I never expected the traffic in this city to be anything other than heartbreaking so whilst I am inevitably getting hot in long tailbacks, it is a bit stupid getting bothered as well. My favourite traffic jam so far has to be waiting for a blockade of cows to be removed from the main road of this MEGACITY. There is also a regular occurrence of finding a big lorry full of housebuilding materials taking up the whole width of the road and seemingly ready to dump its load (horrible, sorry), only to quickly realise that this lorry won't actually be moving until they've built and subsequently sold the house.
On the way home tonight, Joel was engaged in the usual game of Toca Touring Cars with the rest of the traffic when we pulled up behind a van (much like a Citroen Berlingo) with no doors on the back and there must have been about 10 people crammed in the back. Although what caught my attention was a lovely little old woman having a sleep in the middle of all these sweaty men, who also happened to be dancing and singing at the same time. Before I could be truly envious of her ability to nod off anywhere, I realised that she had long since fallen into a deep sleep. A deep sleep that had resulted in death. This was her funeral procession.
A funeral procession in India normally means a bunch of men carrying an uncovered dead body to the river whilst singing and dancing; and then burning it. But if you aren't situated near a river, by all means get a mate with a van involved.
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