When I last wrote, we had just arrived in Hampi after a night bus—an experience I hope not to repeat soon. I’m now writing this while on another night bus, this time bound for Cochin. It’s still a bit of a bumpy, airborne ride, but perhaps not quite as bad as the last one. How we ended up taking another night bus is a long story, but suffice it to say, sometimes travel plans in India just happen that way.
In Hampi, we had booked the Ever Green Guesthouse, which came with glowing TripAdvisor reviews. Unfortunately, those reviews were based on only sixteen people, and let’s just say they must have been feeling generous. The bed was like a slab of granite, the staff seemed more interested in partying than working, and there was no hot water to be found. We toughed it out for one night before scouting out a new spot. Sai Plaza Guesthouse turned out to be better—still far from perfect—but it had decent food, a more relaxed atmosphere, and nightly movies in the restaurant. It would do.
Exploring the Rocky Wonder of Hampi
On our first day, we rented a scooter to explore our side of the river. The landscape around Hampi is spectacular—a surreal mix of volcanic rock and weathered boulders balanced in ways that seem to defy gravity. It’s easy to see why this area feels so ancient and mystical. We were told there are over 2,500 temples in and around Hampi, though thankfully we didn’t attempt to see them all.
Our first stop was the Monkey Temple. After climbing roughly 700 steps under a blazing sun, we reached the top, where the temple itself was modest but the view magnificent. I had bought a bunch of bananas on the way up, which instantly made me the most popular guy among the local monkeys. Feeding them was both hilarious and slightly terrifying—when one grabs, the rest come charging. Tease them, and they’ll hiss and threaten like they mean business. Still, it was good fun.
Later, we visited a few smaller temples, one of which came with a surprise “tour” from a self-appointed guide. We had left our shoes at the base of the hill, thinking it was a simple visit, but he led us on an hour-long barefoot climb through the rocks. He showed us the famous “singing columns” that produce musical tones when struck, but our feet were worse for wear by the end. When the “tour” concluded, he demanded 600 rupees. Nicola, unimpressed, argued him down to 300, and he stormed off. Her negotiating skills were on point.
For me, the best part of the day was driving the scooter. Nicola, on the other hand, clung to me for dear life—literally. Her fingernails were probably embedded in my skin by the end. I, however, was loving every minute of it. For less than six dollars including gas, it was an adventure I won’t forget.
Temples, Ruins, and Birthday Blessings
The next day, we took a small ferry across the river to the main heritage area known as Hampi Bazaar. The ruins of the ancient city stretch across the landscape, with temples rising from the earth like something out of a dream. The most impressive is the Virupaksha Temple, directly across from our guesthouse. A government guide invited us in for a free map and then suggested a self-guided walking route, ending with the Vittalla Temple. He also told us about a half-day bike tour he was organizing for the next morning—coincidentally, Nicola’s birthday. We signed up, and he even offered to bring a birthday cake.
We spent the afternoon walking his suggested route, passing giant bull statues, crumbling temples, and ruins that reminded me of Machu Picchu. It was about a three-kilometre trek, capped by the beautiful Vittalla Temple, the only site requiring a paid ticket. By the end of the day, we were dusty, tired, and happy to grab a rickshaw back.
The next morning—Nicola’s birthday—we joined the bicycle tour. Sixteen of us pedaled off together, though we held everyone up a bit because our guesthouse restaurant was painfully slow and the river ferry delayed. The bikes were basic, chains falling off with comical frequency, and halfway through, both Nicola’s and another woman’s bikes broke. They finished the tour on the back of the guide’s motorcycle, laughing the whole way.
Midway through the ride, the guide stopped at a shady temple garden and surprised Nicola with a cake that said, “Happy Birthday Nicola.” Everyone sang. It was a beautiful, unexpected moment—one she’ll remember forever. That evening we relaxed with a couple of beers and taught two Australian girls, Jess and Rachel, how to play Beans. Between the bike tour, the singing, and the laughter, it was a birthday well spent.
Sickness, Subways, and Cinemas in Bangalore
The day after Nicola’s birthday was meant to be a rest day, and good thing too. We booked our upcoming travel—a train to Bangalore, then another to Cochin—and spent the day lazing in hammocks. Unfortunately, I picked up a nasty stomach bug from some falafel sauce and spent the next few days running on empty. By the time we boarded the night train to Bangalore, I was heavily dosed with Imodium but stable enough to travel.
We arrived early in Bangalore and checked into our hotel by 8 a.m. After showers and a slow breakfast, we wandered to Garuda Mall—a little slice of modern civilization. Air conditioning, movie theatres, and food courts were just what we needed. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the comforts of city life. I was still weak, but when I saw a Subway, I swear angels sang. A six-inch turkey sub never tasted so divine. That night, we watched *The Secret Life of Walter Mitty* for under four dollars a ticket and planned to see *The Hunger Games* the next day for just two. Heaven.
The next morning, we visited Lalbagh Botanical Gardens—Nicola’s pick. The gardens were a welcome green refuge in the chaos of the city, though the heat was punishing. On the way back, we stopped again at the mall to cool off and grab another Subway. Unfortunately, that’s when the tables turned. Around 4 p.m., Nicola suddenly fell ill—very ill. We barely made it back to our hotel before she started vomiting, the first time in nearly fifteen years. It was awful to see her so sick.
Making the Executive Decisions
I made an executive decision that night: no train travel. There was no way she could handle it. We rebooked into the same guesthouse for another night, and she rested all day while I hunted down new tickets. With a long weekend making trains impossible to get, I reluctantly booked a dreaded night bus to Cochin instead. While I was at the travel agency, the agent pitched me a six-day car-and-driver tour through Kerala—Cochin, Alleppey houseboat, Thekkady, Munnar, and back to Kochi. The price? Under $600 including hotels, breakfasts, and a houseboat stay. I made executive decision number two: I booked it without asking Nicola.
When I returned to the hotel, she was still in bed. I told her about the bus, then casually mentioned the tour. At first she thought I was joking, but when she realized I wasn’t, she smiled and agreed it sounded perfect. Big relief. We’d have one more day in Bangalore before heading out.
We spent that extra day doing very little—wandering Commercial Street, watching *The Wolf of Wall Street*, and indulging in a few final Subway sandwiches. Bangalore might be the IT capital of India, but for us, it was the city where we finally slowed down, recovered, and recharged. After three unexpected nights, we were ready to move on again—back on another night bus, of course. And so begins the next chapter of our adventure: exploring the beauty of Kerala.
Reflections on Rest and Resilience
Travel isn’t always glamorous. There are hard beds, unexpected detours, and the occasional night spent sick in a strange city. But moments like Nicola’s birthday cake in a temple garden, or the first bite of a long-craved Subway sandwich, remind me how full this journey is—of surprises, laughter, and resilience. Hampi gave us history, Bangalore gave us recovery, and together they reminded us that even when things go wrong, we’re still exactly where we’re meant to be.