After gathering our thoughts and sharpening up for a day, we hit the road for a trip South West to the province of Rajastan - which borders on Pakistan- and the wild pink city of Jaipur. At first, outside of Delhi, things were pretty much as you'd expect - a dual carriage way heading into the great beyond, quite a bit of traffic (though unusually for us, a lot of people riding on top of vehicles, which seemed a bit precarious).

Aiden, strapped in, starting to misbehave. (Raj handles misbehaviour x10 - Raj is unfased).
OK, so things aren't quite what you'd anticipate now in the early dusk. One of the lanes of the highway have been taken over by guys with flags - who are walking - many of them bare-foot (click on the pic and you'll see). Raj says they will be walking for five days, so don't expect this to pass. The other lane is taken up by very large colourful trucks, also going at walking speed. They advise you to "Blow" and "wait". More wait than blow, I can assure you. (In the context of India blow refers to hooter. And it's not like people need to be told; a hooter is to an vehicle in India like the wheel; kind of central to the whole way you go about things.) The other drivers (of vehicles other than trucks) get a dose of Transkei taxi driver fever, and start freaking out, ramping through the dongas on the side of the road. Not Raj. Raj stays cool; Raj navigates. Raj, somehow, overcomes the highway of trucks and guys on a mission to nowhere with flags.
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