The last two years have been terribly hectic and altogether delicious. Back to back travels, living out of a bag, fingers frayed away typing and slightly thicker glasses – the kind of fatigue that makes you sigh in contentment. With more than comfortable hours spent on the roads, I sometimes reflect and feel thankful to the wonderful company I’ve found on my travels; the most significant companions that make all the difference when you are on a deadline – the cab drivers!

The biggest lesson learnt? Trust.

My first New Year/ Diwali etc wishes on texts/ what’s app always come from trusted friends who have driven me for days, shared their stories, taken me home to meet their family and most of all ensured that I have been safe through my travels. Always willing to stretch beyond hours for me to finish a deadline, extend their local contacts to get special access and regale me with riveting local stories, I can never be grateful enough to the cab drivers that I’ve travelled with.

Despite challenging deadlines and weather conditions, my most memorable trips for the year have been on the west coast and norhern Karnataka. There is one particular leg of the journey that I will not forget for a long time to come. Blame it on language barrier, awry sense of hospitality or just plain rotten luck, I found myself huffing out of a guest house in Jog Falls at 6 in the evening, hoping to find a bus to my next stop, Dandeli. The 170 km ride in the hills and blinding rain in July would have taken me about 4-5 hours on multiple buses. The night already pacing in, relentless rain and a massive backpack did not add up to the most conducive setting to be venturing out, but well, I did. Caving into spending some extra thousands for convenience, I decided to take a cab. After much cajoling and bargaining, an Omni van inched reluctantly from the stand.

The next five hours were seemingly menacing, but only from the point of view of the weather. Most of the journey was on a pot-holed road, flanked by the jungles. Young Pervez, drove through risky rain battered roads, in the thick of the night, constantly talking to me, ensuring that I reached my destination safe and sound. Ofcourse, he was curious if I was scared about going with him at night, alone, the usual string of whys, what’s, marriage, family, his own situation etc – but all well meaning. After we had chatted for the first half hour, he was less nervous about driving a woman in the dead of the night.  The ordeal for me finished at midnight and Pervez insisted on driving back to Jog Falls that very minute. I always be in gratitude to him for not only ensuring that I reached safely that night, but in instilling a sense of trust in my head – forever!

Many may find this reckless advice for solo women travellers and I understand why. But sometimes you just HAVE to trust in order to travel solo. Ofcourse, it’s with a sense of personal judgment, but sometimes you have to let your safety be in the hands of others and it’s alright. At the end of the day you are likely to etch a huge sense of trust in humanity, which seems to be dwindling at a fast pace.