The trip back to India from Sri Lanka involved all the usual horrors of budget booked on the fly can’t wait to get the hell out of there mood. Fleeing from Colombo at 3am, head lolling and rolling, drooling and half sleeping through immigrations double checks and transfers along the way.
With no plan to join the rush hour into the city of Delhi, I decided to go to a local bus stand to hop on a bus to Rajasthan.
It’s easy, said an Aussie mate, Just get a taxi to the bus stand and there are buses every ten minutes.
Except its not a bus stop any more with all the towering overpasses and new highways being built around that area, its a bus SLOW DOWN. Which means that the buses swerve towards people huddled by an insanely busy roadside. The conductor will shout the destination and then the race begins. You throw you bags through the bus window as you run, and then catch hold of something that is going to hold your weight and inch by inch grope your way to the door of the moving bus.
The first bus I managed to run down was only going to Jaipur which was only half the distance I hoped to cover and it was a local bus which meant the journey was long and bum breaking.
In Jaipur I hunted briefly for a taxi to take me to Pushkar but the rates were rapidly spiraling out of control as soon as those cunning Rajasthani saw the desperate tiredness in my face, In any case it’s full wedding season in India now and taxis are fully booked. So another local bus to Ajmer, drooling, head rolling, insanely tired and possibly delerious because I was seeing it with a great sense of fondness.
Then in Ajmer, a rickshaw to cover the remaining 12 kilometers to Pushkar. By now the battery on my phone is flat and unable to phone my friendly driver in Pushkar to collect me, I had to take my chances with the bhaindchord rickshaw wallah lurking in the dark.
Before we have gone one hundred meters we have crashed into two men on a motorcycle. There is a heated conversation, some slapping and I think this is going to take too long to sort out. I hail another rickshaw and climb out of the crashed one. But then the fight is over and they wave me back in.
Another five kilometers and they stop the rickshaw and pull out the seat. It is scorched and burning, something has set it alight from the motor underneath. They put out the fire and put the seat back in. The rickshaw refuses to start.
We let it cool down and try again. It coughs and splutters up the hill and looses its lights on the way down.
But in all that crazy exhaustion and madness I remained amazingly calm, because this is why I came to India in the very first place. She, like me, is still crazy after all these years!

Do you want to know the real reason why women always go to the toilets in pairs? Obviously and most immediately it is to talk about Men and what is Wrong (or Right) With Them, but there is a deeper more instinctive reason why we do so.We need someone to hold our handbag while we take a dump.

This is a genetic habit embedded in our makeup from the days when we lived in the jungles and wild animals abounded. The fear of being taken by a wild animal whilst shitting is an ancient fear in the heart of the human.

Asian toilets are spoken about with either horror or a laissez fareness that doesn’t help at all when you are first confronted with a squat.The health benefits of squatting are well documented, and most developing nations do not have the benefit of a sewer system so the use of toilet paper is actively discouraged.

Paper is the only thing Not Allowed down an Indian squat, everything else seems to be permitted, at least in public places.I have seen some interesting arrangements in bus stands all over India, but the most memorable was two bricks positioned on a square of concrete that was awash in human waste. There was no outlet for the waste, it just sat and seethed in the noonday sun, bubbling menacingly. I passed on that and spend ten more hours “holding on”.

For the solo female traveller without the benefit of a Toilet Companion, here are a few tips to help you through your first visit to a squat toilet. Practising the following moves at home before you depart will

• Amuse your friends endlessly


• Build strong sexy thighs


• Lubricate your joints for running after buses


• make you eligible to join the ranks of True Eco Travelers

Once you have the routine down, the practise doing a speeded up version and you are also ready for your first case of diarrhoea on the road, every traveller’s nightmare. Try to get it down to three seconds.

On entry you will see

It’s pretty self-explanatory.

You need to position yourself so that you have the tap on your left hand side.First check that the tap is working and that water is available.You might want to pour some water down to either clean the thing before you squat or to facilitate an easier evacuation of your own wastes down the hole or consider the reason for the stick which is usually standing near the back of the toilet. If you are wearing trousers with side pockets, empty your pockets. Keys, cell phones and credit cards still work after a dump in the toilet but you never feel the same about them afterwards.

If you are wearing a salwaar kameez then the event is going to require some Yogic Discipline. Lets assume you are carrying a small daypack that fits snugly around your shoulders. First, remove your pack and stuff in side your dupatta or scarf and anything else you are holding in your hands.If you cant keep the bag on your back, then hold it in your teeth or balance it on your head.

Bend down and roll the legs of your trousers up a little bit to guard against splash marks.With your left hand, hold your trousers around knee height. In one smooth movement you will

• Squat,


• Flip the back of your top up over your back with your right hand and AT THE SAME TIME


• Pull your pants down from the waist to the knees.What you want is every piece of fabric at least six inches away from the business end of this operation.Squat with your feet flat to the ground for extra balance, especially on trains. This helps to develop strong thigh muscles and means you wont inadvertently put your hand out to balance yourself and TOUCH something.

After you have done the business, hold the water container in your right hand and pour it down your Khyber Pass, using your left hand to dislodge any ‘cling ons’. Rinsing your hand as you do so.By this time the bus horn will be tooting like crazy, or the train will begin to shudder into a station or someone will burst in on you.Quickly reverse the previous undressing operation, leaving all extraneous material in your daypack, wash your hands thoroughly with the ubiquitous Lifebuoy Soap and run for the bus that is by now lurching away from you.