And so, two days ahead of schedule as a result of the lack of appeal associated with camping here, we arrived at Varanasi - our last stop in India.

Varanasi adorns the bank of the Ganges, India's holy river, and there are few other reasons for visiting, beyond a couple of ok temples one of which contains a giant marble map of India (which is well worth seeing).

One redeeming feature was the hotel that we stayed in, which is one of the nicest we have used thus far, with an excellent and welcome pool. The weather has turned mercifully cooler, and we have had the first concerted rain here that we have seen.

Despite the weather the main attraction here is to take a boat trip on the Ganges; this is not your normal pleasure cruise, however. As I mentioned the Ganges is a holy river, and Indians treat it so along with using it for just about every purpose that a river can be used for. On an early morning boat trip along the banks of Varanasi you will be greeted with people washing, both themselves and their clothes, swimming, fishing, performing holy rituals and, most spectacularly burning and disposing of their dead. Funeral ghats, present in most cities, positively queue up along the banks of the Ganges and operate, it would seem, on a constant basis. It is a strange sight to look through the early morning haze and see a line of fires reaching into the distance each of which is probably an individual funeral. Sadly the burning is not always as comprehensive as perhaps it should be, depending on the amount of wood than can be afforded by the individual's family, and as a result it is not uncommon to see the remains of half cremated bodies adorning the shores of the sand-bar on the opposite side of the river or floating past your boat. The corpses of other creatures along with the normal flotsam of human existence are not an uncommon sight either.

All combined the activities that take place on the banks of this river (including and probably predominantly because of those of an industrial nature) are contributing to making it a form of polluted soup. How people swim in these waters and stay healthy is beyond me, but they do. I can only assume that the immune systems of Indians in this region are Olympian in stature. Having said that there are allegedly dolphins living in the Ganges which must say something of the water quality... You can draw your own conclusions.

I can rough it with the best of them when everyone around me is doing the same, but being dirty and smelly in the presence of others who are not is something I find difficult to cope with. As a consequence, 5 weeks into India, the prospect of four nights of rough camps was not something I was particularly looking forward to. It is just too darned hot and humid and sleeping in pools of your own sweat is something I would challenge anyone to enjoy. The prospect was even less appealing given that we had visits to make along the way.

Nevertheless, the journey from Agra to Varanasi is a long one and we had little choice, and the two stops along the way were definitely worth the effort. These stops were at Orchha and Khajuraho.

Orchha is a palace and temple complex that dates from the Mughal period. A huge palace constructed for the Maharaja, his wife (who eventually moved out to a house in the town ostensibly for religious reasons) and his six concubines (no-doubt the real reason for his wife's departure). As with many of the palaces from this time, it is constructed in a quad with apartments for the man himself surrounded by rooms for his various women close by. Each of the lady's rooms has a (not-so)-secret passage leading to the Maharaja's rooms allowing him to visit the woman of his choice without incurring the wrath of the others. I am sure everyone will draw their own conclusions from that particular architectural practice, so I will refrain from further comment :) The palace itself is quite beautiful but despite only minor use since its construction it is still a little run-down. Reconstructions were in progress.

Surrounding the palace are various temples, most of which are constructed in a similar style, one that is now quite familiar to us, and which combined made a stunning counterpoint to a spectacular sunset.

This was by far the hottest day we have had so far, topping out, we believe, at a less than comfortable 48 degrees C.

Keen to make as much progress as possible to minimise the number of rough camps before Varanasi we hit the road early en-route for Khajuraho, and made if before lunch. Khajuraho is another large temple complex, this time dating from around 950-1000 AD (before the Mughal empire), and noted for the exquisite carvings that adorn all of the temples depicting all aspects of the lifestyle and gods of the time. Notable, and lets be honest the reason that these temples receive quite such detailed scrutiny, are the erotic carvings that are incorporated into the many of the scenes. The Hindus of this time were clearly not shy or unadventurous when it came to sex, and searching the many carvings for the occasional erotic one is sure to provide an education to all but the most imaginative. Depicted are practices some of which I could not begin to imagine even in my most depraved moments, including men with horses, women with dogs and orgies incorporating positions that would take, as far as I can see, some intensive yogic training to achieve. Despite their graphic nature these carvings are not easy to spot (although the attendants in each temple are more than happy to point every explicit detail out to you) and all-in-all I spent an educational 2 hours perusing.

Surrounding the temples are a number of very missable, very tacky shops which stock, among other things, models of some of the carvings and various incarnations of the Karma Sutra (of course).

Next stop Agra. Agra is famous for little more than the Taj Mahal, but that is enough. Similarly, there is not a lot to see in the Taj complex other than some beautiful gardens and the building itself, but that is also enough.

We made an early start with the dual purpose of seeing the monument lit by the early sunrise and beating the hoards. The Taj Mahal is reputedly the most beautiful building ever created. That is quite a boast, but sitting on the steps at the entrance to the monument watching the play of light on the white marble as the sun takes its first tentative steps into the morning sky, it is easy to see how that boast came about. We have been very lucky on this trip to see in their physical form some of the most iconic images the world of men has to offer. This is one of them and its beauty, simplicity and the sentiment for which it exists defies description. If you come to India visit the Taj Mahal.

