Swell
“The bus appeared to have been hurriedly put together from old baked bean tins and some sticky-backed plastic. The PVC seat stuck to the backs of my legs and a layer of grime added inches to the floor. The further we travelled from Kuta, the more uneven the road surfaces became and I had to peer out of the dusty window to check we weren’t driving on a bouncy castle. The driver was a very pleasant Balinese man in his fifties who had just completed the twelve-hour inbound route but could see no re...ason to stop for a break before we set off.
‘Tiredness kills,’ I warned him as he lifted my case with ease and tossed it into the luggage compartment.
‘My boss kills if I am late,’ he chuckled out of the side of his mouth while balancing a gadang garam on his crusty lip.
He shepherded his passengers onto the bus.
If I had been concerned the driver might fall asleep and drive us to our deaths I needn’t have been. He played the Rolling Stones on repeat for every minute of the twelve hours at a decibel level that rattled the windows while he sang along in words that were not strictly English.MoreLess
‘Tiredness kills,’ I warned him as he lifted my case with ease and tossed it into the luggage compartment.
‘My boss kills if I am late,’ he chuckled out of the side of his mouth while balancing a gadang garam on his crusty lip.
He shepherded his passengers onto the bus.
If I had been concerned the driver might fall asleep and drive us to our deaths I needn’t have been. He played the Rolling Stones on repeat for every minute of the twelve hours at a decibel level that rattled the windows while he sang along in words that were not strictly English.MoreLess
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