Much to the bewilderment of the locals I walk down to our local village. It's about one and half kilometres, a distance locals wouldn't dream of walking. They'd take an "auto" the yellow vehicles that in some parts of Asia are known as tuktuks.
The surrounding area is agricultural with lots of fruit and vegetable farms. Large herds of goats and smaller numbers of cattle are constantly on the move to new grazing grounds. Sounds idellyic and peaceful, and in parts it really is and very beautiful. Once you get closer to the township and especially when you hit the highway it can only be described as chaos. There are dozens of buses, tractors, carts pulled by animals or people plus the motorbikes zipping in and around traffic and people. Every passing of vehicle, person or mosquito requires pumping the horn. Yes this means a drivers hand never leaves the horn. A melody that will remain with me for some time. That and the weddings, but that tale is for another day.
