We moved to the other side of the river. This was a good idea. Set among acres of palm trees and vivid green rice paddies, the few guesthouses on this side are better situated for rest, relaxation and meeting new people. Travelers stay up late talking, playing cards over beer and having a good time. I haven't felt this vibe since Thailand and while some might argue that the small village of Hampi now derives most of its charm from the tourist scene at the cost of some its original local color, it feels really good to be someplace I don't want to leave.

At its peak, the Holy city here rivaled the size and vibrancy of ancient Rome and had a population of 500,000. The ruins of the ancient city and its 2000+ temples are scattered for miles in every direction. Mounds of absolutely massive boulders, teetering precariously and defying gravity, snake to the horizon like the remnants of mountains smashed by an angry god. My first 360 degree view of the landscape from up high left me breathless and emotional; one of those rare but truly precious moments that reminds me how lucky I am to be alive and *here.*

On Saturday morning I got up early and went to the Hanuman Temple, 4 km away from town and 627 steps up the side of a giant granite mound. The temple marks the birthplace of the Hindu monkey god Hanuman and, appropriately, the mound is inhabited by hundreds of extremely cheeky Langur monkeys. One tried to steal my sandwich right out of my backpack but his efforts were thwarted when I caught him red-handed gazing up at me innocently.

Along with the monkeys lives a group of Sadhus who are devotees to Hanuman. Sadhus are holy men who renounce their families and possessions and dedicate their lives to attaining a higher level of spiritual consciousness. They do this by smoking a crapload of hash from sunrise to sunset every single day of the year, using a big fat funnel-shaped device called a chillum.

They fill the chillum with a finely ground mixture of tobacco and hashish or marijuana. The tobacco is usually taken from dissected beedies, which are filterless Indian cigarettes wrapped in leaves that contain pure, unchemically treated tobacco. It's a real treat and makes for great photos to watch them puff away until a cloud of smoke so thick practically blocks out their entire face except their red bulging eyeballs.

I must admit (hey, it's legal to smoke with Sadhus in temples, I think), I tried it myself a couple times. The first time I committed an affront to chillum-etiquette and slobbered on the little cloth they use as a filter (you're not supposed to put your lips on it at all), but they were extremely forgiving and patient while I perfected my skill. I didn't get it quite right until the next day when with my first attempt, I ended up on the floor, giggling uncontrollably in a cold sweat with all the color drained right out of me. I determined it was not the hash but rather a HUGE intake of carbon monoxide from the tobacco that sucked the ogygen right out of my blood and laid me out. Don't worry, that was my last one.

The sadhus are quite affable and fun guys (go figure) and I've been there every single day to visit them. On my second day, Sanjay, one of the temple devotees (but not a sadhu; sadhus don't marry) invited me to his wedding at the temple on Monday morning. I awoke at 6 AM and biked to the temple for the 7 AM wedding puja, or blessing. This involves kneeling before the temple guru who pours a small amount of holy water and a sprinkling of salt on my head and then marks my forehead and hairline with an orange powder. I am still not quite sure what the significance is of all this, but it's fun to walk around with a dot on my head.

Sanjay and his bride were dressed in all white and covered with jasmine garlands. The ceremony was performed seated under a bamboo shade structure overlooking the edge of the hill into the valley below. There were all sorts of unfamiliar rituals and I didn't follow much of what was going on except for the part when one of the sadhus handed me a bunch of rice and indicated that I should throw it at Sanjay and his new wife.

Chris and I have been spending more time apart since we arrived in Hampi, taking some time to be alone and meet new people for the first time since we set out in India. It feels good to have some alone time and also be reminded of how lucky I am to have such a compatible travel companion.

After dislodging ourselves from Hampi, it's off to Goa.