Easy rider for dorks

We are both tired and sunburned. M blames it on the Malaria meds, while I think that we don't sleep enough in the middle of the day. In an hour we hop on a Kolkatta bound train and try to hit the lights right and avoid bribing anyone to get our sorry butts into Bangladesh. Wish us luck with the folks at the embassy. From what we've heard, we'll have to pay a collosal $100 to get a Bangladeshi visa for 2 weeks. Even the Scottish couple we met a few days back thinks that we are nuts, but something about Dhaka is calling.

My hands are glossy and swollen, my toes are raw and bright red, but it was like Easy Rider (for dorks) with the Scooter today. We rode an hour up to the beaches near Konarack and then made our way back to Puri and bounced almost to Bubaneswar to visit Pipli. We were on the road all day. It was amazing, we became one with the traffic flow. Using the tiny horn to broadcast our location to Big Assed goods carriers and toddling little girls alike.

Although, I wanted to take the 100cc yamaha motorcycle, my lack of motorcycle driving skills prohibited it. On the scooter, we moved slowly at first, but made our way up to pretty damn fast. On the way out of town we were passed by a young woman on a bike. We were not passed by any cows. We wore helmets. I was spit on once.

It made me want to buy a motorcycle (again). There is nothing more envigorating than the rush of hot air as a goods carrier comes within 5 feet of you moving in the opposite direction. On scooty (the model of our scooter) we just had to hit the horn and follow the edge of the pavement.

We both wore helmets... We were outcastes on the Orissan highway. Spacemen with inflated heads that everyone stared at. My helmet was three sizes to large, so it probably wouldn't do to much for my brain after the inital impact, but it made for good indian head-nodding action*. Whenever I got a stare, I just stared back and gave a slight wiggle. Perfect.

If you can imagine two bobbleheads going down the highway on a beat-up dusty black ride, dodging bicycles, ox-driven carts, herds of things and the occasional monkey, that was us. Our life is better now. If we can survive Orissan roads on scooty, we can do anything. Dear reader, think of a better way to spend 300 RS for a day's entertainment (no hash, pot or opium even!) and I'll give you a kiss... How much are Playstations anyway?

* We often talk about the head-nod. It is a south indian(?), subconscious body movement type of thing that as farners, we get a big kick out of. It is similar to a nod of acknowledgement, but it is a side to side wiggle. It is not cool to head-nod in Kolkatta, but in Mumbai it is essential. We'll see about Bangladesh.