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Journalism of Courage
The 8220;motorcy8221; weaved furiously through the Bangkok traffic. I clung on to the handlebar for dear life, but the orange-vested driver seemed least bothered by the shrieking honks around him. At several points on Sukhumvit Road, I came quite close to tickling the legs of elephants.
Over my travelling years, I have developed a great interest in different modes of transportation. Save for a few vehicular variants, the Western world is mundanely cocooned in its world of radio cabs, buses and trains, with a stray commuter boat thrown in for good measure. For instance, I found the Eurostar a lot less interesting than the now-commercialised gondolas that glide across the Venetian waterways. They recently introduced the pedi-cab or the 8220;velotaxi8221; in certain American and European tourist traps. In keeping with Western standards, some of these are equipped with hydraulic disc brakes and some even with solar-powered internet terminals that make you feel as though you have embarked on a secret space mission.
Alas, the deathly grip of industrialisation is driving many curious forms of transportation to extinction. There are now state-of-the-art ferries that go from England to Belgium within a few hours, replacing the hovercrafts that once crossed the Channel. I am told the Channel Tunnel lets you do this trip even faster. Unlike bullock carts or the cycle rickshaw, the two-wheelers of Indian cities may just last for ever. These speeding contraptions zip through traffic or zoom recklessly over footpaths, ignoring hapless pedestrians, but nothing can get you there faster.nbsp;
Given the unfair advantage of sleekness, a motorcy may one day become a more common sight in India, as in Cambodia or Thailand. Hard-pressed for time, this two-wheeler taxi is definitely worth the ride 8212; even if you have to strap that dirty loaner helmet onto your head!