A little less popular but no less rewarding than visiting the main complex or the Taj is a journey around to its rear side. Here, if you are lucky you see a sunset view of the monument reflected in the river that passes close by its back wall. The idea was nice, and the monument was no less sunning from this aspect, but when you get close to the river you soon realise than it is little more than an open sewer and picking your way down to the edge of the water to appreciate the view is akin to traversing a mine-field. As if to underline this on my arrival at the water's edge I was greeted by the sight of a guy in full squat adding his personal mark to the general ambiance of the area. Nice! In the end I was unlucky. Although the view was impressive, the sunset was mediocre and it was too windy to get a decent reflection. However, just to view the monument without the crowds made the trip worth it - just don't look down.

Perhaps because of the Taj Mahal, Agra has developed an industry for luxury Marble. It is possible to buy just about anything here that can be created from in this medium. Along with a plethora Taj replicas, some of which are quite beautiful if perhaps a little tacky, many exquisite examples of ornaments, inlaid table tops, jewelry boxes and chess sets can be obtained here. I had intended to buy myself a marble chess set, but asking the price of these items is not a task for the faint of heart. Considering that these artifacts are painstakingly carved and etched by hand and can take many months to create, the prices are understandable. There is no doubt that they are luxury commodities even by western standards, however. On discovering that said chess set was going to cost me close to 200 pounds, I politely declined. Maybe one day when I am rich and famous I will return, but certainly not before.

Leaving Jaipur we headed for Ranthambore national park. This is a nature reserve and is known primarily for its population of tigers and leopards - although there are many other species present that are worth seeing if you get lucky. There are two options available for traversing the park: you can sign up for a canter, which is basically a ruggedised MPV that storms around the park with a load of around 25 people crammed into the small space like certain proverbial fish, or you can take the more expensive option of a jeep which holds no more than 5 people. The main advantage of a jeep is that with fewer people it is quieter, easier to see over/past other people (so better for photography) and you have a little more say over where you go and what you see. The vehicles are supposed to stick to specific routes around the park to minimise the impact on the animals, but in practice this is poorly policed so once though the gates and away from prying eyes the drivers basically go wherever the hell they want. Because all the vehicles are in radio contact (although it could have been ESP as far as I could tell - I never actually saw our driver use a radio) this means that if one group spots something of note very soon it is party-time safari style. Possibly not so good for the animals (although that is debatable), but given the cost of hiring a jeep and the likelihood of more than one route encountering a big cat in any one 3hr safari, better for tourism. And the drivers know they get better tips if their passengers see big cats.

We took three safaris in all - all in jeeps (although we were lucky to get them three times). In the first two safaris, despite seeing a range of interesting creatures including: several species of large deer, monkeys, several wild boar, a couple of jackals, a 2ft monitor lizard, a black tailed mongoose, many many peacocks and a host of other interesting bird species, such is the draw of seeing big cats that we somehow quite bizarrely considered these safaris to be unsuccessful.

Ranthambore is approximately 360 square miles of wilderness. Within that space there are no more than 25 tigers at current estimates which means, with only a few roads traversable by jeep, they have lots of places to hide. On top of this evolution has done a pretty fine job of making them hard to spot even when ostensibly in plain view. It is therefore lucky indeed to see one. Nick, our driver, has been to the park 6 times and on multiple safaris each of those times, and seen a tiger on one occasion only and then from a distance. Leopards, if it is possible, are more elusive still. If I were a religious man (which I am not) it would be easy indeed to consider that divine intervention was occupying the spare seat in our jeep on our third safari. For within 2 hours we had seen 2 leopards (we think a mother and a large cub), courtesy of a monkey issuing an alarm call in the vicinity, along with a female tiger who strolled nonchalantly within 15 feet of our open topped, no-sided jeep.

There are occasional moments in my life when a small overtly practical voice at the back of my head screams violently at me WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING??? Standing, more or less unprotected, 15 feet from a 9ft long wild female tiger was one of those moments. There is no doubt that being looked straight in the eye up-close and personal by a tiger without the benefit of bars to protect your puny physicality is an intense experience. While my conscious mind was fully engaged in appreciating the uncompromising beauty of the force of nature that was passing in front of our jeep that small part of my mind was conscientiously pressing every panic button available to it.

I have no photographs of that experience. I don't need them. It is something I will never forget.

Jaipur was the next stop and we were fortunate here to be able to stay on farm belonging to a long-standing acquaintance of Exodus. As well as providing us with a very nice and welcome dinner, we were also treated to a very interesting talk on the Indian caste system, the lot of women in India and related subjects.

