on the buses….

Another bus journey, another 999 reconstruction. Arriving at Ajmer bus station to purchase tickets for the bus to Bundi we encountered one of the more militant style of bus conductor who proceeded to rush, rush, rush us to buy tickets and then insisted we CLIMB on top of the bus to stowe our rucksacks on the roof (without tethers or bungy cables!). Andy drew the short straw and somehow managed to lug the corpse like bundles up the ladder. For the next bumpy 5 hours or so we imagined the bags tumbling from the roof into a rocky ravine below, but a midway refreshment break gave us an opportunity to check, and lo and behold, the bags remained on the roof. However, when we reached Bundi bus station the usual bun fight ensued of every man and his rabid dog trying to board the bus before the departing passengers had had a chance to exit. All to the usual cacophony of shouting, honking and barking. We were pinned in by a, how can we put this kindly, toad like indian granny which meant we were almost the last to exit, but of course we had to retrieve our bags. By the time Andy was half way up the ladder the bus was already moving. Bella in fits of hysteria began running alongside, hammering on the side of the bus and shouting ‘He’s on the roof !, He’s on the roof!’ much to the amusement of the local crowd who always seem to amass at moments of impending tragedy… Luckily the bus only travelled about 4 metres before stopping to let more people on but for a split second we  thought Andy was on his way to rucksack heaven. Thanks go out to another mysterious guardian angel rickshaw driver with more than a whiff of Billy Conelley about him who then rescued the neurotic English folk and delivered us to our hotel unscathed.