HONK

I know the world being a small place now, not physically, means many of you who read this will already have been and experienced what I'm about to write about. Horns on Vehicles. From the lowly tinkle of the push bike, to the big bassy, poop your keks, fog horns of the trucks; India's roads are a cacophany of horniness! It was not so long ago that I obtained the right to leagally drive a motorised vehicle in the UK. So I remember that your horn is to be used to advise other road users of your presence. Oh my have the Indians taken this to heart.

As far as I can gather it goes like this, get in your car, start engine, sound your horn, pull out. (Don't indicate just sound the horn and commit.) Approaching a vehicle you want to pass, sound horn. Passing the vehicle, sound horn. If someone's in your way, sound horn. If someone moves out of your way, sound horn in thanks. If somebody won't move then sound horn more. Still no joy, sit on the horn till said annoyance has moved. Coming round a corner sound, sound horn. Coming round a corner, sound horn. Crossing a bridge that's wide enough for one vehicle, sound horn but never slow down.

That last little ditty is key to it all 'never slow down'. The goal of most journeys is to arrive at your intended destination. For an Indian driver once the car is in forward motion slowing down, and dare I say coming to a complete halt, is a true sign of weakness. Slowing down causes the largest singular use of the horn. Want to upset or disgrace a bus driver just cause him to drive under 40km an hour. He'll get out his super horn and blow you off the road!

So needless to say it's noisy on the roads. From the tintinnabulation of the bikes to the resonating base tones of the trucks you are constantly reminded of where you are. I also realised that the over eagerness to use the horn could also manifest from the fact that at least 50% of road users are drunk!

Plains, trains and auto-rickshaws

Here it is the ramble of India has begun. I've only covered a paltry 2600km thus far so not really going a great distance to bring you tales. I want to stay away from the normal day one blah blah, day two yadda yadda. But then you'll not really know what I've been doing. Well since I've arrived here I have probably spent more time in a motorised vehicle than anything else. A variety of different types. Some feel safer than others, but then the others allow all your senses to be assaulted at once!

Delhi was a clean and sanitised affair due to the worlds media being in attendence for the Commonwealth games. This was a little disappointing if i'm honest. Especially when your told such mad stories about the place from everyone else. I'm sure i'll get the full experience when i head back up there in December. I mean I was on the underground zipping from place to place. Not what I expected at all.

My hospitality upon arrival has been second to none. I'm being spoilt by new friends and new Amma's everywhere i go. I'm in Kerala with beaches close by. I'm off shopping for the local male dress called a Lungi tomorrow. More countries where they don't feel the need to wear pants. Just wrap some cloth around you and bob's your uncle. Life will be less sweaty very shortly.



Delhi Train Station



Hang out with your wang out!

Cormacko enjoying the Indian plains.

Train dinners. The wee tub was called ice cream. It wasn't cold or sealed neddless to say we didn't eat it.

Women working the paddy fields.

Somewhere in India

Another stop at an Indian railway station.

Enjoying the 'high' speed train.

I thought I'd seen long trains in Canada. I think India pips them to the post.

Cormacko tucking into a coconut, which he got from the tree. That he expertly climbed with a ladder!

A temple in North Paravur, where we're currently residing with Vizzy and family.