Our train arrived late to Kolkata (Calcutta), which was a shame because we only had a day and a half there to start with. To escape the crush of taxis and touts at the station, we grabbed our
packs and dashed to a ferry boat which took us across the river and left us off near the district where we could find accommodations. Near being the operative, and, as it turns out, relative, word. We walked many blocks, got some round about directions from time to time, and eventually made it to the Sudder Street neighborhood we were looking for. The hostels, there, however, were pretty bad, and expensive! There was also a bomb squad searching outside one of them, which was a little concerning. We stuck our heads into many before finding a rickety old building with little rooms available. Our room was a skinny little spot up on the roof. That night we walked a few blocks to a very modern area where there were big business buildings and nice restaurants, and we treated ourselves to a really good meal.
Ironically, Ben got sick that night. 3 weeks in India and the night we go out for a fancy meal, his stomach rebels.
The next morning, while Ben rested, I went with Pierce and Hannah to check out the Victoria Memorial, a huge marble building that looks like Victorian England meets India. Accurate, I suppose. There is some sort of museum inside, but we just checked out the grounds, as we wanted to get back to our neighborhood in time to visit the Indian Museum. Our walk to and from the Victoria Memorial took us through the Maidan, a huge, open stretch of land through the middle of the city. There are sports stadiums and parks, but mostly just open grass with a few trails. Walking through it, we passed pick-up sports games, hungry kids, businessmen, and shepards with flocks of goats. It was a surreal and enlightening walk. The Indian Museum also held a mish-mash of culture for us... art ancient and art modern, fossils, geology, and a hall of cultural dioramas that were fascinating and extremely un-PC.
After our morning of touristing, we returned to the hostel to fetch our bags and Ben. It was time to head to the airport. Kolkata has a fascinating history and the guidebook described it as a cultural center that deserved weeks of visiting to truly soak up. Regretfully for us, not this trip.
Our flight south was smooth, and we arrived in Bangalore with no complications. One long and confusingly expensive taxi ride later, though, we realized that a new and more distant airport (which we flew into) had been built since our Lonely Planet -- the most recent edition -- had been published. Ah well. Too smooth of a travel day would have been boring. We all made it in one piece to comfortable beds and hot-water showers... our last for the next two weeks!
The next day we scooted around town in heavy Bangalore traffic, looking for train tickets.
After some sticky, smoggy hours, we scored some for that night, an overnight ride that would take us to beautiful Hampi.
We have no idea what the future holds, but after all that, what we do know (in the wise words of my students), is that we are the lucky dogs.
From Goa, we got on the train one more time for a trip up the coastline, drinking sweet chai from the chai wallahs all the way. We arrived at CST, formerly known as Victoria station, and walked the 3 blocks to our tall and skinny hotel. We only had two days in Mumbai, not enough time to tackle the city properly, and so we decided to leave it largely for another trip. Instead we walked the neighborhoods around our hotel, enjoyed the big beautiful buildings, sent postcards, bought gifts, ate good food, and did our best to enjoy the last moments of our trip together.
We had beautiful sunsets (of course), and romantic fresh seafood meals on the beach.
Ben played pick up volleyball everywhere we went...
& just in case we forgot we were in India:
We spent a day on buses traversing Goa province before settling in at Arambol for our last few days of paradise. Pierce and Hannah met back up with us so we could spend two last days together, celebrating the vagabond life :)
full of ruins set in a fantastical landscape of lush green and wild boulder formations. We were a little ruin-ed out by this point in the trip, though, so we spent our first day just soaking it all in, and the second day exploring the area by motorbike. To get to our hostel, we would take a little ferry boat across the river, to and from the main town.
Here was the view from the porch swing outside our door:
We explored the main temple in town, dedicated to Shiva, which was full of mischievous monkeys. We learned a lot from our guide about the architecture and culture of the empires who had based themselves in and around Hampi over the centuries.
The temple complex is ancient, more than 1300 years old, predating many of the other ruins in the area which are remnants of the Vijayanagara empire. In the temple was an elephant, named Laksmi (after the goddess of wealth), who would give you a blessing, a "kiss", in exchange for a coin.
When we rented a motor bike for the day, we were able to make a big loop through the area, checking out ruins both royal and religious. Here's just a sampling of all the things we saw that day.
An underground temple to Shiva:
Many adorable school children:
Locals going about their daily lives, dwarfed by the landscape.
Many statues with barbie proportions:
Hampi was a visual feast, and we ate and slept well besides. It held a different vibe than anything we'd run into in the North, and we soaked that up along with the sunny skies.
After some sticky, smoggy hours, we scored some for that night, an overnight ride that would take us to beautiful Hampi.
When we got to it at last, we found our hostel -- 6 floors of cheap cells and odd colors and a rooftop cafe -- perched a few alleys back from Manikarnika, the main burning ghat.
This ghat was piled with firewood, and at all hours, wandering the neighborhood, you might hear the rhythmic chanting and hurried footsteps of a funeral party bearing a loved one's body, covered in a sheet and flowers, down to the waterside. We pressed ourselves to dirty stone walls and tried to offer respect by not staring when these processions rushed by us.
We spent that day and the next mostly wandering. It was the best people watching you could imagine. The Ganges is the lifeblood of Varanasi, despite major pollution, and it washes the clothing, food, and people of the city. On the many ghats which line the river, boys and men play pick-up cricket, goats and cows sun themselves, clothing dries, people mourn or make offerings, and trade is busily plied. 
On our last night, we ate at a restaurant that had live music, two men playing the sitar and tabla (drums).
It was mesmerizing.
Even after leaving the enclosure we could enjoy. This was the view from the rooftop of our hostel:
When we got back to the hotel, we were able to catch about an hour of news before we lost electricity. The Indian news was in shock over what was happening, but from the start they were raising a hue and cry against Pakistan, something we found a little frightening and reminiscent of the days following 9/11. There was little reaction from most Indians whom we met that day, but throughout the week, a few more people mentioned to us, with either sadness or anger, the "trouble in Mumbai" and we have seen remnants of vigils here and there on street corners throughout the last few weeks. There continues to be a lot of anger and grief covered in the news, but as travelers passing through we have not seen much of it.
The Taj Mahal is the most photogenic building I have ever been near -- it is impossible to take a bad photo and it just seems to glow with its own loveliness. The others were more or less moved, but I believe it is the most beautiful building I've ever seen and I felt totally at peace contemplating it.
