Khajuraho

 

As I come back to this (currently unfinished) blog over two years later, with only pictures (and google) to jog my faded memory. I can’t guarantee I will provide any practical travel help; Where did we stay? No idea. How did we get there? Not a clue. Was there anything I wish I had known at the time that would be very useful to someone travelling to the area for the first time? Yes…. but I’ve forgotten that too.

So, here’s some anecdotes….. You might be able to pick some practical bits of information out of them (but I highly doubt it) but just like travelling and culture, anecdotes are best soaked up and enjoyed, not analysed and picked apart. So, sit back and enjoy, or go elsewhere – another popular travel maxim.

Let see what I remember……

We arrived early from Hampi on the night bus and as our train from Goa wasn’t until much later we went to check out another north Goa beach to watch the sun come up. Colva beach, we arrived after a quick rickshaw ride from the bus station. We looked along the long straight beach and observed a large group of locals trawling the beach for rubbish that either might be put to good use and recycled, or just because they wanted to tidy up. After experiencing many Indians attitude to litter I expect it was the first option. Either way, it was a sorry sight.

The tide was a long way out. As it had departed it had vomited up the unmistakable traces of humanity that had been cruelly fed in to it. Plastic bottles, crisp packets, crates and oil bins. It was very much a reminder of the stark contrasts that India throws at you. We passed the time reading and shivering in the cool ocean breeze waiting for the suns warm to pierce the clouds. Slowly one of the beach bars at the entrance to the beach began to show signs of life. The occupants, on finding we weren’t Russian, invited us in with a head waggle and a smile and we happily moved in doors to escape the morning chill. Essentially, we got some food, made friends with the guys who made the restaurant – who regaled us with tales of rude and impolite Russians – and eventually left the beach to find a rickshaw to the train station for a long, long train ride to Jhansi.

The train ride from Margao station to Goa was our longest at around 30 hours (maybe, I can’t remember exactly) on the train. I don’t remember specifics but when we got to Jhansi for our connecting train it was very late and we wanted some sleep. We found a hotel near by the station (I remember we turned left) and grabbed a few hours sleep before getting our next train to Khajuraho.

We got some samosa’s and sat on the baggage holders above the seats which were far more comfortable!

When we got to Khajuraho we found a place to stay and caught up on sleep after the long journey. We stayed at the Yogi Ashram and Guest House I think, I remember the food was ok and the room did the job. We didn’t have high standards by this point. After we’d caught up with some sleep we went for a walk and found a local cricket game. The locals were getting very in to the cricket, while we were entertained with the cows walking around the pitch oblivious to the action going on around them. There were also a couple of motorbikes that decided to drive straight through the game though the players didn’t seem to mind too much. As we watched the game the sky over us grew dark and angry. When the rain started the locals clearly knew it was going to get heavier and within minutes the pitch was deserted and we found cover in a local restaurant and watched the heavens opened.

The next day we hired some bikes from our hostel and cycled around the local temples, we cycled out to the ones furthest away first as the ones closest to us were apparently the most impressive. 

We’d originally been sold the trip to Khajuraho becase of what’s known as the Karma Sutra temples.It turns out these temples had been lovingly carved by some seriously excited people! The photos before at quite graphic – be warned!

Turns out Khajuraho is some kind of temple of sex, the pornography of yester-year. I’m not entirely sure why the stone masons felt the need to carve explicit sexual images depicting orgies and even the fellacio of a horse - though I’m sure it said in my guide book. But, I’m glad they did. This place is awesome! I just hope everything was consensual.

After we had watched the sun go down behind the temples we explored Khajuraho a bit more and found we were there at the same time as a popular arts festival. We watched a couple of dances, had a few drinks and met a few people before it started to rain again….. and we then witnessed the biggest thunderstorm we had ever witnessed from the comfort of a corrugated metal restaurant…. Here’s rob with cameras for eyes.