Reproduction antique maps and pictures
- and modern prints
Horse pictures

Home  |  Maps of Ireland  |  Horse Pictures  |   Aerial / Satellite Pictures  |  Pictures of Egypt  |  Email from India

 

  Indian Tales:

  Start here
  Oct 26th - 29th  
  Nov 1st - 4th
  Nov 10th -

  Travel Information - All India

  Top Ten Places to Visit in India:

  Agra (for Taj Mahal)
  Amritsar (for Golden Temple)
  Chennai (Madras)
  Goa
  Jaipur
  Kolkata (Calcutta)
  Lucknow
  Mumbai (Bombay)
  New Delhi
  Shimla (for the mountains)

 

 

An Email From India
Nov 1st - Nov 4th 2006

In which a group email is sent and Julien joins in the jubilee celebrations of the unification of Karnataka in the town of Hampi. He is harangued and then shocked by a group of policemen and gets involved a mass wrestling event as a reporter rather than combatant.

From Julien - Nov 3rd 2006

Sikhs on the beach

So,

After some rather decadent goings on in Goa, Ed and I caught the train to Hampi in the state of Karnataka. Goa happened all too quickly and despite our best efforts we found ourselves entangled in the salubrious delights of the tourist scene. Riding bikes through truly awe-inspiring scenery proved a most agreeable distraction, but I'd be a liar and a scoundrel if I didn't admit to indulging in the hedonistic delights over-indulgence, gratuitous eating and talking to strangers. Between intolerable cliché and disreputable behaviour, however, we did manage to do some thorough exploring and meet some remarkable people before catching the train to Hampi in the state of Karnataka. That I'm afraid is all you're getting on Goa.

And what a place is Hampi. Set amid the backdrop of the most striking rock formations I've ever seen lies the ruined 13th century capital city of Vijayalikar. Founded by two Hindu brothers this city held out against Muslim invaders from the north for over 200 years. And it doesn't take a Michael Moore to see why: piles of enormous boulders hang loosely together as if dropped from the sky, punctuated by rivers and numerous stretches of scattered streams, which overlook countless temples, statues and monuments in varying states of disrepair. With the obvious exception of Milton Keynes I have seen no finer tribute to the grandeur of human endeavour than this most resplendent city. For miles this biblical landscape stretches across the arid, rocky terrain. I had no idea that such a place existed, and even trying to convey the haunting majesty of the place seems a little trite. I'm an arrogant man - and Ed, well he's just ignorant - but after scrambling over the granite hills for the best part of a day each of us were too humbled to come up with any facetious remarks. The hundreds of pictures I've taken just don't do justice to this place and so you'll all have to make do with my incessant rantings on this place upon my return. God willing.

So it seems our arrival in Hampi coincides with the jubilee celebrations of the unification of Karnataka as a state, which in turn coincides with a major Hindu festival celebrating something I have yet to get to the bottom of. With all the pomp and pageantry such an occasion merits, the town is limbering up to play host to over 5000 pilgrims, sight-seers and ne'er do wells. A huge stage is under construction for several elaborate performances set to take place this evening. On the eve of this 3-day extravaganza The Big Easy and myself find ourselves at luncheon reviewing a procession of around 300 policemen in lines three deep that extends across the horizon of our generously sized veranda - a sight arguably more sobering than the majestic views we had enjoyed earlier.

And then the rain came.

Scrambling like school kids at the sound of the lunchtime bell the police fled to the confines of the nearest shelter which, needless to say, included the very restaurant in which, moments earlier, Ed and I had been ruminating on the ontological ramifications of Shelley's 'Ozymandias' as a work of unreconstructed dialectical discursivity. As the brouhaha abated we found ourselves surrounded by around 20 moustachioed officers sporting cudgels, light riot equipment and the occasional Stetson. With the rain showing no sign of relenting their attention turned to the two quaking, pasty-faced gentlemen in panamas and cravats huddled tremulously in the corner. Raining questions down on us as if interrogating us for indecent exposure (Ok, Ed's case is still pending, but mine collapsed back in '98 due to lack of corroborating evidence) we fielded them as competently as we were able. "What is the purpose of your visit?", "Where do you intend on going afterwards?", "Have you a wife or dependants?". And then, amid peels of laughter, the bombshell: "In the UK do you manage to get much fucking done?" After a dexterously crafted response (a reddening of the cheeks and a stuttered "no") I received a tremendous slap on the back and the burly arm of a tasselled Lothario around my shoulder. (I think it worth mentioning that said arm remained in place until the rain subsided and the paraders reconvened.) I've said it before, but that's the last time I wear my hair down in public.

