I have often wondered since arriving in India why we keep putting ourselves in dangerous positions and often try to rank them to find the most dangerous. Walking down a road in Delhi, flying into Lukla, catching a bus, snaking the street in a tin rickshaw etc... They are all dangerous everywhere you go in the world I suppose but I feel the risk is much, much greater in this wonderful country.
And, I seriously think busing might be at the top. It has to be.
We arrived at the bus station early to reduce stress on ourselves before the 10hour bus ride to Manali ahead of us. We opt to take a 'deluxe' government bus as it is dirt cheap and always interesting.. And it's deluxe!
We find our bus easily because we're white and everyone wants to help the white girls. They show us our bus and we find the conductor who checks our pre-booked tickets and help us load our bags in the back. As we walk along the side of the bus to hop on we notice vomit dried to side of the bus on just under half of the windows. Always a good sign and very common.
We go off in search of breakfast while we wait for departure time and after paying 10rupees to use the most disgusting toilet in the world, we are satisfied with a delicious chai (currently ranked number 1 on our top3 chai list) and a parantha.
We board the bus and find our seats. The bus is dirty and even walking the aisle makes you want to shower. Our seats are right at the back and to our dismay the seat in front of one of ours is broken and in permanent recline mode invading our personal space. I go off to find the conductor and explain the situation. To my surprise, he tells us to take seats 9 and 10 - third from the front. Oh yeah! My seat in the window likes to spontaneously recline and then sit upright as it moves with the bus but apart from that, no complaints.
According to lonely planet 'ordinary buses tend to be ageing rattle traps while deluxe buses range from less decrepit versions of ordinary buses to...' Ours was obviously a less decrepit version.
We start our journey. It is a very vomit-inducing ride as we snake our way through the mountains. Do you think that slows the driver down? Heck no. As we turn around blind corners, we take up the whole road, but the driver sounds his horn before each corner to let oncoming traffic know where we are. I suppose it's a comfort that we are one of the biggest things on the road however when off the side is a massive cliff with no safety barriers it isn't really that reassuring. Out the window the scenery is spectacular however, so we try to focus on that for a while. I take some prophylactic anti nausea pills just in case.
We make our first toilet stop and Hannah points out the girl in the front row who has apparently been vomiting and doesn't look so flash. We check out the toilets.. Not really worth mentioning again. They're all the same. As we board the bus again, I notice the front windscreen has huge cracks all over the bottom and up on side. A comforting sign.. It has also started to rain.
There are no 'slow when wet' signs so we continue on at the same frightening pace. Ten minutes into part B of the journey, the girl Hannah pointed out now has her head out the window - looks like a bit of a meerkat though because while she vomits she has to keep an eye ahead and kept pulling her head in so that it wouldn't get knocked off by oncoming traffic and bushes.
Like clockwork she pulls her head in and the girl on our side of the bus in the front row sticks her head out. Hannah and I pride ourselves on having stomachs of steel after nursing general surgical but even we had to close our eyes for 5 minutes after vomiter 2 managed to splash our window two rows back. Ew.
We decide it's much easier just to keep our eyes closed and avoid seeing all near death driving and vomiting and manage to sleep until lunch.
In the afternoon, we stop at the a bus station for 15 minutes so some of the bus patrons get off. We stay boarded and eat a packet of lays and drink a thumbsup while being entertained/harassed by beggars and popcorn sellers who board the bus.
Our conductors change and we take off again. Five minutes down the road, the new conductor gets a phone call and we stop on the side of the road. Accidentally left four passengers behind who catch another bus and get back on. The Indians are all very excited by this turn of events and they are all talking with a lot of raged enthusiasm. The new conductor merely walks to the from cabin with the driver and closes the door separating the two and locks it. Problem solved. The Indians quiet eventually..
And lastly, when we think no more can occur. We are driving along the side of a big pass with a hefty drop below. We came across some stopped traffic so our driver snakes around the side onto the other side of the road to get past. There has been an accident (NO WONDER!) and the other cars are trying to get past also. This time, we don't have right of way so begin to reverse back up the road in a giant bus getting closer and closer to dropping to our death. The conductor is on board blowing his whistle to signal the driver directions and all the Indians are back on their feet excited by all the commotion. Some even get off the bus to go check out what's happening.
We. Are. Frazzled. But arrive safely yet again.
Is it luck? And when will it run out?
Or is it just that India pulses to its own beat?
One that we westerners are not accustom too. The organised chaos that seems to work... In most cases.
Either way, I feel the lonely planet doesn't really prepare you for what is going to happen so this is our uncut version.
Enjoy! X
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