Google delivers info underload on road to ancient culture

WE TOOK A TRIP to Hampi or Vijayanagar, home of the very wrecked but utterly mind blogging Empire of Karnataka but while we were on the road to nowhere we looked for Google signposts to speed us on our way.

Sadly, there is something a little awry in the wonderful wibbly world of search engine optimisation.

Bung Vijayanagar into the slot in Google and as with so many other topics these days, you're up against Wikipedia. Can you trust Wikipedia? Just a little way down from the two Whackypedia entries is a chunk from the Encyclopaedia Brittanica which naturally gets cut off before its prime because the compilers would like you to pay for well researched scholarly articles which presumably require well educated scholars and professors who need to fill their faces with food and get a bed for the night, like the rest of us.

Which made me wonder whether Google, Web 2.0 and the Whackypedia are promoting the first great descent into cultural barbarism of the 21st century - and where any piece of information is as twitteringly good as the next, or as bad.

Naturally, this gentle rant, dear readers, is by way of a prologue to some pix of Vijayanagar, a Hindu kingdom that lasted for a couple of centuries until the inevitable back stabbing finished it and the civilisation and city were abandoned to their fate, swept over by mud, and the sands of time.

Hampi/Vijayanagar is not yet very well connected and so far no multiplexes with five star hotels have arrived, meaning it's a bit of a trek to get there, one way or another. The trekkers have got there - on the side of the river opposite the ancient ruins, a Chill Out Zone has arrived, complete with crystals, backpackers from Goa and a slightly buzzy but far from intimidating atmosphere.

There's a strong Israeli contingent of backpackers in the Chill Out Zone

You cross the river in a leaky boat for the sum of 10 rupees, accompanied by backpackers, the odd Mageek, and some India Honda motorbikes, then making your trek up to the old city.

The vast complex is near impossible to do in one day, but we bravely had a bash at that and not having any sunburn cream on we're a living beacon to the testimony of sun and sand a couple of days after. We haven't time or space here to document the Whole Monty, but here's a couple of snaps to give you a quick shot of Vijayanagar as is.

Apparently you ain't been to
Vijayanagar until you've seen the triple headed Nandi in the
Virupaksha Temple

Unlike the vast majority of the other 2,000 plus temples in Hampi, the Virupaksha (Shiva) temple escaped destruction and is still a thriving pilgrimage spot.

One of the four great bazaars
attached to one of the four great temples
of Vijayanagar. The channel was alive and well in 15th century India

Portions of the ruins of old Vijayanagar have been repopulated by the channel eager to sell tourists Cokes, trinkets, and paraphernalia here in the 21st century

A great chariot outside
the ruins of perhaps the most
beautiful Krishna temple at Hampi. The stone
wheels turn, 'cor blimey

What's more amazing than the beautiful chariot above, is the temple itself. It includes 56 columns made of granite which each have a distinct note, so that in the times of yore, temple attendants could play music by rapping the pillars with sticks. How did they do this? No one appears to know.

Vijayanagar, at its peak, occuped 64 square kilometres, had seven walls within each other, and a million soldiers, yet after it was sacked it was abandoned, and the archaeologists are still digging up temples, artefacts, incriptions, jewellery, gold and lots of stuff.

Our point being that as we're now in the digital age, there is a serious risk that our descendants may find that if they go on Google content, provided they're able to access it, 21st century culture was predominantly occupied with hotels, Britney Spears, and Intel's Penryn, whatever that might have been, presided over by a strange guild of Technology Marchitecture Journalists who covered every twist and turn of what appeared to have been nothing more than the sands of time running out.

Now who's the monkey?