An Indian ride on the wild side: Khuri→Jaisalmer

The one constant when traveling is that every day is full of new experiences, whether good or bad. After having a run-in with a serious case of Delhi Belly, followed by a sandstorm ruining our dinner in the desert (sand = not so tasty), we were due for some good times. Our return trip from Khuri was just what the doctor ordered.

It was a day full of those adventures that India seems to be so good at providing.  We woke up in the desert 5 km outside of Khuri and enjoyed some tea and delightful chapati before heading back into town on our camels. Once back in town, we packed our bags and said our goodbyes to Badal and the other guest before heading to the bus stop.

When the bus finally came, the sight was surreal. As it pulled up, I noticed a few people sitting on the roof. In a country with a population of 1.2 billion, somehow that actually makes sense. I snap a picture or two with the iPhone and snicker to Akemi. Hoping to squeeze into the bus as a few people get off, we look to the ticket master for direction. He looks at us and points... up.

I feel a little background on Indian buses is in order. We were eased into the mayhem of Indian buses a few days prior on our ride into Khuri. First, they're hard to find. There are no signs for the bus stop, so you just need to know where to stand. Your best bet for finding the bus stop is to ask the locals, but that in and of itself can be a harrowing experience. As with anything in India, this will normally require asking 3-5 people, at least one of whom will inevitably tell you that there is no bus stop or the buses don't run anymore. This is the Indian equivalent of "I don't know."

The bus stop in Jaisalmer was nothing more than people standing in front of a few street stalls. Not only that, but the buses aren't marked and are rarely on time, so you again just have to ask and hope someone knows which bus is the one you're looking for.

When you do find your bus, it will inevitably be crowded to at least twice what the Western sense of "full" would be. When we boarded our first bus, all the seats were taken, and the aisle was full to the brim... or so we thought. The ticket master directed everyone to sit three abreast on every two-seat chair, and we squeezed at least eight onto the rear five-person bench. Even after this, there was no room to walk the aisle with all those standing. I'm so, so glad our packs are small.

So back to our tale, the ticket master points up. Incredulous, at first Akemi sat there hoping it was a joke, but I could tell that this was the only way we were getting back to Jaisalmer on this bus. We head to the back, and I'm the first to climb the ladder. Akemi follows suit.

Can you tell we enjoyed the ride?

Up on top of the bus, it looked every bit as crowded as our first bus was inside. There was a small railing along the outside to keep people from falling, maybe six inches high (15 cm or so). We push as far forward as we can and squeeze out enough room to sit down for the 90-minute ride. Along the way, a few more people amazingly piled in behind us at each stop.

So here we are, sitting on top of a bus, scrunched in between a guestimate of at least 30-35 people. Everyone is chattering away, and just as with our previous journey, someone pulls out their cell phone to blast Hindi tunes to the very limits of his tiny phone speaker. Anytime the bus comes across an overhanging tree, everyone on that side of the bus leans back into us sitting in the middle to avoid getting smacked in the face by branches and thorns. The bus has to stop several times to shoo a cow or goat out of the street. The view is panoramic. This is India.

Ticket master and bus ninja

Topping off our experience, halfway through the trip, we see the ticket master come up the ladder. Rooftop tickets are full price! He somehow manages to make his way all the way to the front and collect everyone's money. Then comes the real kicker—after getting his money, he climbs down the side of the still-moving bus and into the cabin through a window! I glanced down and noticed that there were also passengers hanging out the bus door—THIS time, the bus really is full.

By this time, we were getting pretty chummy with our fellow rooftop riders. Indian people love having their picture taken, so I bust out the iPhone again and snap away, showing them all the pictures and meeting pleased faces of approval. We may have gotten a little more sun than advisable up there, but all in all, I wouldn't trade that experience for the world.

Oh, and Jaisalmer wasn't too bad either. Great little town with great people.

Any other good Indian experiences out there? If so, share!