Yet another bus journey
This is probably the most entertaining bus trip I’ve had to Pune. There’s the bus. Ambling at an amiable pace of sixty kilometres an hour. Some witty pieces by Douglas Adams to read, and there’s no Salmon of a Doubt that this is a great book. Then there are the kids ‘playing’ antakshari, whose English equivalent I believe, doesn’t quite exist. In any case, these children are energetically singing off key, while the bus jerkily tries overtaking, neither having any rhythm. There are the tankers, carrying some random hazardous chemical, which have stalled along the road, making progress a drag. I wonder how it must have been for people years ago travelling along the narrower old highway, that took ages. I never experienced that, having always taken the train. Right now, it does help to have functional airconditioning. That and the book is all that’s keeping my sanity intact. Somewhere along the way, the driver decided that he had enough of the travelling tune(less)smiths and offloaded them in the middle of the highway. I wish this was the desert.
