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| The bus stop |
It seemed like a good idea at the time, wearing my favourite
white pants shopping but I have indeed learnt a valuable lesson. Shopping in Sangata and white linen pants are
a terrible combination. It all started
so well, the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky as Princess Pants and I
headed up the road to the bus stop. This
is not a regular bus stop, we don’t have buses that come and go all day to cart
us around – this bus stop caters for the maids and gardeners of the housing
camp. It’s a free service and is very
useful for when we just need to pop into town for something. The plan was I would meet a friend and her
son on the bus and we would spend an afternoon in town, doing a few
errands. Princess Pants and I wandered
up to the bus stop late in the afternoon, there was no breeze and we were
already pretty hot and sweaty by the time we reached the bus stop. I love, Princess Pants but she jinxed us when
she said “it’s so hot, I wish it would rain and cool down”.
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| The door we nearly flew out |
The sun was still shining when we boarded the bus and settled
in for the 30 minute ride. My heart rate
went through the roof as I looked out the window, noticing that our huge bus
was not only on the wrong side of the road but was overtaking a truck. I
certainly couldn’t see what was about to come around the bend so am pretty sure
neither could the driver. After many
more of these OMG moments we pulled up on the side of the road and disembarked. The excitement was only just beginning on
this adventure as we still had several untuks to catch. An untuk is minivan, they are yellow and blue,
the back doors don’t close and you perch on incredibly thin bench seats. You wave your hand to flag them down, cram in
with as many other passengers who will fit and off you go. This ride will cost you 50 cents but let me
tell you, you’re taking your life in your hands when you board these death
machines.
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| Just an obstacle to our shopping |
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| The footpath |
So where was I, we had just hopped off the big bus, crossed
the road and were ready to wave down an untuk.
Out of nowhere the sky opened and the rain began to fall. I’m not talking a delicate sprinkle of rain
but huge drops of rain that began to soak us.
It was at this moment as the rain fell and the puddles filled that I
realised the error of my ways. White
pants were such a bad idea. We dashed
for cover under a shop awning and hoped that the rain would let up. Before you ask, no we didn’t have an umbrella
and not that it would have helped my poor white pants anyway. An untuk arrived and we climbed aboard. I tried not to look at the road rushing by
through the rust holes in the floor, or to swear profusely as the driver
slammed on his breaks and nearly sent us all sailing out the open door onto the
road. The untuk made its way through
town and the rain subsided (much to my relief). The untuk filled up with other
shoppers and soon 10 of us were crammed into this tiny minivan (hoping the
rusty floor didn’t give out). Soon
enough we got to our destination, and piled out onto the footpath. Okay to be honest it wasn’t really a footpath
it was more a slab of concrete nestled in a muddy road. We did some shopping and I managed to find a
very funky retro kettle (that’s a story for another blog), we were then on our
way again. After 3 more untuk rides we
ended up at the last stop on our shopping expedition. It was getting dark and then it happened, a
torrential down pour of epic proportions hit.
Anyone from the tropics knows the kind of rain I mean, sheets of water
pouring from the sky. In the beginning
we were lucky enough to be in a shop and protected from this onslaught of
nature but unfortunately the time did come and we had to leave. I walked out of the store and straight into a
puddle that covered my entire foot. I
grabbed Princess Pants hand and tried my best to dodge scooters, and the deeper
puddles as we crossed the road. I could
feel my thongs (yep, you know me always in sensible footwear) sliding on my
feet and hoped that I would not find myself arse up in the mud. We made it to the middle of the road fairly
unscathed. I prayed that an untuk would
arrive soon as I was quite aware that my pants would soon be very see through
as the rain continued to soak them. Then
I saw it, blocking our path to the other side of the road was the hugest
puddle. I’m sure a small car or scooter could disappear
into it entirely, that is how big it was.
I had no choice the puddle was the only thing standing between me and a
dry untuk. I grabbed Princess Pants and dashed through the puddle to the
waiting untuck. Safely inside I glanced
down and sure enough there was mud and filthy water everywhere.
I have learnt my lesson and on the off chance that my maid
can get those pants clean again I think they will be relegated to the back of
my closet never to see another shopping trip in Sangata.
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