AN HOUR FROM THE AIRPORT, inching along, I asked, “Is the traffic always this bad?” “No, today is Sunday. This is good.”
Dhaka is crowded, chaotic, confusing. If it is the beating heart of Bangladesh, she may well be about to have a cardiac arrest. But boring it is not. There are bazaar where the spices make your eyes water, boats and rickshaw and buses and chai wallahs and snacks and museums and palaces and cottage industries. Rickshaw capital of the world, see it to believe it.