As I write in my notebook we are driving in Rajasthan, en route to Jaipur, having left the hotel at 8:30am just after breakfast. I couldn't resist the Indian buffet so breakfast for me consisted of vadas, pakoras, aloo, cheese roti, sambal and idli.

Leaving Delhi, the traffic was slow-moving. Whilst excited by the prospect of what lay ahead, our stay in Delhi was too short to even scratch the surface of the city, let alone have time to meet any of its people. Before entering Rajasthan we drive along a number of toll roads. We pass through Haryana - a small progressive state – which is characterised, at least form the roadside, by modern glass office blocks and retail outlets.

We finally enter Rajasthan at 11.00am and shortly after, at around 11.20, take a short break at a diner just off the roadside. It has been raining intermittently since we left Delhi, sometimes torrential, causing some sections of the road to flood. It's bright and sunny now.





On the side of the road the brown earth has turned into a rich mud which is churned up by the over-sized tyres of the heavy lorries.

India is a nation on the move economically and transport and haulage is integral to this development.

At various points along the way we see evidence of lorries having unloaded as pick-up trucks, tuck-tucks and cycle wagons are piled high with boxes!






Roadside mechanics
Along the roadside single storey concrete blocks are divided into shops with metal roller shutters. Fan belts hang in one shop, more automotive parts in another, a group of men squat on the floor repairing an axle.

Just after 12 noon we enter Rajasthan and drive through the village or town of Begror where our driver Ratan is from. Just past Behrir we drive through another town where for almost a mile there is a single and sometimes double row of trucks parked some of which are being serviced on the roadside by mechanics working out of small shops and garages.


Their tools are rudimentary and basic, hammers, huge wrenches and spanners plus a tin bowl. The tool of choice seems to be a small club hammer - it must fix most things. The trucks are huge and generally have three to four men riding in the cab.

Driving
Indian drivers are fearless. White lines on the road are seen as advisory, perhaps they are seen as decoration, or perhaps they are not seen at all. There is no lane discipline and vehicles move from lane to lane to overtake. Following the exhortation on the back of the trucks, most vehicles sound their horn when passing these lengthy titans of the road. Jeeps and pickups are often packed full either with women in brightly coloured saris or men with billowing shirts hanging out of the back.

Every vehicle on the road is usually filled to capacity with either passengers or cargo.

Driving, on what we would consider to be the wrong side of the road, seems to make perfect sense to many Indian drivers. Driving on the wrong side is fine, either because the road surface is better, the traffic is faster moving or both. Yet despite being fearless, often in the face of oncoming traffic, drivers are calm and do not seem to suffer the same apoplexy that we do at home when we get cut up or have near miss. In terms of oncoming traffic one of the rules, probably unwritten, is that you need to be able to see the face of the driver of the oncoming car clearly before you take evasive action.

Unfortunately the combination of calm and fearless driving does have consequences and we witness the results.