Last week we rented a motorbike for a couple of days driving to some locations around Puri. Initially, I was concerned with riding a bike in India bearing in mind that most drivers in this country are suicidal.
Indian drivers tend to normally drive on the “wrong” side of the road, meaning against the traffic. Whenever a car is coming towards, driving on the’ “right” lane, the first driver will do the sensible act which is of course speeding up towards the poor guy driving according to the law while constantly honking. Sarcasm aside, it is extremely dangerous and an average of 3000 Indians die daily in traffic accidents.
Nonetheless, we rented a motorbike and found out traffic wasn’t so bad around Puri, although I shrank countless times to the horrific horns of buses and trunks. Besides shrinking, riding a motorbike in India made me feel, once again, that I am a princess or a queen as each and every man, woman or child we passed by waived at us while crying Namaste and Namaskar. The scariest ones were the drivers in the big new fleshy jeeps that drive 189 km an hour. They first honk behind us like maniacs just to let us know they are coming through, I would shrink behind Daniel waiting for the scene to be over but then these well dressed fleshy Indian men (always men) stick their heads out of the window, without really slowing down, screaming “hello sir, Which country? Your wife?”