And you thought the Formula 1 races were in some swanky European city like Monte Carlo.

Apparently Khajaraho has one of it's own kick ass drivers and his name is Santosh and he drives this beast of a vehicle. Santosh had been Ant's pick for a rickshaw driver because he was the least annoying and a pain in the ass when we were accosted when we got off the bus from Jhansi. We got to our hotel without a hitch. Santosh did the usual song and dance about a ride to a local waterfall, etc but he was very chill about it.

After going to the smutty temples, we realized that we had way more time than we expected and a waterfall might be a good idea. We regretted not arranging something with Santosh because he seemed a decent guy. We spoke with our hotel wallah and asked for him to arrange a rickshaw to the falls and he said for the same price, we could do another set of temples. The guy he got was Santosh! Rock on!!

We wind up chatting with him a bit and got to liking him. He's 18 and has been driving the rickshaw for a year. It shows. He drives like every 18 yr old, he loves to swerve, speed, and thinks he's a race car driver.

We got to the waterfalls, chilled for a while, climbed on some rocks, chat, and sipped chai. Ant confused yet another person with his "what do you like about your job?" question. Most of the people he asks this question have this look of complete confusion on their faces. As if to say, "Who cares about liking my job, at least I have one." Anyway, our guide translated for Ant and Santosh readily admitted he likes to drive like a Formula 1 driver. No shit. I never would have guessed from the number of cows whose asses we almost drove into.

After many giggles and laughes, we left. I noticed he kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror and giggling some more. When we stopped for me to take a photo of the sunset, Santosh asked us to come to his house. Normally, house=shop/emporium/place to get money out of you but for some reason, I had a good feeling about this offer so we accepted.

And I'm glad we did.

We pull off the main road onto a dirt path. After more crazy turns we stop at a modest building. Santosh's father comes out to greet us. I don't remember his name, but he was a good looking older guy with a cheery smile. He invited us in to sit. Tea was brought around for all and we met Santosh's mom, a really cute and bubbly lady who giggles more than an Indian schoolgirl whose seen Ant.

We learned from Santosh's Dad that he too used to do the rickshaw thing, but he rode a cycle rickshaw for 20 years, then an auto one like Santosh for 8. Now he is retired, owns his own home (which ain't bad BTW) and is buying more property. He had no formal schooling, but he learned English from tourists and speaks it better than Santosh who learned it in school. Santosh is going to be heading off for college and hopes to get a civil service position. We were shown many photos and Santosh was embarassed like any other 18 rear old would be at pics of his younger days.

Then it was my turn for embarassment. Santosh suggested his mother dress me in a sari. She laughed really hard at this. We went into a backroom, she whipped our a petticoat type thing, and a sari. The grandmother figure came in for the fun as well, and they argued over how to drape me. After compromising, Santosh's mom whacked my boobs because they were too exposed (in a total coverage tshirt of course) and giggled some more. She presented me to Ant, who laughed his ass off. We took photos and Santosh asked Ant if he could take one with me. Why didn't he just ask me??? Either way, he was very shy about it, and also very cute.

Finally it was time to leave because our ability to communicate on new subjects was wearing thin. It was a great ending to a beautiful day. In the end, I learned that not ALL rickshaw drivers suck, just 99.99999% of em. :)