My sleeper bus bounces along haphazardly, through a beige world of rocks and hills. A variety of shades of green are present, distinctly lacking vibrancy, in the hazy afternoon sun. Fronds of olive-green ferns, co-ordinate themselves with the army-green battalion of leafy trees; sky-scraping palms tower above, their umbrella of flora jutting out in all directions, the Side Show Bob of this rural terrain. Hardy, spiked, branches poke up in tightknit clusters, appearing like candelabras on the table that is the sandy mounds, which line the Bombay-bound road. In the distance, dusky, grey hills, form a carpet that spreads as far as the eye can see. The tawny brown earth glows with a rusty-copper tone, illuminated slightly by the descending sun. Rocks, boulders and stones litter the roadside, adding a river of slate-grey to the brown and green backdrop. Now and then small, redbrick buildings pop up, corrugated tin roofs, pinned down by large, jagged rocks, the only apparent security in covering these shed-sized shanti shacks. The only sign of life comes from motionless washing lines, dotted with bright bits of fabric, pegged out by a mother’s hands. Quickly another, rather more ominous, signal of human life registers - tons of disused, plastic bottles and mountainous bags of waste. An accumulation of local folks’ day-to-day existence forms scattered piles, left for a waste disposal solution that is yet to, or may never, arrive.
The deep hum of the double-decker sleeper bus, bellows up from the tarmac below, occasionally overpowered by the roar of a bright yellow tractor, appearing to float backwards as it passes the open window. The smell of the Earth fills the cool, breezy air; a smell of dirt and dust, and nature. With attention, a cacophony of differing horns cans be detected, varying in pitch and tone, all screeching out their presence, alerting each other of their advancement, weaving together in an uncalculated yet synchronised flow.
Travel around India is easy, with private buses being an affordable and swiftly organised approach to getting around. Sleeper buses double up as accommodation; waking up and stepping off into a new location, provides a stimulating jolt of happy anticipation, quite difficult to be beaten. Bunks are amply sized, couched by a soft(ish) mattress, curtains and sliding glass doors. Privacy is A* and usb-port charging outlets provide in-house power for all devices to whittle away the time as you please. Periodically buses take pit-stops, pulling up with a shudder at what could be likened to a roadside service station in the West. Wallahshop on touting water and tea, or rush along pass the windows outside, bearing deep fried snacks or namkeenof some description.
I’m yet to experience the train, leaving it too late with my booking for this journey to secure a seat, but as a solo female traveller, there is no complaint I could possibly make about this transportation system and would recommend it highly to any wander-lusting considerate. I have also come to conclude that non-AC is my personal preference, the offensive jets of cold air, undesired during these colder months. Plus, this also allows for a sliding window, to the outside world, it’s opening enhancing the journey through this sensory rich land.
I am heading south from Udaipur to Mumbai, where I will idle the day away, before hopping on another overnight vessel, delivering me in Goa. From there we’ll see what is to come…
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