Traveling by bus in India always provides adventures and all kinds of surprises. It’s like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates. Early one morning, on November 11th, 2016 in a town called Dhar, I waited as the sun rose on a chilly morning for the bus to Mandu. Tea stalls were steaming in the cold, and patrons, including myself, huddled around the tea wallahs’ warm coal fires. I bought a banana from a cart for breakfast. I was wearing all the clothes I had to keep warm, but the sun was warm once it cleared the buildings nearby. The bus arrived and these handsome fellows and I were the first riders. It was going to be a long, rough trip, at times I wished I had four legs.