Getting directions in India can be a gnarly experience. Be sure that if you have to get somewhere, you have a cell phone handy and a knowledgeable person to drive you around.
If you are used to directions from Yahoo, forget that useful tool! It doesn’t work here.
The reason why it is a frustrating experience to get directions is that, for starters, maps are hardly used, and combine that with the fact that street names are hardly used. The best guide for charting the choppy, potholed roads is to look for landmarks.
Awhile ago, I had to visit an extended family member in Juhu in Bombay and got details on how to reach their place, complete with the number of traffic signals, the bridges to cross, etc. As an afterthought, she happened to mention that they are a stone's throw from Ambitabh Bachchan's old house. Amitabh Bachchan (aka Big B) is an Indian film superstar who is Clint Eastwood and De Niro rolled into one. Apparently the Big B has two houses in Juhu. I tucked that last piece of info away and hopped into the car.
I read the instructions to the person driving the car and checked to see if he understood the directions. "No problem, we will ask," he assured me in Hindi. We ran into problems right after we pulled out of the hotel gate. The guy was clueless in Mumbai.
We pulled next to an auto-rickshaw driver and asked him the directions to the first flyover/bridge we had to cross. We made a series of unscheduled stops to get the directions, and finally, I took charge and simply asked, "Where is Amitabh Bachchan's house?" All the light bulbs went off, and suddenly we got great directions to Big B's place.
Reaching Big B's place was just the first part of the journey. My host had to drive down, and we followed them back to their home.
My takeaway from this experience was that anytime you have to drive, do not ask for directions, but ask for landmarks and use your cell phone to complete the last leg of the trip.
My second foray to a new destination was a little bit more successful. I had to go to an advocate’s (a lawyer) place in Navi Mumbai (New Bombay) and called the aforementioned office to get directions.
"Hello, may I get the address and directions to your office?" I asked.
"Where are you madam?" (I mentioned where I was put up. Remember, a question is always answered by a question.)
"Do you know the Vashi bus depot?" she asked. (I did not know the depot, but I answered yes.)
"We are close to the depot, next to Bombay Mercantile Bank" she responded.
"What is the name of the road where the bank is located?" I asked.
"I don't know madam. But ask anybody; they will know BMC," she said. BMC, I figured, was the bank.
"May I get the address?" I asked.
"Please note down...," she replied.
Armed with driving instructions, we drove down to Vashi Depot and spotted BMC.
Triumphant that we had landed at the landmark, I called the advocate's office on my mobile and asked for the final set of instructions to reach their office.
"Hello, I am in front of BMC," I announced to the receptionist.
"Which side of the bank are you on?" she asked.
Flummoxed, I looked around and noticed that we were the crossroads of a major intersection and staring straight up the bank. Of course, there was no name for the road.
"Well, I can see the front of the bank," I responded.
"I, too, can see the front of the bank," she responded.
Puzzled, I looked around trying to locate the office.
"Do you see Perfect Driving School?" she asked.
We spotted the landmark and answered in the affirmative.
"We are close to the school," she offered in explanation.
Armed with the last piece of perfect information, we made a U-turn, turned right at the intersection, and parked in front of the school.
Guess what? The advocate's office was set back from the road and flanked by a series of real estate offices. Relieved, I got out of the car and headed to the advocate's office.
What happened there is a whole other story.