Fascinating Trip !! - or - Ode to Those Who Know No Fear...

Just got back from a 2-day trip to the southernmost tip of India. Where to begin? There were 34 of us, and they packed us into 7 taxi-cabs (don't ask me why they didn't get a bus).
 
Now, there is something (actually, a few somethings) that you have to understand about Indian taxi-cabs. One is that, although they are manufactured recently, they are built according to the models that were all the rage at the turn of the century. So you go around feeling like you're in a classical old British film. Also, you go around feeling really very bumped and battered about, because the roads, in complete contrast to the taxis - WERE evidently manufactured at the turn of the century, and haven't been maintained since then. And of course - old model taxis didn't really have shock absorbers worth a damn...
 
The other thing you have to understand is that Indian drivers (and evidently Indian pedestrians as well) - have no inkling of the concept of fear, at least - not on the road. They (the drivers) also are really extremely fond of their horns, and they're not ashamed to let the world know about that. So you have to picture hurtling through a tropical jungle, on a road that is sometimes (although not always) about the same width as the car you're in (and when it isn't, then you can have first-hand experience of Indian soil and non-existent road-shoulders), and almost never has any markings or traffic signals. The road-builders also evidently had no idea of the meaning of the "straight" concept (way back when...), so that in addition to bumping up and down, you can complete the flying feeling with a back-and-forth motion.
 
Now add the music of constant beeping, of both your own driver, and any other one that may happen to be within hearing distance.
 
Now add in the fact that Indians, like Britons, drive on the left side of the road.
 
Now add in the fact that apparently, everyone in India has the right of way, all the time. Or at least, they think they do.
 
Now add in the fact that Indians, unlike Britons, don't like to wait for their turn to "blend" into the traffic.
 
Now add in the fact that if you can't pass the car in front of you on the right side, the way you might think that you were meant to do - it's perfectly OK to do so on the left side - even if there isn't really any road paved there.
 
Now add in the fact that pedestrians feel perfectly at home on the street, whether on the road-side or smack-dab in the middle of it, and they have a touchingly pure trust that the drivers just behind them really do care for their welfare.
 
And NOW, mix in the final ingredient, of total fearlessness – the driver's, the pedestrians', the other drivers' - in short - everyone else's except your own... This means that you are constantly passing vehicles (beeping all the while) - even when there is a huge, enormous, really BIG bus right there in front of you, coming at you. It means that the motorcycle behind you may decide to pass you while you are doing that. It means that neither your cab, the bus, or the motorcycle - will even glimpse at the thought of possibly slowing down for a fraction of an instant. Rather, they trust that Lord Shiva will help them to squeeze back into the small gap at the left of the road in front of the car being passed - simultaneously with the passing of that bus. And amazingly enough - it actually works (at least, I haven't seen an accident wreck yet, although I'm told that the north is strewn with bus carcasses).
 
And the other amazing thing is that - no matter what happens – nobody every gets upset (unless you count your own quaking fear, but you don't really count, because you're from out-of-town). It's perfectly OK that your front fender brushed the pedestrian's hand as you passed him, and he doesn't feel threatened by it. And while your hair is turning white at the sight of that truck that is carrying five times it's own weight in straw – about one meter in front of you and coming closer really fast - the only emotion your driver feels is amusement at the sight of your eyes bulging out.
 
OK, this letter is getting really long. I'd love to go on, but you may need a rest, now that we've passed through the roads of the jungle. So maybe I'll stop here, and continue tomorrow (or the next day - Indian time means that when you set a time - the scheduled event may possibly happen AFTER that time, but definitely not BEFORE).