I felt I was in a very delicate condition, and I survived. It's like this, if you have stomach problems, don't eat before a bus ride in India. I didn't, all day. Problemo solved-oh.
Sarah was sick as well, and we shared a double berth and had a blast. She had a cold, I had an intestinal issue. The bus bounced around alot. The ride was quoted as 14 hours, and so coming in at 16 was making good time.
The windows closed, Hallelujah! This would turn out to be incredibly important when the woman traveling in the berth ahead of us got sick, repeatedly leaning out her window.
Sarah awake at 6 a.m, noticing streaks on our window: I think someone just peed out their window.
Eufemia's reply: Eww.
Sarah more awake: Oh, no, they're sick. They're vomitting! Ohhh, 'why like this?'
Why like this? said with an accent is a new favourite phrase for me and Sarahji.
Eufemia: Ewwwwwwwwwwwww.
***denotes passage of time***
Sarah rightly looked at me as if I was an idjit. Raining? Not unless it was raining vomit, which sadly, for our lil' window view of India's countryside, it was.
Apparently, Indians don't travel well. Can you imagine how we felt? This poor woman, thank god she was wearing a bright yellow sari, it was like an Amber alert every time her head popped out her window. And I laughed myself silly watching Sarah try to time spitting her bahut phlegm out the window, trying to ensure she wasn't in the line of fire.
Good times, good times.
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