When I think of Bangladesh I generally think of some natural or human disaster. Because of its geography it is prone to cyclones, widespread flooding and political turmoil. So I guess it is apt. that I arrived in dense fog – this combined with a puncture, the bus getting lost in the fog and the carnage that was out on the roads meant that the journey from Calcutta to Dhaka took a laborious 20 hours of no sleep, no food and not a thing to be seen. Furthermore I arrived on Victory day, so everything was shut. Exhausted I decided to check into a posh hotel, well posh by my standards, at 9 quid a night it was not my usual flea pit.

 

Dhakahas an official figure of 88,700 rickshaws, well that is the number that government says. Another figure estimates it closer at 600,000. From the 8thfloor of the Manhattan hotel, my toilet has a great view of an intersection and the chaos that it embraces. I would also like to note that the cistern of the toilet was connected to the hot water supply, so every time I flushed it emptied several gallons of boiling water down the drain – is this something posh hotels do or is it another example of the insane plumbing that you find on the sub continent. I also noted that the shower ran out of hot water quite quickly…..I pondered if there was a way to get the toilet connected to the shower. Anyway, so back to the rickshaws, however many there may be, they make a lovely tinkling noise, this combined with the constant use of horn and the call to prayer gives Dhaka wonderful, chaotic, sound. If I were to get a stomach bug, this would be the place I would wish it to be, a toilet with a view and the harmonious symphony of a working city.

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And then there are the buses. If you have ever been banger racing and seen the aftermath of the twisted and torn, once family, motors. Then this will give you an indication of what the buses look like, this then too will give you an idea of how they drive. If you are going to die on a bus, then this is the place it will likely be. I started planning routes to the many places I wanted to visit….unfortunately there is no way of avoiding buses…….I started planning the newspaper article “Bus crash carnage in Bangladesh, 40 dead only 1 survivor, a westerner” there is then a photo of me in full crash helmet and encased in 30 layers of bubble wrap, with the quote “I thought I had had it when the local kids started popping my bubbles.”

 

 

More to follow in Bangladesh – power to the people (Part 2)

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