We started off optimistic- we ordered 2 tuk tuks and arrived at the bus “station” (bus stop? Shelter?) just before 9am. We piled our packs up and sat down, waiting the 30 minutes before our bus was supposed to arrived. Local buses came and went, people running after them to jump on while they were moving. (Bus stop is a figurative term- they don’t actually stop, they just slow down). We waited and as the time got closer, we started getting nervous. Was this the right place? A quick check with the people sitting next to us and our fears were relieved. We were. But our bus was late (no surprises there).
It did show up not too long after- but there was a catch. This was not the sleeper we were expecting. It was small. And almost full. We doubled checked- Was this the right bus? Yes. So we got on. I plopped down in my seat and settled in for the long haul. Earphones in, pillow up, eyes closed. 22 hours would be hard but I could do it, right?
Turns out I didn’t have to. We arrived at a bus station and víola! There they were. Buses on buses on buses- all sleeper. But where was our bus? Who knew? No one seemed to. The waiting room was full, so we stood out in the scorching sun with all our packs and waited. 10:30am passed and our bus still hadn’t arrived. It was late, again. But that was to be expected- Indian time never runs how you expect it to.
I don’t fully know what time our bus arrived- we did have time to compose a song about waiting for the bus, though. We all piled on and what would you know, we were in ‘bougie’ central. Fresh white linen, tv screens, air conditioning, beds and pillows that were actually comfortable. This was it. This made up for the mould infested, death trap we had stayed in for 2 nights while in Hyderabad. We settled in and I was happy…
…until 5pm when our bus broke down on the side of the road. In the middle of a movie, I stayed on the bus until it got too hot to bear. Dripping with sweat, I stepped out into the small village on the side of the highway. We had drawn a crowd. Our bus drivers, as well as some locals we gathered around the bus, trying to figure out what was going on. ‘The mechanic would be here in 2 hours,’ they said.
The mechanic was not there in 2 hours. It was more like 4. We played with the kids and conversed with our fellow passengers, who told us that the bus was only in it’s second day of service. A few passengers had already hitched rides, leaving us in their dust. We sat, we played games, we danced, we ate mangoes and snacks that the bus attendants handed out.
It was just before midnight when the bus finally came to life. We got back on, knowing that we weren’t getting into Agra at 7:30am as we had expected.
Little did we know how much later we would arrived. We stopped for breakfast, then for lunch, and a few toilet stops.
One rain storm, 2 toilet breaks on the side of the road, and 2 naps later, we finally arrived in Agra. At 10:30pm. 36 hours after we had left.
It just goes to show that, no matter the quality of transport, you should always expect the unexpected.
