One thing is for sure: After spending nearly an hour in a car to traverse approximately 15 km in Agra, I will never complain about LA traffic again.
Today we drove from Delhi to Agra, site of the Taj Mahal. Although only 200 km away, the drive takes 4-5 hours because of the insane traffic in both cities, as well as the usual lack of real highway and constant previously mentioned road obstacles, mainly cows, goats, pedestrians, rickshaws, et al. The drive would have taken just under three hours, were it not for the standstill we encountered as we approached Agra. Bobo and I were just about ready to pull our hair out.
Thankfully, the traffic had subsided by the time we checked into our hotel and ventured back out to see the Agra Fort, which features incredible views from afar of the fabled Taj Mahal. Unfortunately, a dense fog has set in here in the north of India, wreaking all kinds of havoc and making our photos rather hazy. We're quite sure we won't get a sunrise tomorrow, but we hope to explore the Taj Mahal in all it's glory a little later in the morning (we won't miss the early morning wake-up call) when the fog lifts a bit.
To be continued tomorrow with photos!
Showing posts with label maddening traffic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label maddening traffic. Show all posts
Monday, January 4, 2010
Monday, May 18, 2009
Welcome to the Socialist Republic of Vietnam
Phnom Penh was like a warm-up for the traffic in Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC, or Saigon, as all the locals still refer to it, or so Lonely Planet says.) Now we are in the big leagues.
I found out that part of the vehicular insanity in Cambodia is that most of their cars used to originate in Thailand, where cars have a right-hand driver side and people drive on the left side of the road. Now, most cars come from other parts of Asia and are US-style. Understandly, this has caused mass chaos, as no one is really sure on which side of the road to drive, and a good percentage of the vehicles on the road (maybe 10-20%, by my totally unscientific standards) still have a right-hand driver's side.
Also, I have learned that, in Asia, honking your horn means "I am going through this intersection, and I'll be damned if you don't stop or at least slow down to let me pass." As previously mentioned, there was a serious dearth of traffic lights in Cambodia, so I guess this is a pretty entrepreneurial way of dealing with that problem. We're taken to singing, "Moooooove bitch / Get out da way" everytime we hear a car or moped honk its horn.
Turns out that honking is common place here in HCMC as well. Except that with 3 million (yes, you read that correctly...THREE MILLION) mopeds on the streets, it's a nightmare of epic proportions. I hope to soon be able to upload a video of us attempting to cross the street here. To be fair, there are technically crosswalks. However, they prove to be of little use. If you were to wait by for a break in the traffic to cross, you might be there for hours. Instead, the preferred technique is to just go, walking with purpose at a steady pace; They will avoid you. It's kind of like a Jedi mind trick. You just have to take the situation into your own hands and will them NOT to hit you.
Other initial thoughts on HCMC: it's more impressive at night. When we first got here, we were ready to spend one night and leave as soon as possible. After a fun night out, we were more inclined to give it a chance. It definitely feels more like Bangkok that Phnom Penh, and considering it is technically a socialist country, it is astounding how much of a free market there is. It's probably more capitalistic than the US. You can buy or sell absolutely anything here, and all prices are negotiable.
I found out that part of the vehicular insanity in Cambodia is that most of their cars used to originate in Thailand, where cars have a right-hand driver side and people drive on the left side of the road. Now, most cars come from other parts of Asia and are US-style. Understandly, this has caused mass chaos, as no one is really sure on which side of the road to drive, and a good percentage of the vehicles on the road (maybe 10-20%, by my totally unscientific standards) still have a right-hand driver's side.
Also, I have learned that, in Asia, honking your horn means "I am going through this intersection, and I'll be damned if you don't stop or at least slow down to let me pass." As previously mentioned, there was a serious dearth of traffic lights in Cambodia, so I guess this is a pretty entrepreneurial way of dealing with that problem. We're taken to singing, "Moooooove bitch / Get out da way" everytime we hear a car or moped honk its horn.
Turns out that honking is common place here in HCMC as well. Except that with 3 million (yes, you read that correctly...THREE MILLION) mopeds on the streets, it's a nightmare of epic proportions. I hope to soon be able to upload a video of us attempting to cross the street here. To be fair, there are technically crosswalks. However, they prove to be of little use. If you were to wait by for a break in the traffic to cross, you might be there for hours. Instead, the preferred technique is to just go, walking with purpose at a steady pace; They will avoid you. It's kind of like a Jedi mind trick. You just have to take the situation into your own hands and will them NOT to hit you.
Other initial thoughts on HCMC: it's more impressive at night. When we first got here, we were ready to spend one night and leave as soon as possible. After a fun night out, we were more inclined to give it a chance. It definitely feels more like Bangkok that Phnom Penh, and considering it is technically a socialist country, it is astounding how much of a free market there is. It's probably more capitalistic than the US. You can buy or sell absolutely anything here, and all prices are negotiable.
Other first impressions on HCMC: for a purportedly socialist country, they are way into free markets. You can buy or sell just about anything you can imagine here, and all prices are negotiable. Also, it's a lot easier to warm up this city at night. When we first got in this afternoon, we were convinced we'd only stay until tomorrow. After a fun night out, I think we'd be inclined to give it more of a chance, but knowing that there is so much to see and do in Hanoi, we'll probably keep moving north.
