Coracle to Hippy Island
Trip Start Dec 09, 2010
175Trip End Jun 15, 2011
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Where I stayed
Brazilian George went off exploring Hampi and me and my children went down to the river to see about the possibility for getting a boat across the river. But, oh dear, the great masses were there too, making messes of poohs over the rocks and crowding to get on the ferry boats.
Every time one boat came, a far too large amount of men leapt onto it, wobbling and spilling into the waters. Two foreign girls told us that one Indian had even drowned a few days before.
Even if we could have squeezed on to such a boat it would be in danger of capsizing. Therefore we retreated.
At which a friendly German girl came up to us, saying it would be too dangerous to attempt the boat ride and we should come with her to a quieter part of the river where we could all make a safe crossing
We came to a beautiful part of the river where people bathed and pounded their clothes on the rocks. Temples were behind us and the rocky waterside wonderland was in front. There Shiva arranged a ride for us in a coracle, a round matted boat, which swirled around when first we were on it and was such fun to be in. The coracle man would not accept any money from us for the ride.
I could see there was romance blossoming between Katrina and Shiva.
Katrina was lovely and a bit regal in her manner and appearance. Rosina and I liked her a lot.
We breakfasted with Katrina at the Funky Monkey, at the Tej Guest House, where she was staying, with its views over Hampi and the river. Elephants from the festival were bathing in the river. The owner wouldn't come down on the price of a room for us and so we went off seeking a cheaper bargain elsewhere. Not before viewing a fight at the Tej though, with a drunken English guy attacking some other man. Fists were flying. I had already noticed this punky guy being loud and obnoxious. 'Always drunk', one of the staff told me. Because Hampi, being a holy place did not permit alcohol, even the local Indians would come here from across the river to get drunk.
Prices were definitely higher than in Gokarna, though we did get offered a hut for 100 rupees, no toilet though and with rubbish strewn around. Then we found a nice place with attached bathroom at the Gautama Farm Guesthouse which we bargained down to 250 rupees.
There we met a beautiful blonde South African girl, Yana, and her equally beautiful daughter, Isla. They looked like angel beings. We recognised each other as having been in Gokarna before. We lunched together, and all was good till Isla started showing negativity towards George. It was jealousy really, disliking her mother calling George an angel. I think her mum, seeing escalating naughtiness, whisked her away to save the situation.
We were about to go out to try and track down French Philippe, when he turned up at our very guest house. On losing each other in yesterdays crowds he too had a big struggle before him and on spying an old temple he'd stopped there and slept the night on its roof along with loads of Indians.
He'd got himself a room at the Shiva Guest House but didn't want to stay there as a feisty dog living there had bitten a fellow Frenchman, a deep festering bite requiring daily medical attendance. We dined with Philippe in the Goutami restaurant and watched the film Castaway there on a big screen. I couldn't stay awake all through it though.It was all too cosy on the mattresses we were lounging on, I just drifted off....