Now you find yourself in a foreign land, having no idea where you are, and no idea where you need to be, with a driver that produced a Weatherford logo at an airport, and does not speak a word of English! Relax? Yea maybe.
The cab ride led to rural areas. The city streets of Mumbai were intimidating enough, but out in the sticks things were different. Not better, different. In India, speed limits are reduced due to the condition of the roads, and the variety of traffic. The road is shared by everything from pedestrian, bicycle, moped, something they thing is a motorcycle, three wheeled taxis, passenger cars, buses and heavy cargo. 18 wheelers? Forget it! Lanes are seldomly marked, and traffic signals are non-existent. Speeds are reduced for all of these reasons, but traffic is much too close for comfort in my experience. The success of transportation in India relies on INCHES of separation, and a constant tooting of your horn. Many commercial vehicles display signs or painted markings that state HORN OK PLEASE. The horn seems to be the only way to convey your presence and you intentions!
In the back of this cab, fearing for my life, I try to relax and enjoy the countryside as it rolls by. I fear for my life, because if I wanted to take advantage of someone, I would drive them out to the middle of nowhere and leave them to fend for themselves. This was exactly what I beagn to think this driver was up to... After a half hour or so, traffic comes to a complete stop. I wonder what is up ahead that stopped everything, but cannot see around the cargo truck in front of us. At a standstill, I look over the crowd of pedestrians and others awaiting their return to travel, and begin to get suspicious of their intentions. About this time, my driver sets the hand brake, ignores me completely, exits the car and begins walking back down the road in the direction that we came!
WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!!
Funny thing, he walked about thirty yards back down the road, stepped down into a ditch / gully, and was obviously relieving himself of some bodily pressure. I had to laugh @ my concerns, as he faithfully returned. The traffic jam? A train!! One that I began to realize would interrupt my daily journey back and forth to work from the hotel.
And I was worried!