We ate some great food and then went for a walking tour, ending up at a fancy riverfront hotel where we enjoyed a drink at their rooftop bar overlooking the city. They had a live band that was just starting up as we left. The band was playing American country music. No joke. They played "Johnny Come Lately." I am not even kidding.
From there, we continued on to a bar called Yoko, which was legit. They also had a live band, but they were awesome. They played mostly 1960s and 1970s classic rock; Everything from The Doors to Led Zeppelin to Eric Clapton. They sounded great and the placed was packed without being uncomfortable. It was a perfect scene.
Tomorrow we will hit up the War Remnants Museum and visit a study room dedicated in memory of a friend of mine (more on that later) then probably start heading to the beach later in the day--either Mui Ne or Nha Trang.
Friday, May 15, 2009
"And, they're HERE!"
Our Phnom Penh adventure started off as, well, an adventure. We arrived with a hotel/guesthouse in mind, and once we got to the Indochine II, we were fairly satisfied with the place. Although very basic and spartan, it appeared to be spotless. We went out for a beer or two and some food, and when we returned, to our horror, we found the floor covered in what I can only hope were ants and not bedbugs. [NB: We are still debating whether or not bedbugs are actually visible to the naked human eye; I attempted to Wikipedia bedbugs, but Sneaky and Fritz forcibly grabbed my laptop and closed the window, effectively saving me from myself.] Coupled with the fact that the A/C did not appear to be working--and the temperature here is approximately 90 degrees at night, with 80% humidity--we were displeased, to say the least.
After a few shrieks emanated from all our throats (Fritz, I discovered, is actively scared of bugs) we had a brief discussion as to whether or not we should bolt, then quickly grabbed our bags, and left. The staff did not seem particularly surprised nor sympathetic, and we managed to get out of there paying ½ the agreed-to rate, a grand total of USD $15.
From there, we decided to hold court at the Riverside Café, where we could enjoy a beer or a fruit shake, watch some English premiere league soccer, use their free wi-fi, and debate our options. A quick tuk-tuk ride over to a place called The Pavilion turned out to be fruitless, as they were all booked up for the next. A place just a few blocks away, however, showed us to a sparkling room with a charming balcony and some pumping A/C. We had seen all we needed to see and we were exhausted, so we gladly took the room and called it a night.
Leaving the buggy, waterfront guesthouse was the best decision we’ve made so far. The place we ended up, the Blue Lime, is a super laid-back oasis behind a big, sliding wooden door. It’s down a little alley that’s tucked away from the rotting garbage and insane traffic (more on that in a moment) on the streets of Phnom Penh.
So, the traffic in Phnom Penh is epic. It it perhaps best described as a giant game of chicken, the participants of which include backpacker pedestrians, families of up to five on a single moped, the Lexus SUVs of high-ranking Cambodian government officials, and tuk-tuks driven by the most relentless and fearless drivers imaginable. Traffic lights do not exist, and where they do, they are ignored. There is no right nor left lane. There are no dotted nor solid lines. Potholes the sizes of craters are abundant, and some roads aren’t paved at all. In true New York fashion, we did learn that if you approach the curb with authority and confidence, the Moped Madness will stop for a nanosecond so as to allow you to cross.
After a few shrieks emanated from all our throats (Fritz, I discovered, is actively scared of bugs) we had a brief discussion as to whether or not we should bolt, then quickly grabbed our bags, and left. The staff did not seem particularly surprised nor sympathetic, and we managed to get out of there paying ½ the agreed-to rate, a grand total of USD $15.
From there, we decided to hold court at the Riverside Café, where we could enjoy a beer or a fruit shake, watch some English premiere league soccer, use their free wi-fi, and debate our options. A quick tuk-tuk ride over to a place called The Pavilion turned out to be fruitless, as they were all booked up for the next. A place just a few blocks away, however, showed us to a sparkling room with a charming balcony and some pumping A/C. We had seen all we needed to see and we were exhausted, so we gladly took the room and called it a night.
Leaving the buggy, waterfront guesthouse was the best decision we’ve made so far. The place we ended up, the Blue Lime, is a super laid-back oasis behind a big, sliding wooden door. It’s down a little alley that’s tucked away from the rotting garbage and insane traffic (more on that in a moment) on the streets of Phnom Penh.
So, the traffic in Phnom Penh is epic. It it perhaps best described as a giant game of chicken, the participants of which include backpacker pedestrians, families of up to five on a single moped, the Lexus SUVs of high-ranking Cambodian government officials, and tuk-tuks driven by the most relentless and fearless drivers imaginable. Traffic lights do not exist, and where they do, they are ignored. There is no right nor left lane. There are no dotted nor solid lines. Potholes the sizes of craters are abundant, and some roads aren’t paved at all. In true New York fashion, we did learn that if you approach the curb with authority and confidence, the Moped Madness will stop for a nanosecond so as to allow you to cross.
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