66 Hours

66 hours. This is how long I’ve spent in buses (or other assorted things with wheels that technically serve the same function as buses) over the first 3 weeks of the trip.

Mostly riding the bus is about as devoid of excitement as watching rocks grow, but here are some random highlights:

On one trip I belatedly noticed that the floor was wet, and my backpack was soaking it up. The seat next to me was empty, so I put the backpack there. Then the bus started filling up, and eventually my backpack had to cede its seat to a young woman. When the woman sat down, she froze for a second, and I realized that the cloth seat must have soaked up the water from the bottom of my bag. The poor girl spent the next hour or so sitting leaning on one cheek, trying to avoid getting wet. To no avail. When she got off the bus, she had quite a sizable wet spot on the back of her jeans. I know it’s wrong, but I had to stop myself from cracking up.

Just a few days ago, a little boy was casually walking up the aisle of the bus, bored and exploring as little boys are wont to do. Then the bus driver had to brake suddenly (probably because a random chicken decided that this was the time to cross the road), and the little tyke launched forward down the aisle in hyperdrive. The kid moved like he was on crack in fast forward. This caused a collective gasp among the passengers and thankfully one of those seated near the front was able to scoop the little spaz up before he got in real trouble. Of course the bus driver then started yelling at the mother.

On another trip I sat next to a man with clear sleep deprivation issues. He had the aisle seat. Whenever he would nod off, sometimes the movement of the bus would lean him into the aisle, and he would tip forward and flail about as he woke up to catch his balance. Needless to say, for the passenger on the other side of the aisle, the sight of a man rushing towards him and then suddenly gesticulating wildly really freaked him out. This was so entertaining that I would find myself watching the road and really looking forward to upcoming turns that might send my neighbor flying off on another one of his somnambulant fits…

Comments (3)

Ron OpenshawDecember 12th, 2008 at 8:17 am

If you know what to look for, watching rocks grow can be both fascinating and exciting…

J. OkrayDecember 13th, 2008 at 7:33 am

lol, he’s right…

Rocks are nature’s record-book. They can tell many fascinating stories — you just need to know how to read them!

LoneRunnerFebruary 9th, 2009 at 12:08 pm

The train from Chennai to Kolkata took 30 hours and I made it two ways. Now the 5 days bus excursions to the most southern points of India, like KunyaKumari (Cap Comorin) then to Bangalore, Mysore and back to Chennai.

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