We hopped on the bus from Dunche to the Du at about 6.30 in the morning, and thinking we had fairly good seats with plenty of room and with some Bollywood music pumping on the stereo , I couldn’t help but get into some bum wiggle dancing. It looked to be an exciting journey! But much to my dismay, pretty soon after Dunche, the bus driver, not content with the money he was making from the passengers already on the bus, kept stopping to fit as many extras on as he could. So at every small town the bus bashing boy became the bus advertisement boy, and would ask if anyone was going to the Du, and if so would push them on.
We soon had more than a bus full and a roof full; not just of people, but of chickens and dogs and rice bags and kerosene….and when we thought it was impossible that he would stop again for there was no way more people could get on, another person would look sheepishly at us from the street, and then do just that, get on. The stench and the heat just kept getting worse,.
Just to make things even more uncomfortable, the man behind me started leaning forward and out my window to clear his throat and spit out! I was more than grossed out. Then the stereo became stuck on the same Bollywood tune I had thought was so good... And as we drove along, the ridges became steeper and steeper with a thousand metre drop on one side, and a road just wide enough for the bus. Our maniac bus driver didn't seem to notice as he would try to overtake anyone that would not keep up wtih him and his hast. I squeezed Nic's hand as we went along and thought, I love you, this is it, thanks for the good times...if you last send my love to my family but amazingly enough we arrived at the Du unscathed.
We soon had more than a bus full and a roof full; not just of people, but of chickens and dogs and rice bags and kerosene….and when we thought it was impossible that he would stop again for there was no way more people could get on, another person would look sheepishly at us from the street, and then do just that, get on. The stench and the heat just kept getting worse,.
Just to make things even more uncomfortable, the man behind me started leaning forward and out my window to clear his throat and spit out! I was more than grossed out. Then the stereo became stuck on the same Bollywood tune I had thought was so good... And as we drove along, the ridges became steeper and steeper with a thousand metre drop on one side, and a road just wide enough for the bus. Our maniac bus driver didn't seem to notice as he would try to overtake anyone that would not keep up wtih him and his hast. I squeezed Nic's hand as we went along and thought, I love you, this is it, thanks for the good times...if you last send my love to my family but amazingly enough we arrived at the Du unscathed.
shadows of people on the roof of the bus
Great job you two... and we love the photos ! We're looking forward to following more of your wonderful experiences....
ReplyDeleteLove Bertrand, Jade & Miro xxxx
Hi Nick & D.
ReplyDeleteYour decriptions brought back memories of Bus Trips Elli and I took in Nepal and India. We too simply cast our fate to the wind and fortunately emerged unscathed. Our 16 hour bus trip from Udipur to Mombai overnight had the big advantage of being in the dark. Out of sight, out of mind! On both trips our main focus was trying to keep our feet off the floor as the "swill" would wash up and down as the bus accelerated and slowed. Our advice is to close your window when people in front of you put their heads out.... You never know what the wind will blow in!
See you soon.
UJ.