3/25 - 3/27
On the train leaving Hospet we opted to sit on the luggage racks, which was much roomier and more comfortable than the crowded seats.
We only got as far as Gadag Junction, which was clearly a place where tourists don't usually end up. Gadag hotel was the only place to stay, but the staff there were so much nicer than we were used to. Towels, soap, toilet paper, a morning newspaper quietly slipped under the door, all luxuries we weren't used to receiving.
Train to Bijapur. Again, didn't seem high on the tourism list despite being a walled town with plenty of history. The walls were thick enough to have withstood the test of time, but severely eroded. The rubbish-filled moat would deter invaders more surely than any mere water moat. It may have been the first town where every kid tried greeting us and everyone wanted to practice English.
We got up really early to visit Gol Gumbaz. Huge. Really huge. A single chamber bigger than the Pantheon in Rome, topped by a dome second only in size to St. Pauls cathedral. We were the first tourists to arrive, after the crowds of locals doing their daily thing, so a guard unlocked the gates and showed us up the 100 or so steps to the whispering gallery.
Wow.
Every syllable said up there clearly echoes at least seven times and up to twelve. The dome interior is about 38 metres across, and we were able to have a conversation while sat at opposite sides whispering to each other 38 metres apart! The guard even sang beautifully for us in Arabic to show off the acoustics.
There aren't any great audio recordings online, but this YouTube video isn't bad.
We spent an hour up there marvelling at the place. As we left the whole place erupted into an ear-splitting cacophony, like a human zoo, as bus-loads of Indian tourists arrived to shriek, whistle, clap and yell in what is supposed to be a mausoleum.
We also visited a pleasant mosque...
...and the stupidly fat cannon named Malik-i-maidan, crushing the tree-trunk support beneath it.
We hadn't been drinking at all in India, but in order to eat a non-vegetarian meal we sought out a 'permit bar'. The ground floor entrance to the vegetarian family restaurant was airy, well-lit and deserted aside from all the staff. The basement-level entrance around the side through the garage led to a gloomy, smoky bar packed full of guys drinking and eating meat. Fun.
On the train leaving Hospet we opted to sit on the luggage racks, which was much roomier and more comfortable than the crowded seats.
We only got as far as Gadag Junction, which was clearly a place where tourists don't usually end up. Gadag hotel was the only place to stay, but the staff there were so much nicer than we were used to. Towels, soap, toilet paper, a morning newspaper quietly slipped under the door, all luxuries we weren't used to receiving.
Train to Bijapur. Again, didn't seem high on the tourism list despite being a walled town with plenty of history. The walls were thick enough to have withstood the test of time, but severely eroded. The rubbish-filled moat would deter invaders more surely than any mere water moat. It may have been the first town where every kid tried greeting us and everyone wanted to practice English.
We got up really early to visit Gol Gumbaz. Huge. Really huge. A single chamber bigger than the Pantheon in Rome, topped by a dome second only in size to St. Pauls cathedral. We were the first tourists to arrive, after the crowds of locals doing their daily thing, so a guard unlocked the gates and showed us up the 100 or so steps to the whispering gallery.
Wow.
Every syllable said up there clearly echoes at least seven times and up to twelve. The dome interior is about 38 metres across, and we were able to have a conversation while sat at opposite sides whispering to each other 38 metres apart! The guard even sang beautifully for us in Arabic to show off the acoustics.
There aren't any great audio recordings online, but this YouTube video isn't bad.
We spent an hour up there marvelling at the place. As we left the whole place erupted into an ear-splitting cacophony, like a human zoo, as bus-loads of Indian tourists arrived to shriek, whistle, clap and yell in what is supposed to be a mausoleum.
We also visited a pleasant mosque...
note the guy sleeping there.
...and the stupidly fat cannon named Malik-i-maidan, crushing the tree-trunk support beneath it.
We hadn't been drinking at all in India, but in order to eat a non-vegetarian meal we sought out a 'permit bar'. The ground floor entrance to the vegetarian family restaurant was airy, well-lit and deserted aside from all the staff. The basement-level entrance around the side through the garage led to a gloomy, smoky bar packed full of guys drinking and eating meat. Fun.
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