An Indian Bus driver

Have just spent a few lovely days on the beach at Mangalore, which is on the west, Karnatakan coast, usually bypassed by tourists who go to either the Keralan or Goan coasts, consequently, it was blissfully empty. The sand was white, the sea was calm and the food was delicious. On one night we had a special dinner with two kinds of fish, lady fish and something else I've forgotten the name of, clams and crab, which were so fresh that I'm sure I had been swimming with them earlier in the evening. In fact, I think I trod on one of them. The clams were delicious and cooked with a spicy coconut masala which I tried to get the recipe of, but language was a slight barrier. Anyway, the chef did manage to understand that I was keen on the food, which was not difficult, owing to the enormous quantities we ate and the remants seen still clinging to my chin and clothing when trying to discuss recipes.

After the beach trip, we came back to Bangalore in order for me to meet my aunt who has come over to India for a wedding. The mode of transport booked was sleeper bus. This is, in essence, a double tiered (not decker because there is only one floor) bus with seats on the bottom row and beds on the top. The beds would have been very comfortable - if the bus had been stationary.

However, not only were these beds on a moving bus, but they were beds on a moving bus driven by an Indian bus driver, and there is enough on this blog about the habits of these particular skilled individuals for people to realise the significance of that. As if that wasn't enough, this bus driver didn't believe in gears. And the road was very windy. And the majority of the road's surface had been destroyed by overloaded mining trucks driving up and down, creating enormous potholes. And he also, clearly, had an important appointment in Bangalore for which he was determined not to be late . And, I have a very high wobble factor. Net result: it was like spending the night on a trampoline with an enthusiastic seven-year who has eaten too many sugary snacks and needs to work off his energy. And does so continuously for ten hours. Everyone else on the bus seemed oblivious and slept like babies, despite the addition of sleep-preventing, hysterical cackles of laughter coming from me every time we went round a bend and I ricocheted around the little cubicle the bed was in. I think perhaps I shan't travel on those buses anymore.