Modern Gonzo Tales of Transport Hell

The thing I didn’t realize about one year of travel is the sheer amount of time I was going to spend actually travelling. Anyone who tells me that its about the journey, not the destination, hasn’t spent 14 hours on an overcrowded train in India, or eight hours on a bus in Albania, or had their rickshaw driver run over mid-pedal in Peru. For every glorious coconut-lined beach, or charming town square, several hours of precious life I’ll never see again was spent getting there. I could accept that these are the pains necessary for the pleasure, and transport doesn’t necessarily have to be painful at all. There are worse things than a few peaceful hours in an airport, or a beautiful journey by train through the countryside. Far worse things, such as trying to get from A to B in a bus held together with dental floss, or any experience involving a taxi driver.
Here are the worst journeys of Modern Gonzo so far:

The Night Bus from Recife to Salvador, Brazil

Night buses are my bane, but what made this one so special was the fact that the driver insisted on cranking the air-con so that icicles were forming on my nose. Outside was a warm and pleasant night, inside, the Arctic Circle. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and spent a long, painful night shivering and shaking.

The Rickshaw in Puno, Peru

Pedal-power rickshaws can be a charming, cheap way to get around. In the southern Peruvian town of Puno, the driver is located behind the carriage (as opposed to in front of the carriage as in India). We took a corner and the carriage came to an abrupt halt. I turned around and saw our driver had somehow lodged himself underneath a moving car. I have no idea how he managed to do this, but the car had to reverse over his foot to free him. The next rickshaw, I insisted the driver get in the carriage and I pedaled myself.

The Bus Ride from Tirana to Dhermi, Albania

I was supposed to take four hours, but took closer to eight. The bus could barely make its way up the steep mountain hills, chugging along at a snails pace while springs stuck through the seats and poked in my ass (think marshmallows on a stick). Someone came around to collect all the trash and promptly through it out the window. I’ve seen rock deserts in better condition than the Albanian ≥national highway≤, and the driver seemed intent on having a head-on collision while cranking bad pop music on his blown speakers.

The Train from Rishikesh to Chakkebank, India

On poor advice, I ended up waiting for two hours before the train actually left. It traveled for an hour through the usual smorgasbord of Indian odours, before stopping at some town for a hot, uncomfortable two hours. Although it shouldn’t happen, the second-class sleeper carriage filled up and people were everywhere. I dozed off and woke up to find two guys had decided the spare space on my upper bunk would make great seats. When a third guy tried to squeeze in, I put my foot down - literally, on his head. I had to stay awake to get off at a small town in the middle of the night, to wait another two hours for a three-hour bus to Dharamsala. On the way, I was harassed by a lovesick rickshaw driver and an earthquake measuring 7.6 on the Richter Scale rocked the region, killing thirty thousand people. One of these journeys in a lifetime is more than enough.

The Metro to Budapest Airport, Hungary

With a terrible hangover, I had two tickets and two hours to get to the airport. Due to construction, I had to take a shuttle to the nearest station, which I was told was included in my ticket. Not according to the ticket inspector, who let me off after much begging but still confiscated my ticket. Bitterly, I caught the metro to the last stop, as I was told, only to realize I had gone in the wrong direction. All the way back, I arrived just in time for the airport bus driver to slam the door in my space. I just made the flight; with no help whatsoever to the Hungarians along the way.

The Bus from Corioco to La Paz, Bolivia

I had just ridden down the World’s Most Dangerous Road, and was feeling well proud of myself for safely navigating the treacherous passes along the mountain, with its narrow winding road and the sheer drops that claim some 150 lives a year. What I failed to realize was I’d have to get in a bus that returned along the same road back to La Paz. Being in control is one thing, putting your life in the hands of some guy who looks like he’s half asleep at the wheel, just inches away from your death, is another. Fortunately I could lie down on the back seat, put on some music, and pray that we would make it up alive.

The ferry from Salvador to Morro de Sao Paulo, Brazil

Serious ocean storms are nothing to be sniggered at. Even if you’re in a catamaran that can pounce over the huge swells. On this 90-minute ferry ride, you had two choices. Go outside, get soaking wet and hang on for dear life, or stay inside and full up a barf bag with yesterday’s beef stew. I actually loved the thrill of riding a storm, even if the lack of life jackets were a little disarming. Inside, the place was starting to look, and smell, a little sick.

Night Bus from San Pedro to Valparaiso, Chile

Mission Impossible Two. Dubbed. Loud. On Repeat for 12 hours. Enough said.

Flight to Lima to New York, USA

The hell of this flight was arriving in New York and looking for somewhere cheap to stay for the night. The staff at Le Guardia were about as helpful as a pineapple up my rectum. Exhausted from the flight, my crisis of not having somewhere to spend the night was not nearly as important as the nails of the obese woman at the help counter. It made me crave the professionalism of the third world.

Train from Slovakia to Split, Croatia

Besides having to make three connections, adding a certain amount of stress to the proceedings, nobody told me that there would be no food on board this 22 hour journey, much less any stops to acquire some. The train was naturally running an hour late, meaning I had to hoof it across platforms as the connecting train conveniently waited for six seconds before pulling off. Lunch, dinner and breakfast consisted of a Mars and Bounty bar and a can of coke, which cost me $9 from the enterprising conductor.

Auto-rickshaw from the Red Fort to Pahar Ganj, Delhi, India

The worst of India, in this one-hour, traffic-choked hell of a trip. During the journey, the driver violently assaulted a young beggar girl who approached us; had two minor collisions involving a bike and a car; got stuck in a jam where we had to cover our mouths to avoid choking on the pollution; took a short-cut through a toilet; and sexually harassed my friend when we left her for a moment to retrieve some clothes from my hotel. Then he wanted to charge us double. I want to charge him too, with a big sharp sword.