NIC IN ASIA

I'm an hour early.The staff tell me if I run I'll make the 7:30am coach. Where is it? "It's down there, 200m,HURRY" and something about a bridge. I stagger off in the direction of her finger, lugging 25 kg of stuff I don't need.I get to a 'bridge'-it's an overpass crossing an 8 lane highway.I'm in a panic! She didn't mean climb THAT? I look around.No sign of a coach.I put my foot on the step,I'm hyperventilating.I'd struggle getting up here with the extra kilos I usually carry, let alone a bloody backpack.I hear my name, but who? I don't know anyone here, and I've never heard my name pronounced like THAT before. I look around and there's the driver, Mohammed,waving,telling me to hurry ,pointing at his watch and carrying on...that's it ! I'm tired,hungry,need a coffee,and certainly don't need his crap at 7:30am. I throw my pack at his feet and tell him in my best Bahasa Melayu that I'm an hour early,haven't eaten,or had coffee,so don't start,as the rest of the coach press their faces to the window to get a better look. Yes, the entertainment has arrived!! He's stowing away my bag as I'm fumbling in my pocket for a cigarette,he looks up,exasperated. I glare at him.I get on,and we're off.Soon after,immigration,we disembark for passport checks.The bus drives around to wait for us on the other side.I'm the first back on board.But,something's different..there's a putrid stench, and I'm not having it. I call Mohammed. Then I spot vomit coming from under the seat across the aisle.I've got my mouth covered and I'm pointing. He reaches under the seat and pulls out an almost empty sick bag, but this one's not paper, it's clear plastic.The bag's been stashed for safe keeping,not realising the bus was going to move again before they could lay claim to it.By now I'm heaving like never before, my eye's are streaming, my whole body's convulsing and on recollection I do believe there was a smattering of "I want my money back" coming from my direction.Mo puts a sheet of newspaper over it and secures it in place with his foot,he winks,turns the air-con to a nasal numbing minus 15 and we're back on the road,with me in a different seat.10 minutes later we stop again,bag screening.All's clear,everyone's waiting at the bus,but Mo's gone AWOL. Great! Then here is,pushing his way through the throng to yours truly.He's bought me a samosa,a cake and a coffee,served in a clear plastic bag with a straw .I look, one last dry reach and I thank him for the breakfast.We grin.Mo's alright.