Helicopter Junior is in India backpacking with two mates - I just thought I'd share with the backroom his friends report of the latest bus trip they took -
' As we rattled along (the state government buses don't run to the wanton excess of providing suspension), we took part in some of the most audacious overtaking manoeuvres I have ever seen. In one memorable swoop, our bus took on three goods lorries, taking the first two, swerving in front of that second to narrowly avoid an oncoming coach, and looping out again to thoroughly skin lorry number three. I needn't have wondered any longer why the conductor, experienced in such matters, had taken a moment as he boarded to remind his god that he was on the road again, and needed a watchful eye ... '
Should I be worried?
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Yes it's interesting how the population of a country with a horrendous mortality rate still put their undaunting faith in the Allmighty to protect them.
BTW I hope Hj took plenty of wet wipes and brown trousers ;)
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The curse of the 'Delhi belly' has already struck and been overcome - apparently for the equivalent of around £2 a local doctor provided enough drugs ( anti diahorrea version ) to stun a horse.
The account of their journeys on three wheel motor rickshaws with mad driver had me a bit worried also.
They advise that Indian traffic lights are quote ' purely ornamental'
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After three visits to India I can vouch for all the stories you are hearing! Might is right, so going far in a tut-tut (autorickshw) is a precarious business. Overtaking is a constant requirement - imagine moped on left being overtaken by tut-tut which was then overtook by the 20 seater bus we were in, on a road not wide enough for three, but that's what verges are for! Lights are an optional extra and tyres are not considered a replaceable item, once fitted never removed!
The overtaking manouvers sound horrific, but with such bad roads and low powered vehicles the speeds are never that high, giving plenty of time to avoid oncoming traffic. My concern is the latest generation of vehicles which are entering the market and replacing the architypal Hindustans are of western standard (Ford Fiestas, Corsas, Mercedes, Tata Indica (new Rover)) which are capable of faster speeds. Once these become commonplace the accident rates will soar.
As for local buses - were they ever brand new? I always wondered if they were built looking battered!!
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Once, when on holiday in Athens, on the tourist transfer from airline to hotel bus, we had a similar experience. I noticed that every time the driver went for a space I judged too tight, or downright dangerous, he reached out and touched one of the holy pictures which surrounded his windscreen. Seems efficacious, I'm still here.
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No wonder there's so much chaos in the world - the Almighty must be fully occupied making micro-adjustments to space and time in order to preserve those Eastern members of his flock who are rash enough to use public transport.
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Had a similar experience whilst working on a seismic crew in a remote area of Turkey and in Abu Dhabi some years ago. Our local drivers used to do this but explained they were putting pressure on the windscreen because doing so reduced the likelihood of it being broken by any stones thrown up from the road surface. It sounded convincing at the time but then us foreigners were all praying that we wouldn\'t get lost in the desert or plunge to our deaths down a gorge most of the time anyway :-)
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I recall something similar taking a bus down the mountain road from Srinagar in Kashmir during one of those periods when India and Pakistan were chucking ordnance at each other. The entire bus including the side windows had been liberally covered with mud for camouflage purposes, and the Sikh driver was driving like a man possessed, especially on the bends of the mountain pass. When I commented on this the elderly gent sitting next to me remarked "much better that he is fast driving, so that the danger will be over sooner".
Another feature of Indian provincial roads is that they often only have tarmac wide enough for one vehicle, so that when another comes along each is supposed to give way by planting 2 wheels on the dirt edge. I said "supposed"....
Cambodian buses are the scariest I've ever known. They drive on the left in that country and the bus driver will be staring out of a postage stamp piece of glass through a forest of Buddahs and what-all to begin with. He will position himself well to the left of the wheel at about 30-40°. The seat is designed so he can do this. The reason given is that it is the "spirit" of the bus that is in control (everything in Cambo has a "spirit") and the driver is merely his servant.
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Ahhhh. careering over the dunes with a mad (but very affable) Sikh at the wheel. Happy days :-)
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Ah, did you have the radio with classical music on? Was he a playing Hayden Sikh?
Sorry.
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Apology accepted :)
Seriously though the Sikh (and even more so his Bedouin colleagues) really could drive those Toyota pick-ups. God knows how they knew where we were most of the time - we didn't and we were surveying the place !
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Latest news from the India weblog of my sons friend Ben ( he hopes to become a journalist) It sounds like another interesting journey!
'The plan was to get the bus and we camped outside the hotel gate, ready to flag it down, steeling ourselves for the rattling rollercoaster to come. But before the bus arrived, something so much more fun picked us up. A chap called Daan Singh was driving down to Udaipur anyway; did we want him to take us there in his cool old-style jeep, for only a little more than the bus fare? Er, you bet we did! The boyz hopped into the back, while I sat up front to become better acquainted. In fact, we were to become extremely well acquainted. As Mr Singh passed through each village on the way, his cries of "Udaipur, Udaipur!" attracting anyone and everyone who wanted to go any distance that way - either to the next village, or all the way to the town itself. He was seemingly a known character and it transpired that his brother is the manager or custodian of the Jain Temple; we were introduced as we passed by. Anyway, the jeep soon filled up with unquantifiable numbers of people: a Rajasthani tribesman in a big red turban in the back with the lads, a chap with his toddler child upon whom James tried out his phrasebook Hindi, an elderly lady in a vibrant green and blue sari. At one point there was four of us in the front; it had got to the stage where I was pressed right up against Mr Singh, my legs straddling the gearstick, with any foray into second somewhat awkward, at least from my cultural perspective! All of this as we snaked up winding hill roads with barren tree-studded slopes dropping away vertiginously, onto a cultivated plateau with herds of animals, crops in the fields, and, surreally, dry stone walls,that could almost have placed us in the Peak District, had it not been for the odd towering palm. It was a marvellous journey, and, though driver and fellow passengers had barely a smattering of English, a good time was had by all. '
I just thought you backroomers trapped on the motorway in snow and ice would be pleased to read that motoring in some parts of the world can still be fun and friendly.
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