Travel has never been my forte. Especially on a motorcycle. I’d been on sub-100 km rides on my little 110cc steed back when I was young and stupid. Almost every one of them to my grandmother’s place 40 km away from home. The machine was underpowered, the seat was uncomfortable, and my hands and feet would ring like a tuning fork at the end of every ride. Not a very pleasant experience. Neither have birthdays been big. A few unsavoury experiences that coincided with my birthday have made me believe that my birthday is jinxed, leaving me with a bad aftertaste at the mere thought of it. I’ve always taken both travel and birthdays with a grain of salt – unless prodded and pleaded by my friends, I try not to engage in either. So, this year, I decided to ride to Hampi for my birthday. The Journey Hampi has always been on my mind for quite a while now. Memories of the boulders and ruins kept coming back to me like flashes from a past life. I’d been to Hampi on a family trip long ago –
Injurious to health if taken seriously. Potential NSFSP, read at your own discretion. Don't tell my mom.