Just when you would think I should be over travelling by bus in India, I planned my trip to Goa a little too late to get the train. So bus was the next best thing. Some of the most popular train routes in India get booked up so you need to plan more than a week in advance to get some of these trains.
This was sold as 12 hours from Ernakulam to Goa, as I was in Munnar I arranged a tuk tuk to bring me back down the mountain and to my bus. I’m not even sure how to tell this story, it started with the tuk tuk. The plans were made so there was plenty of time to do the run, I made the drop off point clear. It was a drop at the bottom of a flyover in essence, a flyover I would expect the tuk tuk driver to know or at least people in the local area. Straight face.
I think I mentioned this before but in my experience in India, no one will tell you they can’t help you or that they don’t know the answer to your question. They would rather make something up or send you on a journey tons similar location than say, I don’t know. Then you have the other problem, tuk tuk drivers don’t like to ask for help or directions. Maybe I’m localising this too much and this is the age old iknowmywayanywhere man syndrome.
You can probably tell where this is going, but all of the above happened so 20 minutes after the departure of my bus was due I was calling the office for the umpteenth time to find out the bus was still there at this flyover, and 10 minutes later when we finally found the flaming flyover it was still there. I frantically boarded the bus 30 minutes after the departure time. I hate been late so I apologised as a boarded.
After all that I look around for the onboard toliet that must surely be on a 12 hour bus ride. Errm, Nope. So we hold it, wait and pray the scheduled stop is soon enough. 3 hours later, I’m about to combust and this is my introduction to the squat toilet. Fab.
Nothing I read did or could have prepared me for the feat of technical expertise, strength and skill that need to come together to stop you from making going to the loo a personal trauma.
The bus continues on its way north parallel to the coastline of Kerala most of the way, although this is an overnight bus, sleeping is a pipe dream as the roads are bad and drivers drive like rest of the country does. 20 hours later I’m in Goa, exhausted and need to get a transfer to my hostel Asterix on Vagator beach.
As I’m stepping off the bus, a man gets on walking up the stairs towards me shouting “Taxi!” in my face, I holla back no, so that is can get past and get my bag and my bearings. Bloody pushsy, he is asking me while I’m putting on my back pack, and now there are more of these unofficial taxi drivers swarming around this bus.
I’m agitated, hit and tired and now I’m being followed and asked where I’m going, I offer the road and ask how much, “600 rupees!” Its 11km away and thanks to Google maps and a data connection I knew that was a fact, he told me 20km, this immediately pissed me off so I told him just that and walked away, as I do the price is dropped to 400. Instead, of being happy by this immediate discount, the dishonesty gets to me more than the hot tired agitation that would drive most people to accept the “bargain”. I walk over to the tuk tuk drivers and get a similar price 400, tuk tuks are about 30 – 40% cheaper than taxis in my experience so far, so I know he’s having a bubble and leave him to it after asking how he came to that price and hearing his rate per kilometer.
I go into the bus station for an ATM and to ask what the price of a taxi should be, 300 rupees is the answer but; “why you wasting money, get the bus!” he tells me. Genius, he’s right, I was tired but not happy that these people were so intent on ripping me off that the bloody bus means none of them get any fare from me. Rob another fool but that day, I was not she.