All the ruins and palaces and forts and temples have long ago started blending together. As such, despite Mysore being undoubtedly full of beautiful architecture and wondrous religious icons, we've sequestered ourselves away on the 5th floor of Hotel Parklane, gin in hand, rooftop pool beckoning, to wile away the afternoon hours, rather than fitting in more sights. On lengthy tours, taking some time to relax and recoup is just as important as checking off another "must see" from the Lonely Planet. Guess my thighs won't get the workout of climbing the infamous 1000 steps to the nearby Chamundeshwari Temple. Lest you think we are utterly wasting our time in Mysore, I assure you we fully enjoyed the two hours of the morning spent wandering around the Palace. The maharaja lived in utter splendour here, enjoying all the pomp and regalia of being king, until the region became part of the republic of the newly independent state of India in 1947. The Marriage Pavilion and Durbar were especially gorgeous, but you'll have to take the virtual tour, as no cameras are allowed inside. The wood carvings and endless marble inlay were astonishing, but even though it's now illegal, it was upsetting to see how much ivory was used until recently. Ivory decorations on a houda (seat for dignitaries to ride in style on the back of an elephant) were particularly depressing. There were two mounted elephant heads flanking the east gate, but apparently shortly after poaching them, the maharaja recanted his evil ways and became head of the World Wildlife Protection organisation. Though that magnaminity doesn't seem to have extended to banning the horrible practice of keeping elephants in captivity, as two were chained up outside waiting to give Rs.20 "joy rides." I'm sad that these elephants in chains were the first Indian elephants I've seen in the country. Since going on safari in Tanzania and seeing so many majestic beasties run wild in the huge open plains where they belong, I can't bear the thought of zoos. Though I realise refusing to see animals except in their natural habitat is an awfully privileged stand to take, and I'll probably never see a tiger in the wild (fingers crossed for Chitwan).
We got in to Mysore about dusk yesterday, after a 12 hour drive from Hampi. We stayed across the river from Hampi Bazaar (where the city of ruins lies) in a village called Virupapur Gaddi- unfortunately the worst accommodation yet! Normally the trip across in the boat with an engine costs 10 rupees, but miss the 5.30pm cut-off and you'll be haggling with the rower of a vessel that looks like half a coconut shell (called a coracle) made out of palm fronds (Vincent eventually managed to book passage for 200 rupees, down from the initially quoted 1200). We thought we'd left the hippies on the beaches of Goa, but even though we were on the relatively quiet side of the river, the cafés and shops were full of white people with dreads and too-colourful loose cotton clothing and Om tattoos, each undoubtedly having a unique and soul-affirming spiritual "experience." And - God help us - reggae cafés with drum circles. Hippies (and my judgmental nature) aside, the ruins of Hampi were incredible. Tuesday morning, we took the (cheap, engine-driven) boat over and joined our Tuk-Tuk drivers. Vincent and I at first feared we were just being coddled as too-lazy tourists needing transport up the hill- however a city once home to half a million people at its peak is a fair size (26 sq km!), and the drivers took us several kilometers from the river to a far off side of the city, before coming back stop by stop to see many highlights of the great city (heyday 14th - 16th Century). The guide showed us the Vittala Temple (with its musical pillars and stone chariot), Queen's Bath (impressive feat of plumbing engineering), Zenana Enclosure (with its stables for 11 elephants and housing for 11 handlers, and Lotus Mahal for the ladies), Hazararama Temple (some of the best stone carvings we've seen, which "narrate" various stories), the Lakshmi Narsingh Temple (6.7m monolithic statue of Vishnu) and ending at a fairly impressive monolithic Ganesha statue.
After a fantastic lunch at the Mango Tree (popular name for eating establishments), we climbed up Hemakuta Hill for a stunning view over the only remaining working temple in the ruins, Virupaksha, before returning to "our" side of the river.
We had a restorative break back at the hotel, then Patrick and I headed out to the rocky hills with a young guide, a crash mat, a bag of chalk and very tight shoes- time for bouldering! The only climbing I've ever done has been at indoor climbing walls, carefully colour-coded for ability. In the wilds of nature, you just use the natural (sharp granite!) ledges the boulders provide. Luckily our "beginner" boulders had just enough grip we were able to scramble up on the first or second try- though some of the tougher ones required young Arjuna to give our backsides a bit of a push to gain the momentum to reach up to the next grip. It was an exhilarating way to gain views over the rice paddies and river to the ruined temples beyond. And a much needed use of our muscles, after slowly atrophying from too many hours in the truck. After a particularly tricky boulder (resulting in Patrick lying prostrate like a lizard at the top and me nearly crying because I didn't want to jump), Patrick finally released his beet red toes from the climbing shoes and bought some chai off a waif roaming the hills while I scrambled up the last few boulders before my aching fingers (and sore ankle from an unfortunate jump) called it quits as well. Arjun gave us a lift back to town on the back of his scooter (me sandwiched in the middle, Patrick on the back, wearing the crash mat on his back) and I started to seriously regret not learning how to drive motorised two wheel vehicles at some point.
