Drunken sailor riding in the backrow

We have passed over the two week mark and unfortunately I am starting to get a little tired of the food. Do not misinterpret that I don't like the food, but I am craving, as well as Sam, some type of freshness. There entails the catch-22. You see freshness all over- in markets, train stations, on the streets. Fresh grapes, watermelon, lettuce heads entice you; all you want to do is consume it. Yet, the price you will pay is quite dear. Lonely Planet described that most travelers- 30 to 70 percent- experience the delightful malaise of traveler's diarrhea. Count me to the statistics. Now, mom take your hand off the orbtiz.com flight to Mumbai, I am perfectly fine. I have not been bedridden nor is it hampering walking around the gorgeous city of Mumbai. It is more of an annoyance, as sometimes, I scan the horizon, not looking at Chowpatty beach, but more if there is a suitable restaurant to rush off to.
There are a lot of first time experiences people hit in their lives. Most come at an early age: words, kiss, beer etc. However India has added another first for me: I had a do or die situation with my stomach and ended up going in an alley way about 10 feet from a busy street in Nasik. A humbling experience to say the least. Why am I telling you this, well this anecdote is a good precursor to the rest of the blog.
As doctors, chemist or even the most harden travelers will tell you, the best remedy for my stomach is lots of fluid, rest and maybe some medicine. I disagree- Indian buses make for the best antidote money can buy: Our trip from Nasik to Mumbai literally scared me sh*tless.

There seems to be an art to driving a bus and for that matter any type of transportation in India. I have been used to crazy drivers throughout my travels, buses rocketing through mouse hole spaces in traffic, brakes slamming on about five seconds later than you would. However Indian bus driver seem to relish almost grandstand in their eternal, insatiable quest to pass everyone and go as fast as possible- safety be damned.
With transport here, I have taken more of a Seinfeldian approach. Mostly nervous to full bellied laughing to the whole situation as if the whole situation is playing out on T.V and not something that will lead to imminent danger. There is no escaping from the Indian raceway as even auto rickshaws-think a hybrid vehicle, a cross between a golf cart and a moto- have no fear of other traffic on the road. While absolutely terrifying, I am almost serene- aside from the laughter. Sam, on the other hand, is a basket case. She takes a more active role in this roller coaster of a ride. Her petrified screams of "OI, slow down!" "Slow down, slow down, slow down," or even getting to the point of full out assaulting the driver to "SLOW DOWN" compete with the droning motor of the cars around us- she has on more than one occassion hit the driver.
Buses are a whole different matter and this bus ride proved to be the tipping point for Sam. For me, buses represent adventure, for Sam, buses are more Calvinistic: unavoidable, causing more misery than happiness.
Most of the buses we have been on, have been on country roads- emphasis on country rather than road. Buses charge past cars without heeding any semblance of good driving techniques: passing on a blind curve, passing on a hill, passing when clearly there is a big rig only 100 feet away coming at full board and passing when the traffic, on the opposite side, is passing.
On our trip, the bus took us through the semi mountainous pass to Mumbai. It curled through hills sides; road resembling some like when a person falls asleep while taking notes. Barriers were, to put it nicely, non-exisitent and the side in some places brought on vertigo. Our fearless driver decided that passing on this slender bit of road was the prudent action as speed is the name of the game. The road was packed; cars, buses, trucks on both sides had the same idea: Pass no matter what on this tiny road. At one point at the start, we passed a carcass of a truck that had tipped on the side of the road, "At least he fell that way," Sam said nervously. Although the driver was driving with maniacal intentions, his face was a picture of calmness, almost angelic. In contrast, Sam had transformed into the crazy cat lady from an abandoned house, who happened to be seated next to me- every second uttering random phrases some coherent and some nonsensical talking to no one, someone or everyone: "why is he passing?," "there are cars," "Oh boy here we go again," "they got to have passing lanes, why don't they have passing lanes? and my favorite "elfhiskfhsdjkhsdfsd"
Her body was rigid. Her right hand pinned to the front of the seat gripping the bar like she wanted to break it. Her other hand and feet attempting to push the imaginary brake and pull the emergency brake that we all wish we had sometimes in these situations.
All this time, I have reverted into my laughing stage as my defense to the horror unfolding. About 3/4s of the way there, Sam had overtaken the record of swearing from the anonymous drunken sailor on shore leave: Her count is as follows
Oh F@#k \:10990
F*&king Christ:303
Jeeeeeeezzzzzuuuuuusss: 3947857
In dead patches, when the bus mercifully didn't have to pass, Sam just stared straight ahead, boring a hole in the back of the head of the driver in anger. When we emerged from the mountain pass, it didn't get any better. Now on a two lane highway, the bus driver took off and about 10 times slammed on his brakes narrowly avoiding a major crash.
We arrived safely obviously, but the best moment of the day was Sam exiting the bus. She exited the bus and when she touched solid ground, she emulated as a sailor would have done if arriving on solid beach sand after a horrendous storm; she sank to her knees and kissed the ground in sweet, sweet happiness. Tears of unbridled joy rolled down her white cheeks. Her hands flexing for the first time and slowly opening from the kungfu grip she had on the bar.
Once we got to the hotel, finally breathing, she turned to me and bluntly stated: "we aren't going to be doing that for awhile."
Amen.