Chapter 1. Delhi to Pushkar

Chapter 2. Arambol to Fort Cochin and back again

Chapter 3. Singapore to Bangkok

Chapter 4. Koh Phangan to Pangadaran

Chapter 5. Yogyakarta to Exmouth

Chapter 6. Adelaide to Brisbane

Chapter 7. Noosa to Mount Maunganui

Chapter 8. Auckland to Home



5.08 pm Tuesday 16 January 2007 and my 44th birthday. My brother dropped me at the tube station near to his house and we said our brief goodbyes, as brothers do. I didn't know when or where I would see him again but I suspected that a lot of water might have passed under my bridge before I did.

The flight from Heathrow left on time and was comfortable. I slept for some of the night as the miles drifted by and the clock turned. When I awoke, the black of night outside the window had been replaced with the blazing blue sunshine of day and we were beginning our descent into Delhi.

This was the beginning, 9 months in the planning, years in the heart, would it really be everything I wanted it to be or was the reality to prove that what I was really looking for was under my nose all along? Would I last 9 months or 9 weeks? I was so out of my comfort zone and very alone, nervous but excited. No suits, no meetings, no 9 to 5, new people, places, experiences. The 737 pulled up to the terminal and the seat belt sign turned off.

I approached India with some considerable trepidation having read many things about it that left me less than impressed. The crazy traffic, the pollution, the noise, open urinals in the streets, spitting, scams and likelihood of being run over several times a day, plus the prospect of being mobbed by a hoard or screaming touts as you set foot out of the arrivals hall of the airport…there was plenty of reasons to be tense.

To be honest I was pleasantly surprised by the situation and by my reactions. Yes, all of the above is true to an extent but it was tempered with a spirit of a people at peace with themselves and their lives, mixed with the fact that this is a generally a very poor country and most people are just trying to make something approaching a living. It is almost that they accept that whatever role they have been dished out to them in the tombola of life's chances, whether it be Bollywood superstar or the poor bloke pushing bits of metal up a hill on a wooden cart, they accept that such is the will of their God and get on with it. India is very spiritual and religious place and most rickshaw drivers for example will have a little figure or picture of their Gods on the dashboard. While on many a street corner people will stop when shopping or on the way to work, and pray a moment at an impromptu shrine.

I soon found that there is technique to keep the locals generally happy even when you don't want a tuk tuk, a sari, a watch or any one of the thousands of other products and services on offer. My approach seemed to work most of the time; show respect, don't make eye contact, a slight shake of the head (not to much as too much as 'no' can look like 'yes') and whatever you do keep walking. Yes, in an average day in Delhi you will receive a lot of attention but keep your cool and make a joke now and again and everyone retains their perspective on the situation. My joke, as cycle rickshaw drivers would shout 'hello rickshaw', was to point both fore fingers down to my feet and then criss cross the same fingers in a walking motion in front of my chest. It did the trick.

Delhi is a challenging City there is no doubt of that but it has plenty to offer. I had three days there, which is enough if the noise, pollution and attention is not your idea of relaxed sightseeing. Part of day one involved the usual orientation in a new City and I soon discovered that Delhi actually has a very good underground train system. It's not extensive and you can't get to all the main attractions on it but if you use it as your base transport and mix and match with cycle rickshaw and motor tuk tuk it's a great combination. The metro is clean, cheap, safe and efficient, I loved it.

One of the highlights of the City is the bizzar Chandni Chowk which leads up to the magnificent frontage of the Red Fort, a testament to past emperor glories. I've never seen anything like Chandi Chowk, it's a single straight road of a mile or more, with numerous off shoots teaming with every type of small store and a traffic congestion like you would not believe. Imagine two lanes of road and six sets of vehicle all trying to get up and down it at once. Rickshaws, scooters, lorries, pedestrians, taxis, private cars, cows, goats and motorbikes all hooting continuously to say 'mind your back', 'get over', 'coming through' and 'you idiot!'

