over the rainbow

... is a land called oooooty.

after 2 months of being solely in mysore, i started to feel a bit stagnant and antsy. i needed to get out, even if it was just for a couple of days... so a few of my new-found friends and i decided to venture into the mountains to a city called ooty.

ooty is about a five-hour bus ride through one of india's lush national forests... up, up, up into a british hill station surrounded by a bajillion curves, turns and bends... where a cool breeze and clean air were waiting for me.

the drive up there was exhilarating. we were on a standard indian bus with wide open windows and no shock absorption. i hung my head out the window the whole time like a car-ride-loving dog... though i did manage to keep my tongue in my mouth for the most part.

the time in ooty was uneventful other than the fact that i finally got to see another part of india and my butt didn't sweat for the first time since i've been in this country.

we stayed at the ywca, and i got suckered into sleeping on the concrete floor... of course the story is a bit different depending who you ask, but this is my blog, so we'll go with my version... i woke up very stiff and sore... and vowed the next time i go camping, i'm bringing an air mattress...

instead of trying to fight the indian crowd at the bus station, we decided to get our return bus tickets from the ywca reception desk... now i know when someone offers a smaller bus that will get us home faster, i'll think twice about it and say "um, no".

we were told that the bus would arrive from 3:30 to 4, so being the very punctual virgo that i am, we were there by 3... the bus finally pulled up at 4:30. the "bus" turned out to be a small airport shuttle... "small" being the key word here... i've only been in an airport shuttle for a 20 minute ride to the actual airport, so i had no idea what to expect on an airport shuttle flying down a mountain for 5 hours...

the four of us were the only ones getting onto the bus, so i figured this wouldn't be as bad as i initially thought. we each took a row of seats to ourselves and settled in for the "shorter" ride home.


















the bus drove us into the center of ooty to the main office... apparently, we were picking up more passengers. the director of the expedition made the four of us cram in next to each other while 20 more people squeezed onto the bus. i was sitting as close as i possibly could to my new friend natalie... aka the mexican, but not really a mexican... and my left butt-cheek was still hanging off the seat into the aisle. as my luck would have it, two big-boned indians and their 6-year-old spastic son took up the seats next to me.

the ywca was right about one thing... the bus was faster. i've never seen a vehicle fly so fast down a mountain before. the driver had no awareness of anything else on the road. we almost killed a few pedestrians, took out a few trees and natalie almost lost her head from oncoming traffic. after about 20 minutes of whipping around hairpin curves, the bus pulls over... the 6-year-old has to pee... in moments, he is whisked back onto the bus, the driver slams on the gas and we were off again... most of us suffering from minor whiplash... another 20 minutes later, the bus pulls over again... a woman in the front has to get sick... i wish i could say it was the only time.

after 6 and a half hours of bouncing all over the road, stopping and going at top speeds, dodging speed bumps and potholes and listening to the constant sound of indian ring tones... and i mean constant... we finally pull into mysore, exhausted, but smiling. i've discovered that the journey to the destination is always my favorite part... whether by scooter, rickshaw or bus... and no matter how ridiculous the situation seems to get, it's part of my adventure... and i laugh the whole time.