58 hours of travel later...

It is 300am i am laying in bed in hampi. I laid down and fell asleep 15 hours ago. I hoped to wake up in the evening to get a climbing session in but to no avail. i guess i needed the sleep. I am overwhelmingly happy to have made it to hampi safely. This is the longest journey i have ever made to get to a climbing area. 58 hours straight of travel with roughly only 8 very poor hours of sleep, hense the 15 hours straight of sleep!! the flights were uneventful boise-LAX-Dubia-Mumbia-Goa. I had a 3 hour layover in Dubia were i wandered the enormous and extremely lavish airport. the wealth there was obvious. Giant fountains, waterfalls, gardens and amazing architecture made the 3 hours go by very quickly. I cleared customs in Mumbi. Guards carrying AK'47s remind me that I am no longer in America. I take my bags out of the customs x-ray machines and can't help but smile at the sleeping guard that is running it. guess they do things alittle different here.
The morning of my flight I made a last minute decision to buy a cheap flight to Goa, south of mumbia, and opt out of the 10 hour train ride, good decision. From Goa I take an overpriced taxi to Margoa bus station, a state run bus station. The taxi pulls into the far back corner of the dirt lot next to a giant white sleeper bus. Before I can get out 3 men come up to me.
"were you go?"
"Hospet."
The men converse. "Ok you take this bus to Bangalore than catch another bus to hospet."
I shake my head. "No I want to go to hospet."
They along with the taxi driver assure me there is no bus to hospet. I take a map out of india out and point out hospet and then bangalore to the bus men. Bangalore would be 12 hours out of my way.
"Hospet."
"no Bangalore than hospet"
"how much"
"900 rupees"
I laugh and shake my head. "no no no!"
900 rupees equal about $18 sounds cheap for a 12 hour bus ride but is way over priced for india. I ask the bust driver were the bus station is and to take me there. HE tells me this is it. I have spent time in other countries and have been riped off before so I would think I have a pretty good idea when I am being played. I ask the driver for my pad in the trunk and walk away. 100 yards away I find the ticket counter and buy a ticket to hospet for 220 rupees roughly 5 dollars. I have to wait 6 hours for the bus. I don't particularly feel like walking around Goa with my giant backpack and crash pad so I take my pack off and sit on my pad. I am the only Westerner at the bus station that is swarming with people. Almost everyone who walks by first stares at the giant white boy and then at his giant bright red and black asana crash pad. I smile and more often than not the smile is returned. 2 old Indian women sit down next to me on some steps they look at me then my pad and giggle at each other. I smile at them making them giggle some more. I am covered in sweat not yet used to the humidity. I turn to the women fan my face with my hand and say "hot" they say something in hindi and laugh. one holds out her hand and ask for pasos I shake my head, they soon lose interest and ignore me.
A few hours later a well dressed man sits next to me I smile and say hi he speaks english and we begin to chat. he asks what I do for a living I tell him i am a fireman. He tells me he is an engineer. After a few minutes of small talk he ask me how much money I make. I tell him 13 dollars an hour and also explain hazard pay and over time. He sarcastically replies "thats it?!" I am a bit taken back since he is an engeener, naively thinking he was well off. I ask him how much he makes he laughs and shakes his head I press him alittle harder and he finally tells me. 20,000 ruppees a month. alittle less than $500 a month and he has a university eduction.
THe bus amazingly arrived on time.
"Hublihospethublihospethublihospet!!" was the bus conductors call. he said it so fast I couldn't understand. Finally I went up and ask "hospet?" annoyed he assured me yes it was going to hospet. As I got on the bus a bus official took my ticket looked at my pad and said I could not bring it on the bus. I argued with him all the while trying to cram my pad in an over head rack. It wouldn't fit so I resorted to stuffing it on end next to the window. This made the bus man more angry telling me "you people are becoming as big problem." NOt sure if he meant climbers or westeners, probably both. I told he I would fix it. As more passengers entered he got feed up and stormed off. I sat next to my pad with my backpack at my feet and tried to make myself as small as possible as the bus official kept throwing me nasty looks. The bus was not meant for people my size and I had to lean forward and angle my bent legs up and left to fit. My hope to sleep a few hours on the 12 hour bus ride were quickly dashed as the bus became completely full. The cold stares I received made me uneasy. This was the first time in a while were I felt unsafe. This feeling subsided as the hours pasted along witht the dark stairs. My neighbors warmed up as I tried to converse with them. The 12 hours past in a fatigue produced haze. I badly wanted to sleep but the road was to rough and I was to cramped to sleep more the 10 to 15 minutes at a time. My nerves were wearing thin by the bus drivers amazing feats of reckless driving and the guards that searched the bus for weapons, drugs and bombs. I watched the sun rise from my seat and soon found myself on the last leg of the journey hospet to hampi. a short 15 inute bus ride. The bus drove past boulder after boulder the size of the peabodys in bishop. I was soon welcomed by the sight of gigantic hindu temples and endless mountains of granite boulders. I pushed past the peddlers and beggars and made my way to goan corner. A quiet guesthouse nestled by the a boulders field on hampi island. Exhausted and happy I ate a delicious breakfast of puri banji, chia and orange juice and went to bed.
Picture to come the internet is slow.