Descending down to Lake Maninjau the bus driver had to negotiate 44 hair-pin bends. One misjudgment would have sent the bus hurling down the steep hillside and crushed us to bits as easily as King Kong crushing hostile fighter jets, and onto the frontpages of newspapers.
Pic: "Harmonius" bus speeding in Maninjau.
Signage at each bend with huge numbers painted on them helped in the countdown to the bottom of the hill.
As the driver swung his ageing and overloaded bus round each bend with nonchalant aplomb, I grew anxious and glanced worryingly at the plastic bags swinging from the grab handle above.
The spectacular view of the lake below took my mind off my discomfort.
At 4.30 pm the ancient bus roared into the sleepy town of Maninjau. Phew!
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