Macho Man and Chickenshit watched us. We watched them. We all watched our bags. Geoff stood outside, then joined Chickenshit on the roof of the bus to secure the backpacks, but he had no option but to climb down when the bus started to move, leaving Chickenshit to rifle through the packs at leisure. We sat inside, deafened by the usual Felice Navidad on the distorted speakers, knowing what was happening on the roof.
Standard driving - more then 50% of the time on the wrong side of the road, lots of big gestures.
Next stop, Chickensit had finished with the bags (didn't take much - we didn't have much) and came back inside, draping himself over Macho Man, getting as close to the action as he could.
We were full pelt down the road, everything shaking and rattling, when Macho Man decided that Chickenshit could have a go at the wheel. No nancy-boy stopping for the change-over; not even the slightest slowing down. Macho Man slid forward in the driver's seat while Chickenshit oozed in behind him. The bus lurched and bumped as two sets of hands mauled the wheel and two sets of feet variously poked at the pedals. At about this stage we wished the offsider was back on the roof looting our bags - at least we would survive the experience!
An hour down the road we had a repeat performance of "The Performing Drivers and their Daring Full-speed Swap"
Amazing!!!!