Hugging and biking in Delhi

Hugging the stomach of a motorcyclist with the intensity of a lover is not something I’ve done before. Don’t worry, the details are clean, and there’s no need to think of Police Academy’s Blue Oyster Bar. It’s just that I ended up in another of those situations where I question whether I’ve ever travelled before.

It was time to pay the hotel bill, they didn’t take Visa and I needed to go to a bank. Despite seeing a couple of ATMs coming home at night, they were apparently too far to walk to. Enter the hotel’s motorcyclist with the cuddly tummy. He said he’d take me and I agreed when I still thought we were walking. As he picked up his helmet I said “no, no, no” and shook my head like someone who has just been framed for murder.

And this is where things started to go really wrong. He put down the helmet, thinking I was too tough for the protection, instead of seeing the fear and loathing of being the second man on a bike. Too late. Even at the street, when he’s wheeling the bike in the right direction, I’m still hugging the kerb. Then his safe eyes invite me up and soon I’m gripping him like he’s saved my life.

After the cycle rickshaw in Chandigarh I never thought I’d get this close to the traffic again. When I was in primary school I doubled on a motorbike and burnt my leg on the exhaust pipe. It was a good lesson: stay off bikes. I broke the rule on holiday in the Greek Islands once to keep up with some more adventurous friends, riding behind them as slowly as the geeky cop in Police Academy.

So I have no idea what to do with my weight when this guy goes around corners, avoids a pothole, goes through a pothole, or dodges a bus. Except hang on - and I do it pretty well. While potential damage to my uncovered head is one ever-present thought, the other nagging one is what happens to my sticking-out knees if they are clipped by any of the many passing vehicles? Because of the seat, I can’t get them any closer together, so I just have to sit forward and think of Australia.

We get to the ATM, the money comes out, and I’m thinking this adventure isn’t too bad. The return trip is equally eventful and when we stop at the hotel I’m so hyped I walk off in a different direction.