Transport

So we finally escaped the humidity of Goa that officially turned me into an Anglo-Saxon puddle, to cruise into Hampi where it was a cool 45 degrees. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! THERE IS NO ESCAPE!

I am in love with Hampi, but will write about it in a couple of days. Now I want to write about something I don't think I've shared with you.....transport. Claudia and I have been adventurous and have been on every type of transport that India can provide, (animals aside), and each time I am entertained or the subject of entertainment for others.

TRAINS

If you have ever seen trains of India in movies it is not exaggerated. I've seen the mob bolting to grab the best seat on the train by jumping on before the train has even stopped on the platform, or one carriage crammed to breaking point with people and all their belongings. This crammed mentality even filters up to second class. After finding our allocated seats I take my place next to the window and wonder why Clauds isn't sitting down. Someone is sitting in our spot. No worries, we show the ticket to indicate that in fact yes, that is our spot. The man on the end of the three seater smiles obligingly, with one hand movement the other two people shuffle up a bit. He points to the seat smiling......the gap is about 3cm.
"You can't fit an arse in there!!" I cried indignantly....and then I'm quiet because I realised I just yelled arse on the train. And so one totters off to allow Claudia to sit where apparently two Indian bottom's could've sat with ease. This is of course no insult to Claudia's arse, but an indication of just how OK Indians are with the complete lack of body space.


AUTORICKSHAW/TUK TUK

This is my favourite way to travel for sure. No seatbelts, open air rushing in, the best views out the side. The drivers have to be crazy because the roads are crazy, but there is crazy and then there's insane. We caught a rickshaw to a resturant and the guy was driving like a freaking maniac. 'Shall I wait for you maam?' I'd rather ride a bullok home, I thought, but smiled and said 'No thankyou'. A couple we had met from our hostel came into the resturant some time after us and we enjoyed a meal together. They said they also had a crazy driver, but I told them with confidence that ours was the crappiest in the crap pile. When we finished dinner they offered to take us back in their rickshaw as they had arranged for their driver to wait. Who should it be but the very psycho who drove US there. Laughing to myself we all piled in for the five minute drive back. Again, drove like a madman and I was holding my hand on the outside of the cab to reassure myself. I had just taken it in to lean across to talk with the couple when we crashed. The driver had rounded the corner and dropped his back wheel into a drain so that the entire left hand side of the car, right where my hand had been, was cruched at an angle onto the wall.

BUS

Ah yes, horrendous to do long trips on a bus in any country. Claudia and I were in seats number 1 and 2, directly behind the driver, for the 8 hour bus trip. Now in India honking is the communication medium for, "I'm coming up behind you", "Don't come out I'm going there first", "You drive like a maniac" and so on. Our driver....our bloody driver honked for EVERY THING!!! No traffic could occur on the road without him tooting. For example, the guy honked when we were stopped at a toll. He honked at the truck in front, the truck carrying hundreds of gas tanks by the way, why? No apparent bloody reason, just because....HE WANTED TO DRIVE ME INSANE! You think I'm kidding? There was nothing on the road, ahead, behind, to the side, nothing. There was a little clump up ahead on the road that was obviously garbage, and he honked. HE HONKED AT GARBAGE PEOPLE! Forgive me father for I have sinned, I imgained ripping his head off and playing vollyball with it for eight straight hours.

Then of course there is the night buses, aka sleeper cells. I wonder if this name is a double entondre being that it is a man sized cell. Or that to be in one for a night awakens within you the 'sleeper cell', your hidden assasin ready to kill randomly and without remorse. That said I really can't complain, it is such an adventure to do all these forms of travel. To sleep on a night bus you need to lie on your back and stay that way. Unlike me who will wake up continually throughout the night on my side with my ear being bashed against the bed with every bump. Then sporting a new matted hairstyle I look refreshed with my upholstry exfoliation.

AIR

Yup, even on an airoplane I can make an arse of myself. In the middle of a long flight I drowsily grabbed my pop top water bottle for a drink, pulling the top open with my mouth my cheeks blew out with the force of pressurised air escaping. I looked like a goddam puffer fish and was so shocked that it took me a few seconds to realise what the hell was happening. Why didn't anybody tell me about this? No going back to sleep after that...

xoxo
Sim