Bad driving

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I'm safe and sound and alive and in Almaty, Kazakhstan. Credit for this achievement is entirely due to Lady Luck, and definitely not to the kamikaze fuckwit minivan driver who drove me and six other unfortunate passengers from Bishkek apparently believing he was in command of Saturn V.

Normally I don't bat an eyelid at being driven at 160Km/h, but when the driver has a penchant for overtaking straight into the path of oncoming trucks it worries me. At one stage we missed a combine harvester by less than 2 feet, and we had several similarly close shaves along the way.

The road into Almaty was like a scene from the Matrix, as we hurtled along weaving in and out of the traffic, including again the oncoming traffic, and as he tried to race another minivan driver to get to the bus station first.

He also loved the horn. If someone was moving slowly in the vicinity, he'd honk. If the traffic lights turned green, he'd honk instantly, even if he was ten cars back. If the car in front slowed down for a corner, he'd honk. If the car in front stopped at a junction instead of ploughing straight into the side of a passing bus, he'd honk. If he saw a girl he fancied, he'd honk. If he felt he wasn't honking often enough, he'd honk.

Just in case anyone was managing to remain entirely calm through this, he kept turning the heater on and locking the window shut, despite it being 29 Celsius outside.

So I'm safely in Almaty, but my nerves are still cowering in the corner in a sweaty, fried mess demanding to be fed neat brandy and sleeping pills.

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