The Only Way To Travel

There are 2 rules that must be followed when driving in Medan…..1. Everything must go in the same direction, and 2. Try not to hit anything. You can observe these rules being broken on a daily basis, but on the whole they are obeyed and road rage is surprisingly sparse compared to London with all its markings, lights and warnings laid out for the western driver.

I left the hotel in the morning and had to go and meet a friend, the motorbike taxi guy looked pleased as I was walking towards him as business had been slow that day. He gave me one of his special Indonesian cigarettes that take about half an hour to get through and we hit the road. I was silent the first 5 minutes, thought it could all end here, the drama of it all, people on car roofs, hanging out of windows, seemingly unconcerned with the dangers of the road, maybe they didn’t get policemen and other sorts into schools to talk about road safety in Sumatra like they did in the UK?

After realising that we may actually reach our destination unscathed, I relaxed and suddenly felt excited about this journey, this roller coaster type ride in a small metal cage attached to an old motorbike that sounded like an industrial lawn mower. We cut through the traffic like a rodent scurrying through the rubbish, and the sound of horns, constantly, from every direction, like a deafening mass of Morse code that each driver could understand. If your car or bike horn broke here, you’d better pull over and fix it, it’s as important as having working brakes….almost.

We pulled up and I smiled graciously to the man who had braved the road and delivered me in one piece. I gave him a 20,000 rupee note and he looked at me like a dog who’s just been shown a card trick. I didn’t want to offend anyone! I’d just arrived the previous day, so I pulled out another 20,000 note and handed it to him – again, a look of complete confusion. I had to get this right, pay him correctly and not offend him, was this still not enough? I tried to ask him “how much?” he didn’t understand, but I said “Is that ok?” and tested this with an international thumbs up…..was this ok? He seemed to say a sort of “yeah, but….?” I walked away, and he put the money in his pocket, waved and went on his merry way.

Later I found out that the journey should’ve been 3000 rupees, the look he gave me must’ve been a… “How the hell am I gonna give you change from this!?” Still, I’m glad he made a days wage in 15 minutes, it was a great ride, I took those bike cabs everywhere from that point on, and 20,000 rupees? Well, I’d say it was still a quarter of the price I would’ve paid for a cab in London to go the same distance……and god, so much more fun.