We arrived in Bangalore to glorious sunshine and heat. Our first impressions were of a bustling, busy, diverse, cosmopolitan, thriving city. Our disappointment that the hotel we were hoping to stay in had been converted into yet another faceless international chain; (and one that was way out of our price range at that) quickly faded as we settled in to witness the city lit up by Diwali celebrations.

There were blankets of lights over Brigade Road and rangolis at the entrance of most shops and hotels.Unlike Bonfire Night fireworks were let off in the street yards away from passers-by, cars and dogs.Being relatively new to this we found ourselves startled to near death when a firecracker went off near us. It felt like a sensory battle on all fronts; the traffic, the noise, the people, the crackers and the pavements...

Mysore became a romantic idyll of tranquillity in our minds as we negotiated Bangalore. The roads, well the traffic consisted of autorickshaws, buses (made by the state transport corporation,and looking like they were made in the 1950's), scooters, and super fast power motorbikes, along with the ubiquituous cattle, dogs, goats, and of course cars.

The traffic lights gave us false hope of traffic actually stopping to let people through.. most junctions had both traffic lights and traffic police to direct and stop traffic. It took at least twenty minutes for us to cross the road, and that was on a good day!

What we are realising about driving in India, is that you don't slow down whatever the circumstance, because, we think, that means changing gear, which we guess could result in cognitive overload as people have to process so many things on the move, never mind watching out for cattle and people. So whatever it is you are driving, truck, rickshaw, car or motorbike, the art is to manoeuvreyour way from point A to B without ever having to change gear. This means, a thrilling ride for most passengers and pedestrians.

Generally no-one uses indicators, everyone uses horns to indicate some intent or other - this seems to mean I'm turning left, right, doing a u-turn, overtaking on the inside/outside, move or I'll runyou over, I'm coming through, my brakes have failed and whatever else you can think of. In fact on most larger vehicles you quite often see 'Horn OK Please' delicately painted on to encourage this form of madness. Whilst this is happening pedestrians walk out into the traffic in desperation seemingly taking the no gear attitude on themselves refusing to stop and look and taking advantage of any tiny gap or lull in the traffic flow.

Talking of gears, whilst travelling on the buses, you get a really good view of the driver's steering action and footwork... like not putting your foot down on the clutch to change gear, steering a twenty-tonne vehicle, whilst talking on your mobile and turning rightat a junction... where everybody has the right of way. It's not for the faint hearted!

We got the hang of using the buses quite quickly in Bangalore, they were frequent, the safest mode of transport on the roads, well used and the destination was shouted out of windows as they stopped. We had to love them, partly because the apartment we stayed in was on the ORR (outer ring road), it took a couple of buses and sometimes hours to get home. Most buses had a ladies section at the front usually with an outline of a pretty lady with a bindi on her head, so the first 10 women definitely got a seat on the bus. We nearly mastered the art of swinging on and off moving buses. They were quite often packed to make use of every inch of space including the engine cover next to the driver where often kids were sat. We saw other buses with people literally hanging off the doors and other people hanging off them! We so wish our bus had stopped for a second so we could have got a picture of that. But a Bangalore bus waits for no man, woman or moment. On one of our final journeys in Banglore we insisted that we be let off the bus, as they couldn't possibly let any more passengers on even though they kept stopping to pick people up; we believed we were going to be another crowd suffocation headline in the dailies. Of course, like otherBangaloreans we persevered and live to tell the tale.

Having said that the traffic did come to a standstill on more than one occasion; the occasion usually being that of a rally by a political party. On one such rally there was a scandal suggesting the buses had been appropriated by the politicians to hold the rally so were scarce that day with the bus station filling with people. Reading this in the paper the next day explained why it took us three hours to get home that night.We noticed on that and other nights that bikersand autos became so impatient at traffic lights that they drove on pavements busy with people.

Walking has its own hazards with or without traffic. Where there were pavements we found remnants of old steel rods poking out of the ground (presumably old bus stops or roadside structures), crazy paving that had gone into sectionable territory as each paving stone had come loose and created its own unique vertical and horizontal pattern. Pot holes, paving slabs that are broken and tilted, rubble and rubbish (for a city with a cosmopolitan, modern, fast developing reputation, Bangalore has yet to tackle flytipping and rubbish disposal effectively as the newspapers regularly document). It was really hard on Brigade Road to gawp at the pretty Diwali lights and other sights without falling flat on our faces. It certainly added an interesting, slant to every 'trip' we took.