The local restaurants entice punters in by advertising a different film each night- offerings like Napoleon Dynamite, Blow, Captain Phillips, Forrest Gump, Into the Wild, etc but we decided to steel ourselves for The Revenant, justifying the plan that two hours of cold and misery is more easily watched in an open café, warm air around us, hippies lounging and smoking, etc. I'm happy Leo finally got his Oscar, but Tom Hardy was actually the standout performer, the film as a whole was over rated, and the bear scene wasn't nearly as brutal as it was made out to be. Had a nice Thali whilst watching, anyway.
We got in to Mysore about dusk yesterday, after a 12 hour drive from Hampi. We stayed across the river from Hampi Bazaar (where the city of ruins lies) in a village called Virupapur Gaddi- unfortunately the worst accommodation yet! Normally the trip across in the boat with an engine costs 10 rupees, but miss the 5.30pm cut-off and you'll be haggling with the rower of a vessel that looks like half a coconut shell (called a coracle) made out of palm fronds (Vincent eventually managed to book passage for 200 rupees, down from the initially quoted 1200). We thought we'd left the hippies on the beaches of Goa, but even though we were on the relatively quiet side of the river, the cafés and shops were full of white people with dreads and too-colourful loose cotton clothing and Om tattoos, each undoubtedly having a unique and soul-affirming spiritual "experience." And - God help us - reggae cafés with drum circles. Hippies (and my judgmental nature) aside, the ruins of Hampi were incredible. Tuesday morning, we took the (cheap, engine-driven) boat over and joined our Tuk-Tuk drivers. Vincent and I at first feared we were just being coddled as too-lazy tourists needing transport up the hill- however a city once home to half a million people at its peak is a fair size (26 sq km!), and the drivers took us several kilometers from the river to a far off side of the city, before coming back stop by stop to see many highlights of the great city (heyday 14th - 16th Century). The guide showed us the Vittala Temple (with its musical pillars and stone chariot), Queen's Bath (impressive feat of plumbing engineering), Zenana Enclosure (with its stables for 11 elephants and housing for 11 handlers, and Lotus Mahal for the ladies), Hazararama Temple (some of the best stone carvings we've seen, which "narrate" various stories), the Lakshmi Narsingh Temple (6.7m monolithic statue of Vishnu) and ending at a fairly impressive monolithic Ganesha statue.
After a fantastic lunch at the Mango Tree (popular name for eating establishments), we climbed up Hemakuta Hill for a stunning view over the only remaining working temple in the ruins, Virupaksha, before returning to "our" side of the river.
We had a restorative break back at the hotel, then Patrick and I headed out to the rocky hills with a young guide, a crash mat, a bag of chalk and very tight shoes- time for bouldering! The only climbing I've ever done has been at indoor climbing walls, carefully colour-coded for ability. In the wilds of nature, you just use the natural (sharp granite!) ledges the boulders provide. Luckily our "beginner" boulders had just enough grip we were able to scramble up on the first or second try- though some of the tougher ones required young Arjuna to give our backsides a bit of a push to gain the momentum to reach up to the next grip. It was an exhilarating way to gain views over the rice paddies and river to the ruined temples beyond. And a much needed use of our muscles, after slowly atrophying from too many hours in the truck. After a particularly tricky boulder (resulting in Patrick lying prostrate like a lizard at the top and me nearly crying because I didn't want to jump), Patrick finally released his beet red toes from the climbing shoes and bought some chai off a waif roaming the hills while I scrambled up the last few boulders before my aching fingers (and sore ankle from an unfortunate jump) called it quits as well. Arjun gave us a lift back to town on the back of his scooter (me sandwiched in the middle, Patrick on the back, wearing the crash mat on his back) and I started to seriously regret not learning how to drive motorised two wheel vehicles at some point.
The local restaurants entice punters in by advertising a different film each night- offerings like Napoleon Dynamite, Blow, Captain Phillips, Forrest Gump, Into the Wild, etc but we decided to steel ourselves for The Revenant, justifying the plan that two hours of cold and misery is more easily watched in an open café, warm air around us, hippies lounging and smoking, etc. I'm happy Leo finally got his Oscar, but Tom Hardy was actually the standout performer, the film as a whole was over rated, and the bear scene wasn't nearly as brutal as it was made out to be. Had a nice Thali whilst watching, anyway.
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