One more song

The past two and half weeks have occurred outside the realms of time. There have been no days of the week or even hours of the day to define life and the results of these intriguing final two weeks in India have been breathtaking.

It all began in Hampi, the small tourist destination in the state of Karnataka. Hampi is home to the desert like plains of Central South India scattered with towering boulders seemingly dropped sporadically across the whole landscape, but in fact naturally carved out by the wind and rain over the course of millions of years. The backdrop to Schaffner's original  "Planet of the Apes" would be an accurate comparison. Alongside a collection of impressive temples, intricately carved from the rock face over 500 years ago, the were also a plethora of lakes and rivers to chill out in and launching yourself completely naked of 10m cliffs was pretty liberating if not slightly painful!

However my story of Hampi is a slightly different one to the well trodden tourist experience. I was lucky enough to stumble upon the Tipi, a guesthouse relatively hidden away from the main tourist strip and home to a variety of long-term travellers in all their different shapes and forms. Some who had been in India for at least a year; skipping over the border to Nepal and arranging a small bribe to facilitate another six-month extension. Others who had been on the road for four years straight, living each day as it came, getting by on good humour, an unwavering faith in the world and a touch of frugality. And even self-proclaimed "Jesus Hippies". To say the group here was diverse would not do justice to each individual's intriguing story, their energy and intelligence with which each articulated their own opinions and outlook of life.

I was easily caught up in the wave of enthusiasm everyone had for travelling and soon found myself vacating my old guesthouse to move into a giant Tipi, home to 15 of us and more at times. This "family" as we came to identify ourselves as had its origins scattered across the vast India subcontinent, a small group had travelled together in Rishikesh, others had crossed paths at the Indian rainbow gathering, but the group had a remarkable ability to seamlessly grow, welcoming newcomers as if they were old friends.

Music was the focal point of the entourage and the source of free, easy, endless entertainment. With so many extremely talented musicians amongst us, we jammed with guitars, accordions, djembe, the didj and several willing voices. We climbed up into Hampi's rocky terrain, sleeping in caves and making music late into the night while drinking cheap rum. And there were stories, teams that had spent two years making their way overland to India from the UK, some cycling the length of the country, tales of life at home in Tuscan eco-communities, former lodgers at Bilston the Edinburgh tree camp with plenty to reminisce about.

So ten days were spent in the best of company before someone decided it was time to move on from Hampi. Goa only 7hrs away was mooted as a popular choice to spend many peoples' (including my own) final weekend. So, a band of twenty-ish travellers made their way in an incongruous fashion to the beaches. Some rode the bus, others caught the train and those strapped for cash hitched or busked for a ticket, but we all made it and I was amongst the crowd entertaining passengers in song on the railway platform at 6am, whilst a half-naked Italian counterpart roamed the station asking respectable tourists for papers.

By coincidence our destination in Goa was once again Arambol. Just two months on from my previous stop on my way to the South the place had transformed itself. The main street awash with stalls catering to every variety of tourists' whims. The Russian's were out in force, flaunting short cropped hair and excessive gold and I made the mistake of walking into a (crass) flamboyant bar dominated by Russians fixated on a giant plasma, living out fantasies of being James Bond villains. Very un-Goa, but I suppose like everything else Goa is evolving, it is no longer the original mecca of hippie lore, similarly gone are the hedonistic partying days of the 80s and 90s and Goa has simply grown with the times, evolving to best suit the needs of the local population, who live extremely well by Indian standards.

16m and he jumped it for a beer..

We nevertheless found our niché amongst such oppulence, 3 to a room and 40 ruppee (50 pence) meals, and were left more than content with the company of such a large group. The infamous sunset jam sessions on Arambol beach were hijacked by this band of troubadours and we played late into the night at restaurants and bars. Whereever we went, the music drew a few bystanders then even crowds and the vibe created by providing free entertainment for all to share was unique. There was talk of further adventures in Europe in the Summer, more rainbows and invitations to stay all over the world. And the enthusiasm never died, the energy which bonded the group was incomparable and will no doubt continue long after I'm gone. I felt no sadness with my departure only a deep appreciation for that which I'd been part of.

So India has been some adventure, I'll be the first to admit that it has come with its highs and lows, the intensity of this country can grind you down reaching your limits of tolerance, only to find yourself quickly rejuvenated by a twist of fate. You are constantly learning, whether it's small daily lessons, ideas I am only understanding now as I write this on the train back to Mumbai, or maybe even concepts I am still yet to fully realize, either way India is forever teaching you.

5 am with a 50 hour journey home still to come...

A close friend of mine remarked before I left, making recourse to the old cliché that I was going to India to "find myself". I recall resolutely denying any such notion defending my trip as innocent travel. I have come to realize however, whether you go looking for it or not, that India's didactic nature is inescapable and you inevitably leave having at least been provoked into looking beyond the reality which we accept for ourselves.