go with the flow ...

We had a long drive from Bikaner to Jaisalmer, so we left very early in the morning. It started off well enough. As we headed further into the desert the landscape continued to change – less and less green – and more and more sand.

We have a great driver – very focused on the road – which is a good thing because you take your life in your hands on these roads:

They are narrow, not in the best condition, everybody speeds, cows, camels, goats and dogs roam freely wherever, whenever and however slowly they feel like it, pedestrians cross from one side to the other at random, and vehicles pass each other constantly; they also ride the wrong side of the street at great speed and move back into the correct lane only when the nose of their vehicle is literally within touching distance of oncoming traffic.

Somewhere around midday everyone needed a bathroom. Ha!!!

Suddenly Rashmi spotted a dhaba (roadside stand). She told the driver to stop and said, “This is where we will go to the bathroom.” I didn’t see anything that even remotely resembled a bathroom – and to be honest even if I had I think I would have swallowed my own urine before I would have used it.

My bladder was at the bursting point so with some trepidation I followed my fellow travelers into the bush. Actually they found some shelter behind the dhaba, but never mind.

Melanie tutored me: “Pull your pants way in front of you … lean back against the wall … bend forward … squat … stick your butt out”. Oy vay, all these instructions!! I had so much to think about I was sure I’d make a mess. I cursed myself because I had bought a contraption – I called it my penis. It’s this contrivance that I found at a travel store. Never mind how it works – suffice to say it’s supposed to be a Godsend for women who find themselves in the exact position I found myself in.

Where was it, you’re asking? In my suitcase. Fat lot of good it was doing me now!

For the most part, I was a star. The only mistake I’d made was to stand on a bit of an incline – it flowed right onto my sandals – but luckily I noticed it before I felt it.

So I’m not a virgin any more. I have now peed in the bush. I can go anywhere.

When we came back from our little excursion Rashmi had ordered some pakoras. I’m ashamed to admit I was afraid to try them. I promised myself before leaving on this trip that I would be careful where I ate and this was just a bit too risky for me. In fact, none of us tried them – and I’m not very sorry. They looked amazing, Rashmi had the whole lot of them and she was fine.

We missed out. Next time I’ll know better. She wouldn’t have eaten them if she’d thought it wasn’t a good idea.

Our little pit stop lasted about fifteen or twenty minutes and we all climbed back on the bus for the remainder of the trip – about another two and a half, three hours.

I don’t know how long into it we were when we had to stop for a security check. That is very common in these parts because we’re quite close to Pakistan. As soon as the driver stopped we could all smell gas.

Namaste, namaste oy vay (which has now become our group refrain).

I guess one of the bumps we hit did in the gas line (by the time this trip is over I will have left my bladder in India – as opposed to having left my heart in San Francisco). Luckily we were very close to a gas station and a tourist stop – bathrooms, food, and shopping. What more could a girl ask for?

While we did all of the above the drivers disappeared with the bus. Weren’t we surprised to come out of the bathroom and see that we had been abandoned??

Rashmi decided we should have tea. And wait. So we had tea. And waited. And waited.

I’m sure thirty minutes went by when the “co-pilot” arrived. A pretty major repaired was required. We were to follow him to the gas station. Our hotel had been contacted and jeeps were on the way to get us. Sure enough, in about ten or fifteen minutes a couple of jeeps arrived – alas no room for our luggage.

Our drivers assured us that the repairs wouldn’t take that long and they’d bring our luggage along later.

The itinerary had us taking a camel ride that night. Clearly that was no longer happening, but the poor guys who had set it up were waiting for us in the hotel – and had been waiting for us for several hours.

Quickly plans were altered. Tonight we’d go to Deshnok Temple and then we’d have a nice walk through the village and meet Rashmi at a restaurant she loves where the locals eat. Tomorrow we’d have the camel ride.

It was 3:30 the following morning when our luggage finally arrived.

A little adventure along the way. Isn’t that what I came for?