Right. We have fallen behind and need to get this up to speed. Where do the days go? Andrew's ear infection was not cured by the antibiotics so before we left Mysore we visited an Ayurvedic 'holistic health' doctor who prescribed sandalwood oil in the ear twice a day. Skeptical, but prepared to give it a go, we got a little bottle of oil. We then made tracks for Sriangapatnam and camped for free by a river that advertised 'Beware of the crocodiles'.

Next stop was Sravanabelagola where there is an ancient Jain statue of a fully naked 'Gommateshwara', erected AD 980. It is 17m high but you climb up 700 hot granite stone steps to reach it!

In Belur we camped in a hotel ground near a rubbish heap for 150 rupees - it is famous for a temple that took 1000 years to build with 644 carved stone elephants around the base of the central temple. So many incredible carvings in one place was very impressive.

A drive through forested hills to Belhonnour and we got our cheapest room yet (120 rupees = $4). The hotel had a busy bar underneath with the usual dodgy characters including a hairdresser with the worst comb-over ever seen. Extremely horrible veg broth was dished out constantly as 'bar snacks'.

The drive to Maravanthe on the coast took us through coffee plantations to the Turtle Bay resort where we stayed for two nights. After standing in the mid-day sun for nearly 2 hours while local mechanic-type men tried to widen the holes in the chassis using 'utterly incompetent' methods, including using drill buts tht didn't fit and throwing water at the drill to keep the metal cool... we were grateful for the beach.

Amelia was bitten 20 to 30 times on back and legs by some type of mosquitoes that reacted badly and needed antihistamines. Although it was a beautiful spot, right next to a nice beach, the water was so warm it gave little relief from the heat, let alone the bites. We did an oil change in a hot and dusty car park outside a 'mechanics' and we met the owners of the resort who invited us to breakfast and gave us advice on where to go scuba diving.



We debated about travelling straight up the coastal road which looked like a good road, or venturing back inland again, towards Jogg Falls. Of course we chose the convoluted, often difficult to navigate route. Only a trickle of water fell from top of the falls compared to when the monsoon comes, but the spot was still very beautiful. We stayed at a hotel there which was virtually deserted due to the lack of tourists, and looked like a prison. Loads of monkeys were playing about and we still enjoy watching their antics.



We were also treated to a young girl's Bollywood style dancing contest. The next day an unintended route led us in a cirlce, and meant our 'couple of hours drive' to Goa turned into an all day mission. Crossing the border into Goa, our fourth Indian state and the first with hassle from the police asking for 'boxes' ie. cash.


Just over the border into Goa is Palolom. Our guide book mentioned it as a small beach-side town but it was a bit of a shock to all of a sudden be surrounded by 'Whities', some not wearing much. Women and men in bikinis/topless (men) on motorbikes hooning around the roads... and all the Indian people speak excellent English which makes travelling life very simple. Palolom is also very expensive. Food and drinks are all cost so much more than the non-touristy places and was the start of our 'budget blowout.' Quite excited to have a new face in the car, we picked Paul from the airport and headed for the
recommended Agonda Beach for 2 nights.
A spot of unsuccessful fishing (we think Paddy's rod in jinxed), a day of swimming and sitting in a bamboo hut catching up with Paul, a nice change from days on the road in the heat.

An uneventful drive north to Old Goa, we visited the Bom Cathedral where a saint's body has been preserved in a casket since the 1500's. Every 12 years they open it up and have a look - just to prove it's him. As you walk by you can see his skull, and Paul had his first experience of Indian tourists asking for a photo with him. The list of UNESCO sites in India is huge, and we are so lucky to be able to visit many. Andrew found a ferry and a concrete ramp that looked like it would take us further north (he had the maps at the time). We lined up, drove the car on to the ferry and enjoyed the short ride across the river. Once there, we zoomed out on the GPS to look at our position and I heard Andrew moan 'Oh bloody hell we're on an Island!". No bridge, so we did a circle, drove back to the ferry and sailed back to Old Goa and along the river to a nice local restaurant for lunch.

Ajunta beach, known for it's dance parties and hippies was our next stop. We made our way south along the beach to 'Curlies' bar, and found a place to camp before heading out for a drink. The bars are all situated about 10-15 metres from the water and have sandy floors. Curlies was pumping loud trance music and the place was full of 50-60 year old hippies, plus some 30 something families with small children. What a different atmosphere to that of Agonda and Palolom. Fishing boats were pulled in and up the sand, gypsy women and children sold dresses and jewelry, and the dogs actually looked like they belonged to someone. We camped for free in the area normally reserved for the flee-markets.

The next morning the boys were feeling a little under the weather, so I was allowed to drive... and we headed to Belgaum. The Holi festival, also known as the 'Colors Festival' where people (men and boys) pelt each other with colored powder. The was a Wonderful atmosphere and it was entertaining to see men totally pink or purple. We stayed the night and when we left, Andrew made the fatal mistake of keeping his window down while the boys demanded money/gifts. A simple beep of our new improved air horn and the foot down would have sufficed. Paul and I had already put our windows up and were locking our doors when a handful of pink powder was thrown through Andrew's window. His face, neck, shirt and the front half of our car were instantly transformed pink.

Outside of the car is now green, pink and purple. The festival celebrates climax of Spring, and tended to send the young men a bit crazy. In the small villages they put huge rocks across the road so that vehicles had to stop, and we adopted the 'straight through' approach. Some of the locals had faces sprayed silver and looked at us with crazed eyes. Paul locked his door.

We have now made it to increadible Hampi, but that's the next post....