…from the perspective of a European woman
Can you imagine something even better than sitting on a bus in India? Yes, it’s riding a scooty in India!
Since my beloved Honda Transalp named Paula Dora is sitting in my father’s garage during the winter break, I am more than delighted about the importance of two-wheelers in India.
So let me tell you the reasons why I think riding the scooty is a great thing: It gives you the freedom to come and go wherever you want, whenever you want. It saves you a lot of arguments with the tuktuk drivers, who always overcharge you just because you’re a foreigner. You won’t get hot while driving, because of the natural air conditioning (but you get burnt very badly if you don’t put on sunscreen and drive around hours and hours in the scorching midday sun). And just like in the bus, once I am in motion, all my thoughts, especially the circular ones, just untangle in a natural way and my mind becomes free of all burdens.
Personally, I would classify myself as a decent driver, but only without a passenger. As a duo, I prefer to be in the back, where I can fully enjoy the ride and also have a good excuse, to fondly snuggle up to my driver when going out for ice-cream.
You can ride here, you can ride there, you can wear a helmet or you can’t. Although it’s absolutely compulsory to wear a helmet in India, it seems optional to many people. Also it’s not mandatory if you’re riding an electric scooty.
Cruising through the beautiful landscapes of Hampi, everyone is waving and children are almost jumping into your wheel, because they get so excited while running, screaming and waving. I was driving a Honda Navi, my new love when it comes to scootys. It has the style and feel of a small motorbike, but the comfort and convenience of a scooty with no gears. With its distinctive orange frame, I soon became well-known driving around the same villages again and again. While I am riding through the rocky landscape of fallen Hampi, through endless paddy fields, I sing from the bottom of my soul:
“We are lions, we run free.
We are giants, we live eternally.
We are fighters, we dream and bleed.
We are giants, we live eternally.”
from the song Giants by Symphony of Sweden. That way my old soul connects with the ancient spirits that roam around in the piles of rocks that lie around everywhere and look like some god forgot to tidy up his toy boulders. I pass places I would never have reached by tuktuk, seeing how the life of people here truly is. How they live on incredibly cute farms with dogs, chicks, cows and many, many big and small muttons. Although the dogs don’t seem to friendly when I stop to take a picture.
Now to the downside of riding the scooty, as there is one major hate, and that is: Speed breakers! Of course they are located at crucial sites like entrances of a villages or at intersections, but sometimes they are just very random and unmarked. Especially in the dark they are a huge danger for speedy bikers. So the best thing you can do on a moonless night is just to follow a car, so you have its headlights and see when it slows down to hop over these little devils on the road.
It is also fun to watch the locals on their bikes, as there are many passenger women riding sideways because of traditional clothing like their beautiful sarees.
Turning to a very important topic: Horning. Unlike in other parts of the world, horning in Asia is not like shouting “What the hell are you doing?!” in someone’s face. No, the information content is much more higher. There are short, long, single, double and all sorts of variations of horning. It can mean something like: “Watch out, I am going to pass you”, while overtaking or “I have seen you” but also on the other side: “I am not going to slow down, so don’t you dare cut my line!”. Horning is therefore very important, because people may not look as closely as they do in Europe, and it happens that sometimes they don’t see you, but they will always hear you horning. Also, in blind bends or crossings, horning is there to state your presence, so you don’t have to break your speed going around a corner. To summarise: The one with the louder horn always wins.
One beatuiful situation that took away some of my general fear and suspicion of people from India was the following: I was driving when I heard my engine gurgling. I knew it was impossible that I had run out of petrol, because I had just filled it up with one liter after it was empty. But eventually the engine stopped and I could not get it to start again. Immediately four Indian guys were surrounded me, not to ask my name or where I am from, they where only there to help. They tried everything, from checking for petrol, to chocking, to kick starting, to turning the bike from side to side. Nothing worked. So one guy who actually spoke English called my rental place to explain what happened. The rental dude said we should take the scooty to the nearest garage, which fortunately was in the next village, only about 1 km away. But instead of letting me walk, the guys rid their own bike and pushed me with one foot on the exhaust pipe of my scooty. Like that we made our way along the main road to reach the next village. What an amazing example of Indian jugaad, and highly illegal in Switzerland. That’s why India is (at least sometimes) more fun than Europe!
In the end, the mechanic was able to fix the bike, the guys and I went our separate ways and I was able to enjoy my last beautiful sunset in Hampi at a different spot than the days before. And that only due to the liberation that bike gave me.