Ziro tolerance: part II

The Sumo ride to Ziro was a fun (and somewhat dangerous) one, which often seem to go hand-in-hand in my choice of recreational and holiday activities.

Including me, there were nine passengers packed into the vehicle. The driver looked like a punk kid, having an arm tattoo, spiky hair, and wearing a black wife beater. There were five young guys in the front and back seats combined, and four women (including me) in the middle seats. After strapping our luggage to the roof, we pulled out of Naharlagun and began the winding, bumpy ride. This punk kid surprised me—he expertly maneuvered the uneven road boobytrapped with numerous craters, as well as the oncoming Sumos that appeared out of nowhere around the sharp corners.

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