So that's really about the crux of it. In between these happenings and other happenings there is little else that my tired fingers can offer. I feel it worth mentioning to those unacquainted with this already tired story, that I met a Tamil Tiger called Jo with whom I played both volleyball and chess. A trifle lacklustre at the game of kings, he had me in check embarrassingly quickly. I still retain, however, that the three bullet holes in his chest and scar running all the way across his throat dictated the run of play. Errr... And other things that I find myself already forgetting.

We plan to stay here for another weeks - there's so much to see here that anything less would be a slight of this fair city - before catching the train to Bangalore and the pursuit of further misadventure.

To those I have yet to respond to, my graces will be bestowed upon you shortly. Until such times I bid you farewell and Godspeed.

May you live in interesting times.

From Paul - Nov 3rd 2006

"Sikhs on the beach"

kin 'l

Niall is most put out he hasn't had a Bubbub/Niall-centric email.

Please keep an eye out for Elvis, I came across an "Indian Elvis Impersonator Competition" a while ago, though I can't really remember if I saw it on a sign outside a pub, on the web or maybe even if you told me about it. Nonetheless, I suggest you and Ed initiate what could come to be a popular niche in sub-continental culture. I suspect the Vegas years would be the best era to address, white sparkly capes will appeal I suspect.

The "Big Easy" could become Satchmo and flood once a year in an ironic manner as his namesake - a welcome warm-up act to the main event.

Surprisingly little news about the protestors outside the Indian embassy, suspect the authorities are trying to suppress what will become an overwhelmingly popular uprising.

Go for it my son. "Boldness is all" - the family motto.

Pater

From Julien - Nov 4th 2006 (to Niall)

Yes bruv,

It has been some time since we were last in communion. Pretty sure you're on my group email list, but that doesn't quite compensate for the lack of brotherly support and guidance that you must be craving.

Today, most remarkable of days, found me watching an Indian wrestling tournament. It's a truly crazy affair, with all the wrestlers scrapping each other at the same time. I kept getting shoved around in the middle of the crowd, so I decided the time was ripe to exercise the family blagging skills that I know we both share. Forcing my way to the front I told the policemen at the front that I was a journalist for The Insight travel guide. How the hell they believed me with my crappy camera around my neck, flies wide open and curry on my tee-shirt I'll never know, but somehow it worked. They led me to the front of the ring where I had privileged access to the whole, bloody affair. I took so many photos it's almost ridiculous. Already I've used up my 400 photo limit, so I'm afraid I'm going to bore the hell out of you when I get back.

Ed, I regret to inform you has got "The Shits". He's been lying in bed all day groaning and whimpering. We both ate some weird shit from a street vendor, so it could be that. Despite having started the day with two fairly substantial stools in reasonably quick succession, my own bowels seem to be made of hardier stuff. Ed didn't appreciate me pointing that out to him, but I think it's only fair that the fact is acknowledged. Looks like I'll be dining alone this evening.

Anyway, how's things in Blighty? I imagine that you're working diligently at school, being kind and courteous to the frail and elderly and spending your free time in solitary contemplation. I know I've said it before, but too much hard work really isn't good for a young man your age and while I find your commitment to schoolwork inspirational you're going to need time to enjoy your youth. Any more letters home about being a "special little man?". What's going on bruv?

So. I'm going to try to attach some of my photos so that you can be bored by them and I can stop worrying that I'm going to lose them. There's absolutely tons, and I can't be arsed to go through all of them, so I've just sent a couple that you might like. The hell begins when I return. I'd be much obliged to you if you could acknowledge receipt at your earliest convenience. I have emailed this to Pater also (who I'm aware is still overdue an update on my movements - in the meantime just tell him about the two craps) because I don't know how often you check your emails.

Look forward to hearing from you soon,

Bubbub


Only one picture made it - this is it.

Next    Previous

Feedback | Shipping