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I am writing to you after having survived F1 in a tiny tinny can hurtling at supersonic speeds to one of the great wonders of the world, and at some point I thought I might be really buried there too. My survival is a testament my Lord’s protection and also in no small part due to the incredible driving skills of the man in the photo, plus a healthy dose of luck too I reckon… here is my story: Oh my! Oh dear! These are amongst the milder expressions going through my mind as I watch the driver weave through Delhi traffic, and come within a hair’s breath of the adjacent cars…. I after about one hour on the road, I have finished my prayers, decided that I should trust God and close my eyes to sleep, not just because I’m resigned to my fate, but I was genuinely tired after flying the red eye from SIN to Del and also immediately jumping into a hired car bound for the Taj Mahal. So about half a year back, I got an invitation to received an award in New Delhi and I was vacillating between flying in the very same morning and out the same night, but I figured a, my body couldn’t take the stress, and b, I might as well take a look at the famed Taj in Agra. I did some homework and discovered that you could take a car or bus and be there within four hours, or in my car, about three in my supersonic Suzuki Swift, and be back the very same evening. The other push factor was one of my colleagues was from Delhi and he could arrange the car, and another colleague was also keen so I had a travel buddy for this endeavour. However the flights were quite costly, and I wasn’t so keen to try Air India, but I found a flight combination that suited me, and one more person attending the same meeting offered to share his room with me, so I wasn’t too much out of pocket. So it was all set then! The aim was to get there as early as possible because it get to about 39 degrees in summer and it’s truly blazing. My plane lands at 6 plus in the morning and I figured I can get to the Taj before noon, and be under shelter before then. However, there are a few things you have to know about India…. firstly timing is elastic… which means when you get told 8am for example, it can be plus minus two hours, as I’ll discover later at the official dinner the following day. It’s 8.30am when I get picked up and in all likelihood I’ll face the brunt of the noon sun there, and my decision not to bring my sunglasses and hat is going to be a bad one that the sun will keep reminding throughout my trip. Second, the head shaking can express a multitude of replies. Ranging from yes to no to maybe or I don’t care, it may take a pHD to decipher that and I had to rely on my less than perfect google translate that my colleague and I were using to attempt with our Hindi only driver. However he did understand ’toilet’ because when I tapped him on the shoulder once, and said it, he almost immediately tore across five lane on the highway and came to a halt at the side of the road, leaving us in sheer terror, before he pointed backwards and said ’toilet’ then after a few seconds to gather our wits about us, we turned around and saw a rather well maintained public toilet situation a few metres behind the car. It was clean, with no smells and even soap, in the middle of nowhere on the highway. Remarkable I felt, considering that the public toilets in China were, shall we say ‘exotic’ to say the least… Now we did feel we should try our best to get there quickly so in all honesty, part of the F1 experience was our own fault.. I believe we did tell him to speed up so we could avoid the crowds and he did understand that part, yes I am confident of that. So despite only having a naturally aspirated 1.4l engine and a five speed gearbox, Delhi’s Senna did his best to propel us forward to our destination with the most haste and he demonstrated alacrity as he weaved through traffic firstly with great aplomb driving through non existent gaps in traffic with the smallest of margins. But this is Indian traffic for you and I must say, I have experienced it in Bangladesh and the old Beijing before. It’s synchrony of organised chaos, with traffic lines only there for show, and a scant regard for lane markers, plus a healthy use of the car horn liberally to let adjacent drivers be aware. Mind you isn’t horns used in fury, they are just employed to keep everyone aware of your presence and intentions, and somehow you can weave your way through traffic unscathed despite seemingly no space in between to do so. Once we reach the highway, the cacophony inside the car leads me to believe that we are truly going airborne, as we attempt take off as we approach expressway speeds. Once again the stipulated 90 kmh is only for reference as he adeptly coaxes the maximum out of the engine and take us up to sonic boom speeds. No matter how much fear you get, the fatigue of trying to fit a tall person into economy class sets in and the lack of sleep allows me to be lulled into some kind of slumber and each time I awake, he has shaved off another 50km towards Agra, where the Taj is. It’s 185km on the highway, which he gets to after fighting in Delhi traffic for about 40 minutes. A little background to the Taj