BenkyonoBen: Konark and Puri, India

We happened to arrive in Konark at the end of a day of free admission to the sun temple. Although it was getting too dark to take decent pictures we enjoyed fine views of the sexual sculptures lining the temple walls and of the temple itself, which is designed as if it were a giant chariot for the sun god Surya. The next day we viewed the temple from the perimeter wall to take a few more photos in daylight. Since we didn't get any graphic shots of sex and masturbation good enough to upload, I'm cheating and posting a couple of photos a friend sent us when she visited the other famously sexed-up temple in India.

Konark is an active fishing village, and the pushing out of the mass very heavy-looking boats was quite a sight.

The next day we caught a bus to Puri. Took us a while to figure out where to catch the bus from, despite the fact we were leaving from a tiny village. Because it's a popular tourist destination, auto-rickshaws, coaches and their drivers lined all the likely-looking spots and refused to help us out while touting their own services. Finally a helpful local pointed us toward the out-of-the-way unsigned area where the local bus was supposed to appear. The bus was packed, of course, but so much so that the ticket-seller/conductor performing a minor feat of contortion to climb in through a narrow rear window was obviously his standard way of moving around the bus. He even kicked a baby in the head coming through, but this only seemed to offend Hozumi as no-one else commented on it.

We spent a few days bumming around in Puri, taking in the local sights. Hozumi got really sick after an egg curry, and we moved accommodation twice trying to find a place that wasn't infested with mosquitoes. Top tip: Even if you kill ~20 of the buggers, seal off the place with tape and newspaper and use mosquito repellent you're still going to get eaten, plus you'll be stiflingly hot and nauseous from the repellent fumes. Move on or carry a net!

This guy bemoaned the way modern backpackers tend to eat at the expensive fancy restaurants with 'menus' and 'chairs' and 'stylish signs' instead of cheap and good street food like his. Indeed, in the backpacker ghetto of Puri he sometimes seemed like the only person selling local food at local prices.

These cages contain holy people.

The Jagganath temple is the main draw in Puri, so after Hozumi recovered we rented bicycles and cycled to the Indian side of town. The transition from the 'backpacker ghetto' to the tiny winding streets of old Puri was astonishing. Cows, rickshaws, bicycles, scooters, open drains, debris, pedestrians and broken streets made for hazardous riding but we arrived at the temple intact. The square in front of the temple was overflowing with people and cow shit. Non-Hindus can't enter but we got a nice view from the nearby library roof. The librarian made absolutely sure that we understood anyone approaching us as we left the library wasn't affiliated with him, and exaggerated disappointment at our small donation. It seems that every site in India keeps a log especially for foreigners to sign, and then sneakily adds a zero or two to the end of the recorded donation for future visitors to see and compare with. Some places were so aggressive I later thought I should have written 'TEN RUPEES ONLY' instead of '10' just to make things more difficult for them, but I didn't begrudge this particular library its little fabrication.
The temple itself is a major employer. Only broken pots can be used to present offerings to the perfect deity, so there's a massive broken pot industry. Add to that all the other craftsmen, priests, cooks etc. required to get through all the rituals that must be performed daily and you have about 6,000 people working there!