In Udaipur's Old Town, streets are so narrow and hectic that in many places only one car can fit on what most Rajasthanis would deem a two-way street. This frequently leads to a back-up of cars, tuk-tuks, motorbikes, and pedestrians.
My driver warned me of this phenomenon but bravely took me through a portion of Old Town on my first day, anyway, fearing (rightly) that I would get lost on the way to my destination. Anxiety took hold of me as I looked out the window while we squeezed through narrow passageways reminiscent of Harry Potter's journey on the Knight Bus.
When we finally came to an alleyway only big enough for one car, I clenched my fists while my driver made micro-maneuvers to pivot the corners--much like watching Ross on Friends try to fit a couch up a New York staircase.
My driver warned me of this phenomenon but bravely took me through a portion of Old Town on my first day, anyway, fearing (rightly) that I would get lost on the way to my destination. Anxiety took hold of me as I looked out the window while we squeezed through narrow passageways reminiscent of Harry Potter's journey on the Knight Bus.
When we finally came to an alleyway only big enough for one car, I clenched my fists while my driver made micro-maneuvers to pivot the corners--much like watching Ross on Friends try to fit a couch up a New York staircase.
Instead of stopping to let us by and decongest the area, motorcyclists selfishly tried to squeeze past, seemingly incapable of sparing two or three minutes to make even their own journeys easier.
Finally, after much gesticulating, yelling, and traffic-cop playing by pedestrians, we inched our way through. My driver pointed out signs and important turns to me over and over, painstakingly detailing the most important landmarks that would help me navigate my way through Old Town so we never had to do that again.