Bangladesh

We know we have arrived somewhere quite different before the plane has even taxied to the airport terminal. No sooner has the plane touched down than we hear the sound of dozens of seat-belts being unclipped. As we hurtle down the runway shaking furiously as the plane decelerates, one eager chap even gets out of his seat to retrieve his luggage from the overhead bins. This is all accompanied by the sound of numerous mobile phone conversations. On any normal airline this, at the very least, would have garnered some death stares from the cabin crew and I can easily imagine a fierce matron-esque steward emasculating the guy who is already making his way towards the door. Here however, on Bangladesh’s GMG airlines, the cabin crew look on with nonchalant indifference. Later a chap called Sallahudin, with whom we became friends, said to me “Here in Bangladesh we have many rules and regulations... but nobody follows them!”

The airport shuttle bus is stormed by an assaulting army of frenzied passengers, all intent on hitting the immigration line first. Some cling desperately to the door with one hand whilst holding onto their luggage with the other, apparently quite willing to risk life and limb in order to escape the tarmac five minutes quicker. In all this madness the only thing that surprises me is the bus driver ordering these people to get off so we can continue our journey in relative sanity.

In the airport terminal we are harried by whole squadrons of mosquitoes the size of wasps. One look at these beasts has me feeling aneamic and I realise we are probably in the wettest lowland tropical country in the world and the perfect breeding ground for prizewinning bloodsuckers.

The journey to the hotel is spent choking in diesel fumes and avoiding collisions with buses that look like they have been turned into a panel beaters idea of modern art. I begin to doubt that the all round damage to these vehicles could be caused by traffic accidents, surely that just isn't possible. I then witness a string of minor collisions in quick succession and realise anything is possible. Many of the cars here have mini bull bars installed around their bumpers, it seems RTA's are an accepted norm, perhaps even encouraged?

There are some places on this planet that defy adequate explanation and Dhaka is one of them. You can drag out all the old travel cliches, stack them one on top of each other and swallow them whole and you still wouldn't get close to summing this place up, it is pure bonkers! I'm going to go away and try to get something down that does Dhaka and you some kind of justice, for the moment you will just have to make do with a few photos.