The diversity of stores is amazing, no planning permission here. Its tea store next to engineering shop, cloth seller to tyre change and so it goes on. Fascinating, intoxicating, frustrating, smelly and down right unhealthy, but a must see. Take time to walk from the Chandni Chowk metro station up Chandi Chowk road to the Red Fort. Be careful at the end as you have to cross a mad main road to get to the fort entrance and there are no such things as pedestrian crossings here, in fact drivers think twice about obeying the traffic signals.

The Red Fort gives you an impression of the opulent magnificence of the mogul emperors. Its high red walls and imposing entrance sweep you into an inner calm of tended gardens with smaller royal buildings that in their day were majestic both in terms of their white marble constructions and decoration of gold leaf and ornate paintings. There is a small museum of artifacts of interest but the real value is in imagining the emperor's lifestyle and how it must have contrasted with the standard of living endured by those outside of the red walls. If such architecture is your thing take a couple of hours for Huyamun's Tomb in the south of Delhi. He was another former emperor and his tomb is seen as a precursor to the Taj Mahal.

On to the imposing India Gate I went. It is impressive with a huge arch straddling a long straight road through the center of the City, and commemorates the fallen soldiers of India. Again it's a must if you like architecture. Delhi like India is a country of stark contrasts, the magnificence of the Red Fort and India Gate verses the crippling poverty of those at the bottom of society, living by the railway tracks near Old Delhi station in shanty huts and eating scraps. This is real poverty. I suspect you need some time to understand it but people I met shed some light on it. It seems that whether you are a beggar or a prince you are the product of your soul's behavior in former lives and so you get little pity if your lot is terrible because apparently you deserve it! In order to progress out of a terrible life you need to lead a good life now and then those credits will count for you when your next set of circumstances come round.

That first night in Delhi was for me, as I discovered it is for many travelers on their first big excursion. Talking to others in those early days they found themselves alone, a long way from their loved ones in a rather uncomfortable bed in a cheap room. After all the up of getting started I guess there had to be an adjustment down. Tomorrow is another day I thought…

It was an early start from Nizaddin railway station in the south of Delhi to take the two hour train journey to Agra, home of one of the most iconic buildings in the world, the Taj Mahal. At 7am the platform was full, awaiting the 7.15 departure and as the train pulled into view the crowd began to jostle for position. I surveyed each coach as it passed for the C1 coach that I needed to occupy and sure enough it swept by right to left and disappeared down the platform. At last the huge locomotive juddered to a standstill and the scrum ensued for the 3rd class seats. It was obvious that these were not bookable in advance, being the cheapest on offer, and so men, women and children gave up on polite charm, pushing and shoving their way through the doors and into the empty wooden benches.

With my laden rucksack I pushed my way down the line to coach 1 almost being squashed beneath huge bales of some commodity being loaded into a sidecar. The coach was noisy with bags and bottles, sacks and saris with people pouring over the seat numbers to find their space. Mine was 12 and I sank into it gratefully next to a nice Indian couple and their toddler who I guessed was around 20 months. Almost on time the 'Taj Express' dragged itself out of the station into the morning mist and ambled, horn sounding through the Delhi suburbs which were difficult to make out through the stained windows. The baby was lively and clingy but after an hour both the baby and I were asleep and it was thanks to the kind spirit of my neighbor that Agra didn't sail by with me still on board.

On arrival, my first feeling was to go straight to the ticket office and book my route out in two days time. With the help of friendly locals I found the office tucked away and discovered that buying a railway ticket is not as easy as you might think or wish. First there was a pink form to fill in with all the usual, passport number, arrival in India, departure from India, number of toes on left foot. My new found friends then advised me that a deluxe bus was a better option to Jaipur, my next port, and I duly resigned from the post of prospective railway passenger for the time being.

The budget hotel was good and clean although the hardness of the beds take getting used to, and a rather distinct shortage of hot water but what do you want for five pounds a night. It had private bathroom and TV! As someone told me in Delhi 'by the end of this year you will be able to sleep anywhere!' Once settled, the owners were very helpful and I decided that the order of the day was an excursion to Fatipur Sikri, 40 km from Agra and accessible by local bus service. Fatpur Sikri is described as a ghost city deserted by its inhabitants centuries ago when the water all dried up. My mind conjured images of tumble weed blowing across empty boulevards built by mogul emperors. Silly me! There is no where in India where there are no people. The ancient walled city is impressive a top the hill with its huge entrance arch and red sandstone walls encompassing a large open inner courtyard of tombs, a temple and other outbuildings which served the royal guests and workers. I spent a very interested couple of hours admiring the architecture as I had in Delhi and ambled around the surrounds, watching amongst other things the fabulous hand skills of the stone masons creating large new slabs of perfect flat red sandstone, with just hand tools for repairs to various walls and buildings.

Outside the calm of the hilltop however was a different matter. At the hill bottom was the usual village bazaar, teaming with every kind of food and service known to man. Everything can be mended here, it's a skill born of necessity. I rumbled through the throng as usual to the many 'hellos' 'where froms' 'auto tuk tuk' until I reached the square where the buses run back to Agra every half hour. There I met two travelers from Germany, also fresh into Agra, but weary from two months in India without a break. They would be going home in a few days but first, like me, they looked forward to seeing dawn at the Taj the following morning. It was at that moment that I was pleased to have decided only to spend a couple of weeks in mid India before flying down to Goa. India is fascinating but also hard work especially on a budget and I did not want to find myself in the position of no longer enjoying it due to being worn down by an assault on the senses day after day.

Dinner was a typically simple affair for this area, nan bread, daal and rice. Nice enough for now but I couldn't eat it for a week. One of the truisms of life is that photos rarely capture the true character of a place. For me this was most apparent in a trip a few years ago to Venice. I had grown up having seen many photos and films of Venice but when I finally came to visit the city its magic entranced me and it was alive in a whole new way. Such was the experience again today of the Taj Mahal. We have all seen it many times, perhaps the most famous picture being Princess Diana on her solo visit some years ago. Even today one of the first questions asked by many was 'where did Diana sit?' and they duly had their photo taken at the same bench. I made a point of rising early to see the Taj, sunrise being when it is said to look most spectacular. I set out in the cold and dark January morning with my auto rickshaw that deposited me close to the west gate. There were few people about and the buying of a ticket was an easy affair although the price to foreigners of 750R was the most I'd paid for any attraction. After the usual security frisk I was into the inner gardens with the large entrance gateway arch before me. A grey mist hung in the air and as I set my first view on the magnificent structure, the assembled group marveled at its white marbled majesty even in the poor light. Like the Karnak Temple in Egypt, the contrast between the Taj and the state of life immediately outside the walls couldn't be more stark. Inside, the unlimited wealth that had been lavished on this mausoleum and outside the desperate existence of a people living with open sewers, just surviving day to day.

Slowly the light level increased but still the sun did not brink above the skyline until, like the opening of a theatre performance, suddenly the spotlight caught the star of the show and it shone down one side in gold and silver and white. The Taj was purposely built on a raised platform so that its backdrop is only sky which gives it added impact. Slowly the curtain lowered on a clear mist free morning and the building lit up as if it were the first time it had ever been seen. True, it was like no photo, its presence, magic, magnificent. How could this have been built in the 15th Century? The craftsmanship of inlaid lotus flowers in white marble, each cut from 70 pieces of semi precious stone and intricate panels crafted from the hardest white marble of the time. This must be on a par with the pyramids I thought, for illustrating the ability of mankind to achieve the impossible. I know my photos, of which I took many, will not capture that either. I guess that is one of the reasons to be there, that media is never equal to the experience.

  After a couple of hours drinking in the sights sounds and smells of the Taj, I studied my map and saw that after coffee at the Yash rooftop café, a walk up to the Agra Fort was very practical. Of course as soon as you try to do so the rickshaws descend and we begin the daily 'no thank you I'm walking' routine. The rickshaws find it difficult to understand why a 'rich' westerner should want to walk in the midday sun when for a few rupees they could ride. No affluent Indian person would do so. 'Mr. Walk, Mr. Walk' they named me and smiled as if to think stupid English!

After a week in India and a 6 hour bus journey from Agra I arrived in the capital City of Rajasthan, Jaipur also known as the Pink City. Indeed many of the buildings are pink, particularly in the old city where the usual hustling bazaars are to be found in great quantity. I must admit that after a week of dust, forts, temples, and every conceivable shop known to man, Jaipur didn't fill me with anticipation for a different kind of India experience. However, I remained open minded and set off after breakfast wit the rickshaws pursuing me down the road.

My first target was the Palace of the Winds, a world monument and the most famous sight in the City, a five storey intricate façade created in pink sandstone in 1799. Its delicately carved stone lattice work allowed ladies of the royal household to spy the actions in the street without being seen. The outside is beautiful, set on the busiest road you have ever seen. I couldn't see this being acceptable in Europe. Surely by now the authorities would have pedestrianised this area to keep the pollution from eating this fabulous and unique monument. Only in India. The inside was much less impressive, having been stripped of any character over the years but it did allow me to stand where those royal ladies had stood, hidden by the latice and surveying the crowds below.

I spent a pleasant hour in the tranquil courtyards of the City Palace with its largest single piece of silverware in the world, its impressive arms room and peacock paintings above the doorways in the inner most courtyard. Close by I climbed to the top of a minaret tower in the City centre that affords wonderful views of the City in every direction with the Amber fort on the mountainside being of worthy note. Just a few meters away was Janta Mantar observatory, a fascinating place that reminded me of a modern water park with high curved slides. In fact these oddly shaped sculptures built in 1728 were the first to accurately track and record the movements and annual cycles of the sun and the stars of the zodiac in their orbits.

Westerners get a lot of attention on the streets of Jaipur especially at times of the year when we are few and far between. Another traveler likened us to large mobile dollar bills and why wouldn't that attract attention. On any given day I probably received sixty plus people saying something to get my attention. Rickshaws of course top the charts, then children just looking to test their English or provoke a laugh with their friends. I must admit to being saddened though because you soon feel that anything that is said to you in the street is not a genuine interest in your visit to India or a wish to know more about you but instead a thinly veiled sidebar to usher you into some or form of transaction. The result I'm afraid is that you soon begin to avoid all such attentions and become detached from any opportunity to talk to the people who I really would like to know more about. Perhaps I should try a new tack in Jaiselmer. Go along with the script, but press them with some questions about their everyday life and see what happens. Note to self.

Sometimes however there are funny encounters. Today for example I had many of the usual 'hello sir how are you?', 'excuse me sir' and even 'do you not like talking with India people sir?' all of which I smiled waved and kept walking. Then to my side in the old city bazaar he appeared, suited in white (well white ish) jacket and trousers with a splendid red sash. Obviously part of a band practicing for the Republican Day celebrations which take place every 26th January. Over his arm he cradled his instrument a silver trombone 'you like to blow the trombone sir?' I looked at him and the trombone and laughed. No trombone blowing today thanks.

I have to say though that there is nothing vindictive about India or Indian people. I always feel very safe here, the people I find passive and essentially friendly and even in the honking chaos of rush hour traffic you don't find anyone hanging out of the car window furious fist waving and shouting. It's all very calm really.

There is only one train to Jaiselmer from Jaipur, the night sleeper that leaves at 11.57pm arriving 1.30pm the following day. The platform was busy as an ants' nest. I learned that a three-day festival was due to take place in Jaiselmer from the 31st which meant that people would be traveling there now to ready for the spectacle. Jaiselmer is far to the west of Delhi, Agra and Jaipur on the edge of the Thar Dessert. I found my seat in the AC3 sleeper compartment quite easily. There were two Indians couples already installed from Delhi on there way for a short holiday to the same destination. The ladies were in bed but the men were still chatting and welcomed me showing me where my seat and berth lay. I settled in. First a young German man arrived and claimed his place opposite and then four Korean young women. Somehow the railway reservations computer system had managed to produce two sets of reserved tickets for the same two seats, SC1 - 25 and 26. It was late now, after 12.20am and the train was pulling out of the station. We sat and waited for the conductor to understand why this had happened. After 20 minutes he arrived, reviewed the tickets and declared the Korean girls were invalid. The leader of their group was more than anxious about this and protested that these were confirmed reservations booked a year ago. The conductor disappeared, reappeared, disappeared again and finally led the young women off down the train to somewhere they could sleep. By now we were all ready for sleep and the bunks were put up. I tried to convince myself that the rocking motion of the train would help me to go off to sleep but it really didn't. Suffice to say I had a broken night of sleep but enough to feel refreshed by 9am.

For the last few hours we read and gazed out at mile after mile of desert scrub. This was a very different India to any I had seen. At 1pm I could see the fort of Jaiselmer away to my right on the hill. I was picked up by the hotel in an efficient way and the jeep sped up to the fort entrance. Jeeps are not allowed in the fort so the others and I had to don our packs at the main gate and follow the guide inside. It was all that we had been led to believe. Like a scene from the crusades, a fairytale golden sandstone fortress filled with narrow alleys and ornate houses built by wealthy camel traders hundreds of years ago.

There are many narrow streets in the fort and you have to remember to keep looking up, for overhanging these lanes are delicate carved balconies with engraved windows and arches, a testament to the wealth of this place in its prime. Jaiselmer was a prime trading station between the deserts of the west and the likes of Jaipur. It was a captive market and some did very well from it. Many of the descendents of those families still live inside the fort but now they sell accommodation and clothes rather than camels. All around the fort rooftop cafes and vantage points claim to be the best possible place to witness the sunset. In fact they are all good and it was very peaceful to sit with my Kingfisher beer and see the dark red and black sun fall peacefully behind the horizon.

One of the primary reasons people come to Jaiselmer is to take a camel safari into the Thar Dessert. I must admit I was reluctant to be just another tourist on the money train but once you are here the romance of this place captures you and it is difficult to resist the lure of the sand. This is not Lawrence of Arabia of course, the Thar is mostly scrub land and small cacti, but it goes as far as the eye can see in all directions. The next morning our organizer's jeep drove our party 40 km out of town and into the desert to meet up with the camel drivers. Our group comprised Americans, Germans, a Dutch man a Frenchman and yours truly. Our international brigade was quiet on the way out... None of us had ridden a camel before and we had all heard stories of spitting, biting and being generally unpleasant.

It was 30 minutes into the first trek when I realized my camel was not like other camels. Clue one, one of the camel boys holding firmly onto the reins of my beast when all the other tourists had control of their own reins. Clue two, ,my camel (called John apparently) foaming greatly at the mouth and snorting nostrils provocatively. Clue three only my camel making hooting noises every few yards. One of the drivers came along side me. "You're camel is very horny" he told me. "Can I take the reins?" I asked. "No" he replied "if he sees a wild female in the dessert he will fly off after her and try to get onto her and take no heed of you sir". Henceforth John and I ambled along with me trying to avoid him flinging frothy camel spit around and about my person.

Lunch was a simple but tasty affair of vegetables in spice with chapatti. After a rest beneath the trees we ventured on into the afternoon heat and farther from the roads. By 5pm we could see the rolling hills of sand in the distance, a natural occurrence of perhaps 2 square miles of dune seas, golden and textured by the wind. The camels sank to their knees and we were told that this was camp for the night. The group split off and made straight for the tops of the dune hills, each taking a front row seat for the gathering sunset. It took an hour or more but every one knew it was an event worth waiting for. Slowly the sun sank down onto the skyline and lit up the sands, glowing through the screen of pollution and dusk that allowed us to spectate.

We all sat there until it was gone and in the twilight we were content to have seen something special. The evening was spent around a camp fire, eating simple food again and singing a variety of songs from all parts of the world. Camel driver songs, the Beatles, the Eagles and many I had never heard before. The stars were bright in the sky and there was a wonderful peace that we had all missed in the last weeks of crazy Indian cities. At 9.30pm the drivers declared it was time to turn in and made up beds of blankets on the sand. I lay in mine fully clothed, body warm, face cold gazing up at the constellations... the belt of Orion, Scorpio, Leo, the Plough. They were so bright and uninterrupted by the polluting glows of city lamps. We all stared at them but after 20 minutes the camp fell silent save the occasional farting camel and I fell asleep on the hard sand until 7am. Indeed I was starting to be able to sleep anywhere.

Another day, another new form of transport. Today was the sleeper bus, a coach with seats across the bottom deck and 'sleeper' compartments above. 'Sleeper' however being a misnomer as there was not much sleeping to be achieved. Due to depart at 5.15pm from Jaiselmer the transit was delayed by the usual chaos and argument as it quickly became apparent that these buses over book both the seats and sleeper cubicles. I have no idea why they would think that someone would pay good money and then not turn up. This must be another 'Indian' issue I'm not privy to. Nevertheless, first we had the conductor who spoke no English gesticulating to the Argentinean woman to move. She refused. Then the young Korean woman kicked off when told she would have to move to a double bunk with an Indian man. She was having none of it. The couple opposite thought they had avoided the problems but no .. the conductor soon declared that he wanted 70R for their bags traveling in the boot. They refused. He insisted. They refused. The bus stopped the boot opened and all the bags were manhandled into the coach and into their double sleeper. Suffice to say there was not much room for the couple after that.

I tried to bed down in the small space with my bags but it was too short for my 5 foot 11 and the only way I could actually lie flat was diagonal in one position with my head almost hanging out of the hatch. Again I tried to bed down. Bang, thump, bounce, clatter. I persevered… horn, bounce, rut, swerve, huge divot in road resulting in whole body lifting entirely off the surface of the bus and being thrown back down like a sack of potatoes. The torture continued for 10 long hours into the night until we arrived at Ajmer at 3.45am. I resolved that sleeper buses although cheap and frequent were not for me… it would be relative comforts of the train from now on.

Pushkar is very close to Ajmer, a 20 minute bus ride over Snake Mountain to the spiritual town set round a mystical lake. This is pleasant place, a little oasis surrounded by mountains with a more laid back feel but still full of visitors. On two of the hills around the town lie temples and I walked to the top of one at midday which was admittedly the wrong time to do so. The views were superb though, both of the surrounding countryside and of Pushkar itself. This is a holy place, a place of pilgrimage for many but also a place with more stoned people than I had seen anywhere else in India. It has the feeling of a retreat and I spend three very relaxed days sitting in the hotel garden and wandering around with not very much to do. Recharging the body and mind is important here.

After three weeks you begin to settle into life on the road and there is no shortage of time to think about things. At this stage for me, it is still a mixture of excitement about every new place and new adventure but tinged with missing home and friends and some of the comforts of England. It will be interesting to see how beach life in Goa affects me further. All I can do is take one day at a time. Middle India has been a rollercoaster. It is a hard place to travel cheap in many respects, but has a charm and distinctiveness that I think can only fully be appreciated in hindsight. It will be interesting to see how I feel about India 9 months from now.



 Delhi ... I stayed in the Tibetan commune in a great budget hotel (Whogden House) at just a few pounds a night. It also has a great little restaurant that does Chinese Asia fusion foods. The down side is that is out of the center of Delhi and requires a little effort to get in and out of town. Many others stay in Pahaganj, the market near the railway station. Its noisy lively and full of people if you like that kind of thing. Beware you may struggle to sleep with barking dogs and car horns blaring. (buy earplugs). The best shopping is found in Connaught Place as are some of the best restaurants and bars.

 Don't expect to be able to walk into a bar and order a cold beer when the dust gets in your throat. I could not find such a place for 2 days. On the third I came across a restaurant / bar in Connaught Place but it was expensive, 220R for one bottle of Kingfisher. Nice treat though. If you want a drink of alcohol there are liquor stores in places like Chandi Chowk. Easiest to ask a rickshaw to take you to one.

 Go to the toilet before you leave your accommodation in the morning. You will struggle to find anywhere decent to go whilst out and about unless you hunt down one of the bigger hotels.

 Don't even think of getting into a rickshaw or taxi without agreeing the price first. If the driver just mumbles or claims not to understand English walk away, there will be 10 others behind him. Most auto rickshaw journeys across central Delhi should be not more than 30R. Don't get ripped off, be firm and fair.

 The arrivals hall at the airport has train reservation booth and several money changers. They are much less hassle than trying to do it in the city so I recommend you use them before you leave the airport. Generally I tried to book my ticket out of places as soon as I go into them, if I was only going to be there a day or two. Transport gets booked up in advance and if you don't you could get stranded.

 If you are like me you will become a rather dab hand at hand washing on a daily basis. Many accommodations have a bucket and jug in the bathroom. Many shops sell small sachets of wash powder for 2R each. When you have your shower, do a hand wash also. You can of course get your laundry sent out which is cheap in India. I mixed and matched both. Only trouble is it can 24 hrs to get the laundry back and you may not have that long. I stayed at Whogden House in the Tibetan District. Conclusion very good.

 Agra ... Ask to view the room before you check in. It's not rude, in fact it's expected. Look out for it being too close to roads as the night noise will be a real pain. Don't be convinced that the traffic stops at 10.30 it's not true! Ask for a room back from the road.

 Don't agree to be taken round the sights by one rickshaw driver, however good his price sounds or beguiling his smile. It's a way to get you into the shops you don't want to go in. Use separate auto or cycle rickshaws for each journey and be firm that you want to go direct to your destination.

 If you find yourself being followed down the road by a talkative rickshaw just cross over to the oncoming traffic side and they won't be able to cross with you. The local bus to Fatipur Sikri take 1 hour 15 and costs 22 bargain rupees each way.

 Invest in some malleable earplugs before traveling. I found them invaluable at night to keep the traffic horns at bay but also on buses, trains and buses to dull out the general uproar. It reduces stress.

 Don't travel relentlessly. There is a danger you will push yourself to see as much as possible day after day. You will soon exhaust yourself. This is supposed to be enjoyment so pace yourself and take half a day every few days just to chill out and sleep in.

 I traveled from Agra to Jaipur by coach. The ticket was under 300R and was sources by the hotel. The coach was basic but comfortable and we left from the bus station at 9.30am arriving in Jaipur 3.30pm.

 I stayed at Tourist Rest House. Conclusion good but let down by hard beds.

 Jaipur ... If you are planning to move on from somewhere like Jaipur by train, as I was, it's advisable to go to the reservations office soon after you arrive and book your onward ticket. The trains are very popular and book up quickly. Make sure your ticket is a confirmed seat and not 'waiting list'. I did this in Jaipur to seek an overnight sleeper to Jaiselmer the following night, leaving Jaipur at midnight. The sleepers were full leaving only a seat in class 2. There was no way I am sitting in a seat for the 15 hour journey so I went for the following night's train instead. I went for AC3 where you have a sleeping bunk.

 If a rickshaw claims to have trouble understanding the hotel name you are telling him it's a scam. They want to take you to another hotel. Just dump him like a hot brick walk 20 meters and ask another. You will soon find one that wants your custom.

 Getting an upset digestion is inevitable in India. It is not a case of eating bad food or eating off unhygienic surfaces. Your body will be used to a wholly different set of bacteria in the gut and when you come to India it will be bombarded by a whole new set it's never seen before. It's in the air, the dust, on door handles and on the money. You will get diarrhea. The trick is to minimize your contact with serious illness through precaution. A mild upset stomach is ok as your system will be adapting to the new regime. Don't take Imodium to stop it, go with it and let it settle after a few days. In the first week I stuck to simple food, that had been boiled where ever possible; dhal, rice, coffee/tea, soup. Keep your fingers away from your mouth, wash your hands regularly. Listen to your body. If it says no appetite, don't eat just drink water, lots of it.

 To travel by train is not as simple as buy a ticket and get on. You should go to the reservation office of the station at least a day before travel. Look for the ''foreigner'' queue. You will need a paper slip first which you fill out with the train number, destination, class of travel you want as well as your personal details. (Class tends to be 'seat', 'air conditioned class 2 sleeper' or same for class 3). Once you have completed the form its back to the queue and see if there is availability for what you want. If so you pay, receive ticket and off you go.

 A word about queuing in India. It's not really in the Indian nature to queue. At any single point of purchase you will find one person in the centre and one either side all trying to trust money into the teller's hand through the hatch. There will also be two others over their shoulders doing the same and all of them will be calling out questions and instructions for attention. Don't try to be polite and reserved, just join in or you will be there all day.

 Food in India is somewhat different to what we might think of as 'Indian food'. The Indian food we know is very westernized and adapted to appeal to our palate. Here the overwhelming majority of dishes are vegetarian both for financial and practical reasons. Meat is expensive and difficult to manage. The most common dishes will be Thali, a mix of a cooked vegetable, bread, dhal, yogurt, rice. Its cheap and tasty but I couldn't eat it all the time. The variety of food varies enormously as does the quality. Seek out recommendation, look for where the locals are eating and avoid street food. I stayed at the Pearl Palace. Conclusion excellent.

 Whenever you arrive in a new place you need to get orientated. When you first leave the hotel track you early movement to a main road and fix your sight on a sign or unusual object to lead you back from there. Look up in the skyline for buildings or towers that stand out and are near to where you need to be. Always take a leaflet of the hotel out with you so if like me you do get lost, you can get back in a tuk tuk or taxi.

 Jaiselmer ... It's worth buying your own blanket if you are traveling in December or January, perhaps even February. It gets cold quite a lot and you will probably consider it the best thing you bought in India.

 Beware, if you don't book the camel safari with the hotel you are staying in, you may get turned out on the street with no notice.

 Don't put clothes or possessions away in cupboards and draws. It's best to have everything out where you can see it and you will be less likely to lose things.

 Getting sick in India is almost inevitable. Being sick and having to travel is worse still. My approach was to try to manage the sickness. Don't feed it. Drink lots of water and only eat fruit. Listen to your body, if you have no appetite, don't eat. As you get nearer to catching the bus or train back off on the water and fast for a few hours. Once you arrive at your destination top up again on water and eat something if you wish. I stayed at the Ganesh Guest House. Conclusion very good.

 Pushkar ... If you find yourself in Ajmer in the middle of the night and the only way to Pushkar is auto rickshaw, pay no more than 300R for up to 3 people. They will try for 600 but be persistent

 Don't accept anything offered into your hand especially by the lake i.e. flower petals  If the locals tell you that you need to park you shoes with Mr Shoe before stepping onto the lake Ghats, just take them off and carry them.  Always give the stray dogs and cows in the streets a wide berth. They are generally passive but its best to steer clear.  I stayed at the Vidharan Palace. Conclusion good, let down by unhelpful staff and nighttime noise. Lovely quiet garden with pool, good food.  Don't put your clothes and possessions in draws. It is too easy to forget they are there and you will lose things. Keep everything out and in sight, I found it much easier to move on quickly.

 I took the bus from Ajmer (near Pushkar) back to Jaipur at 9.30am. It cost 69R and was comfortable and took 4 hours.

 Tomorrow I have another early start, the 5.05am train to Delhi and on Friday I make my way to the airport for the 11.35am flight to Goa.