from the downtown area and relocated) and beggars are literally everywhere. They are children and old women mostly, and we found them extremely persistent and very aggressive: they follow you wherever you go, bang loudly on the car windows and doors until the car starts moving. They are not shaken off lightly with a "no" or "sorry maam".

We came back to Chennai with hundreds of pictures and many memories to hold on to. India, the country with a thousand facets, where places, faces, customs and habits, food, culture, arts, crafts, landscapes, architecture, and religious beliefs are never the same from one state to the next. We will miss all of that very dearly.