Junctions (and more U-turns)

Lahore has some of the most splendidly unwieldy junctions I've ever had the pleasure of being stuck in the middle of.  Imagine a crossroads between two 5-lane dual carriageways.  I say lanes, but that's not strictly accurate - it's actually a space for driving on approximately 5 vehicles wide, sometimes with some lane markings which are taken as loose suggestions.  At traffic lights, 7 or 8 queues of traffic will squeeze into the same 5-vehicle-wide space.

Anyway.  Now imagine that each of those dual carriageways has a service road on each side, giving access to the nearby buildings.  Oh, and each service road is bi-directional (though due to parked cars, usually only wide enough for one vehicle at a time).  The dual carriageways have traffic lights; the service roads don't necessarily, so people go when there's a gap, regardless of the vehicle:gap size ratio.

Also, when the traffic starts to move, one has to take into account the variety of different speeds, accelerations and turning circles of the various vehicles - a heavily-laden donkey cart being very different in manoeuvrability to a family on a motorbike, or an overflowing bus.

So as you approach the junction, you have at least an initial 5 lanes to choose from, followed by a choice of no less than 12 different potential exits, 3 of which - joy of joys! - would qualify as U-turns.

Needless to say, every change of the traffic light brings a new supply of chaos way beyond the capabilities of the single hapless policeman. Somehow though, it seems to work.

SWH project extra - visual progress report

Frame 1-and-a-bit out of 10.

Anyone need to stick together any Synthetic Muslims?
(I suspect it's the equivalent of "guaranteed to not be made of pigs".)

We'll make the frames into portable section like this,
then assemble out at the site, like a big lego set.

First rough layer of concrete.

Indicators & U-turns

Having done a little bit of motorway driving on our trip to Lahore, and being a passenger on some of the more unruly roads, I have now learned a new exciting aspect of Pakistani driving; namely, the use of indicators.

Scenario: you are driving along the main road in a town. (It is a dual carriageway, with a wall in between. Periodically there are gaps in the wall to allow traffic access to side streets on the opposite side, or for making a U-turn. Making a U-turn is something one does a lot here.  U-turn is your friend.) Ahead of you is a vehicle in the nearside lane - on the left - but indicating right. What could this mean?

Here are a few of the possible alternatives:

• I intend to move into the right-hand lane.
• I intend to make a U-turn.  We like U-turns.
• I intend to overtake something.
• I'm letting you overtake me on the right.
• I'm letting you overtake me on the right, but once you've started to overtake me I'll have a change of heart and decide I want to go right after all.  I hope your horn's working.
• My lights have some unorthodox wiring and those are actually my brake lights.  The blue ones are my indicators.
• I actually intend to turn left - signals are for wusses.
• Some of the above.
• All of the above.
• None of the above.

SWH project part 8 - business dealings

Last week Mr P and I took a trip down to Lahore to pick up a bunch of materials. A few dealers in the Pindi metal market (which is much closer) appear to have something of a monopoly, making the trip worthwhile (copper is Rs1000/kg in Lahore, Rs1600/kg in Pindi: no contest).  After driving down one day, we went out to collect the stuff we had ordered on the next day.

an early morning start

At home such a visit might have lasted 10 minutes or so; long enough to give it a once over, pay, and shove it in the back of the van.  Here:  6 hours.

It's all about the relationship, you see.  After a couple of hours and 10 years' worth of "how's your family, etc", we finally got to see the stuff we'd come for.  Then it was lunchtime, so obviously we had to stay for a leisurely meal of spiced barbecued salmon and naan.  Then Mr P went off with the proprietor on his scooter on another short errand (in a market not easily accessible by van), while I stayed to supervise the loading of the van.  The thing was:  my task took 20 minutes; his took 2.5 hours...

van full of shiny things

Then the 8-hour journey back on the next day.  I still find it amazing that the last 100 or so kilometres takes almost as long as the preceding 400 up the motorway.

Some other miscellaneous observations:

• There's a stretch of road a little way down the KKH which is lined with orange stalls for a couple of kilometres - amazing.

• On the way down the Salt Range we saw a broken down bus.  They'd obviously decided that on sharp double bend on a 7% slope on the motorway was an ideal place to change it's rear differential and drive shaft - which were sitting out in the first lane of the motorway.

part of the Salt Range

• At home we have that road sign with the stag on it to warn of the potential of animals on the road.  Here, they have specific signs for jackals, porcupines and turtles.
• In Lahore we passed what must have been a rubbish dump, with literally thousands of kites on or circling above it - I've hardly ever seen that many birds in one place, let alone birds of prey.
• At one point in the bazaar, a chap came past delivering an ice cube.  An ice cube 3 feet long, which he dragged along the ground behind him with a big pincer thing.
• Near the place we were staying there was a guy selling various colours of fish in plastic bags, like you might find at the fairground.  But in two of the little bags were little turtles!
• The place we were staying had lots of interesting birds in the grounds, including hoopoes and a magnificent golden woodpecker.  Oh, and people's chickens - it was odd to be woken by the cockerel (or 3) rather than the call to prayer!

Hoopoe

• On the evening of the second day we went to visit a friend of Mr P's for dinner, a little way away.  Barrelling along through the darkness between the traffic, 3 on a motorbike, with no helmets on, was massively exhilarating, though not without that nagging feeling of "this is really stupid!"
• They're busy widening parts of the road between the hospital and the nearest town.  Pakistani roadworks are something to behold, particularly when widening the road involves moving a cliff/mud face back 20 feet.

I'm watching you!

Pakistani roadworks

At home, the digging of the foundations has progressed a little:

trenches

Unfortunately, the last few days have seen continuous medium-to-heavy rain, postponing our concreting work.

SWH project part 7 - the real thing

Notice the exciting lack of the word 'prototype' in this post's title.

Yesterday we started digging. I say 'we' - I actually mean one or two of the workshop guys. It's not that I don't want to help dig; it's mainly that they won't let me. I would actually quite like to help dig, but I have a suspicion that they take my suggestions of helping out as a kind of mild insult to their ability to get the job done. I wonder how they would take it if I just grab a spade from somewhere and join in. I digress.

But it would be faster if I joined in. Just saying.

Anyway, we started digging foundations for our forthcoming batch of solar panels. Having dubbed the prototype a success, for the last few weeks I've been working on the design of the bigger system, which should provide around 1000 litres of hot water to the laundry.

It might end up looking something a little like this:
















The design work is very much an iterative process, as I keep having to alter the design to accommodate that material that is only available in this size, always assuming of course that you actually know what you've bought. But we seem to now be at a point of more-or-less being able to start building. I expect that as we build we'll get through a couple more design iterations.

Here is one of my friends not letting me dig:



















They've also been cutting blocks of wood into planks to build the frames of the panels. The planer leaves something of a mess:



















Drilling holes for bolts in the angle-iron leg. The 1/2" drill doesn't want to go through 1/4" steel. As usual, safety gear is optional - even if you could find some:



















And welding parts of the legs together. At least he's wearing his sunglasses: