So I get to India. As soon as I arrive I met some old faces who helped my not so conscious mind navigate our way to the hotel operated vans.
Soon I realize that the roads of India is a bit different. I unfortunately don’t have a picture of this, but there sure was a tree growing right in the middle of the road. Straight up…
The hotel was only 5 minutes away from the airport. Once we arrived at the gate, the car’s hood was opened and inspected. Peculiar I thought, but I remembered that I was in India. The hotel guards then proceeded to open our doors and this dopy looking mutt sniffed at our feet. I thought “cute”.
At this point, all I could wish for was a nice shower and a couple hours of sleep which I was promptly granted.
The hotel itself was a marvelous thing. Bottled water everywhere and safe good food at the hotel restaurant. What else could I ask for? Better than my bachelor pad by a million marks (I wish I was in the hotel when I got back to Seattle….We’ll get back to this). Soon after my nap, I was awakened and informed that the party was to start. That night was longer than I had expected. With my wits still not at 100%, I proceeded as any sane 20 something would to the open bar. It was awesome.
This is where my memory gets a bit fuzzy. I don’t really remember what time I woke up the next day or what I really did the next morning. You might be able to guess why.
The party continued for another day at the hotel before we traveled to the village where the wedding was to take place. This means that we were on the road again.
Our trip was mentioned to me as being somewhere between two hours to three hours. Obviously at this point I needed to rethink the reality that is IST. What is IST? I learned this from the bride actually. IST = India Standard Time. This means that any number of hours or time mentioned add at least and hour.
The important point here is “add at least an hour”. At least.
There were three buses that took all 200 of us from the hotel to the village where the wedding was to take place. I was initially on the first bus with a friend, but I thought to myself, “What the heck, why not just wait and ride on the last bus”. So we got some tea and got on the third bus. This bus was the yellow bus.
Well, this yellow bus was like a cross between a super hard suspension street racer and a school bus; if a yellow Lamborghini Gallardo and the Magic School bus had an illegitimate child, this would be it. By that I mean, we were bouncing in the back seats and getting off the ground at least 2 inches every time we hit a bump. This was like a ride in Disney world, but on the highways of India.
And yes, the prideful highways of India. Engrish isn’t just for the Japanese you know.
By the second hour, according to a friend’s iPhone, we were only half way. After a short pit stop, our bus driver starts driving furiously through diversion after diversion on the Indian highway. Much of the outside reminds me of New Mexico; a lot of low brush vegetation in a dry dessert like environment.
Road construction is happening everywhere so the roads are not only full of diversions, but are unpaved at points. Also the road are full of interesting distractions. Occasionally you find some gems like this:
Finally we inch closer to what I presume to be near the village of the wedding. At this point, the driver must be pretty desparate to get us there. Well, here’s as the title says; we get stuck under a rail line/bridge. As I stare blankly out the window of a narrow road we’ve just turned into, I hear a screaching noise from the front of the bus. The short cut may not have been the best idea.
I couldn’t stop grinning as the events continue to evolve. After about ten minutes the driver decides to take the air out of the front tires in order to lower the vehicle. Classic move.
We were soon on our way again. We take another 40 minutes before we get to the village. Most of the 40 minutes isn’t spent transporting us, but filling up the air on the front two tires of the bus while parking the bus with it’s ass out into the middle of a busy 4-way intersection. All said and done, the Yellow Magic-Lambo bus took 5+ hours to get to its final destination.
I guess things don’t always have to line up for it to work out. I really enjoyed the ride as a slightly dangerous, but definitely a crucial part of the experience.
I would love to drop a typical Seattle (Camry) driver onto the streets of India. They would be screwed in minutes.
To be continued….