It is good to be able to ask frank and open questions about the culture and religions of a nation and to receive equally frank and open answers - especially when those answers are from someone who lives within that culture. It came, for example, as something of a surprise to learn that, whilst now being illegal, the caste system is still very much in operation here and still governs much of the social interactions that take place particularly with regard to marriage. Once born to a caste you are stuck with it. There is no way to change caste without dying and being reborn to a different one - higher if you lead a good life and lower if you do not. It therefore remains possible to become rich and still be a member of a low caste. An extreme example of this is that there is apparently at least one Bollywood actress who is an 'untouchable'. Rich, famous, no doubt beautiful (most are at the very least stunning) and yet 'untouchable'. The logic is a strange one to be sure.

It came as a larger surprise still to learn that up to 96% of marriages in India are still arranged and the practice of requiring dowries for female children is still very much active. It is still also the case that female babies are occasionally killed in favor of male babies - due it would seem to the need to supply a dowry. As a result only around 45% of children are female. Once widowed or divorced a woman is very unlikely to be able to remarry and will probably be looked after by her family. There is a certain level of shame associated with this status. A man in a similar situation will be remarried typically within a year. Perhaps the largest surprise of all is that Indians view foreigners as the lowest caste - on a par with untouchables. It would be very rare indeed, therefore, for a westerner to be able to marry an Indian woman. From what I am given to understand these attitudes are less common in the major cities, where western attitudes have penetrated a little, but in rural and smaller town communities they are the norm.

The following day we were treated to a tour of some of Jaipur's sights including the Amber palace - which sits atop hill overlooking the town. Aside from being a stunning example of Mughal architecture this palace (which is anything but Amber - the name comes from something to do with the heritage of the people who built it) provides the first opportunity to ride an elephant (which we declined) and affords excellent views across the whole of Jaipur. Jaipur is unusual in the cities that we have visited (Mcleod Ganj excepted) in that there is more than one hill within visual range of the city. As usual when there is some topography present this made for some excellent views. There are a few other forts and palaces present that are worth a look (one fort apparently houses the largest cannon ever made) and a must-see stop if you have even a remote interest in Astronomy/Astrology is the astounding observatory that houses all manner of giant sized instruments including a 100ft (at least) sun-dial that will measure time to an accuracy of 2 seconds. Aside from that Jaipur is notable for its jewelry shops with some stunning examples of all kinds of jewelry that retail at around half to a third of the price of an equivalent item in the UK. So if you were planning a large purchase it would be worth the plane ticket. In the end it was a very pleasant place to stay - despite the on-going heat.

Well leaving Mcleod Ganj we headed back out of the mountains and towards Delhi. I was not particularly looking forward to this. In fact I have, perhaps a little unfairly considering I have never been there, been referring to India's capital as 'Smelly' for most of the trip. I am not, as I may have mentioned, much of a city person and I would have happily left this one off the itinerary. I imagined Delhi to be one of the largest, smelliest and most unpleasant cities I was likely to visit.

As it turned out Delhi was, in fact, one of the largest, smelliest and most unpleasant cities I have visited. So no real surprise on that front, but it was not without redeeming features. Firstly we had a nice hotel and a small slice of luxury is not to be sneezed at. We also spent quite a pleasant day, despite the heat, finding our way around the very new and swish metro system - which was a pleasure to use in itself if only because it didn't involve risking life and limb on the rickshaws - and visited the great mosque and the Red Fort, ate some nice food and generally soaked up the atmosphere. As our esteemed driver said - Delhi grows on you.

Photo time again..

..On to Dharamsala. Or to be precise Mcleod Ganj. Dharamsala, well known as the home of the Dali Lama, is in fact not the home of the Dali Lama at all. What it is is a small and unremarkable town in the Indian Himalayas that is notable for not much more than being the end of a train line en-route to Mcleod Ganj - which is the much vaulted home of the Dali Lama. Needless to say we didn't stop there.

Mcleod Ganj, 4km up the road (on foot) from Dharamsala is also a small and unremarkable town in the Indian Himalayas. Once a British hill station (as far as I can remember) it perches precariously about 1700m up in a natural bowl on the sides of some spectacularly beautiful mountains. Aside from being a convenient respite from the heat of the Indian summer, and the staging post for some fairly decent treks it would probably not have made the tourist route at all if it had not been for the arrival of the DL. This event, however, has placed it firmly on the map and turned it into something of a cultural curio. Whilst being the home of many Indians it is as much a taste of Tibet as India and, as we found out, it is also home to perhaps the largest freak-show on earth.

Lets cut to the chase; this is hippy central. There are more dope smoking, dreadlock-headed, crystal gazing public-school saddhu wannabe's here than you could find at the average Levellers concert. I speak from experience; I have been to a Levellers concert. I assume the fact that this is the world capital of the Buddhist faith has turned it into a pilgrimage centre for the peace-police, all presumably frantically searching for themselves. Of course this could also be attributed to the astonishing amount of freely available dope..

Before arriving in India I read this book (which I highly recommend):

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0140283587/sr=1-1/qid=1150962117/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-8030041-9035131?%5Fencoding=UTF8&s=books

I assumed this to be a comedic look at western travelers. What I did not realise was it was a factual expose on the Indian sub-continent. The author, it would seem, has been to Mcleod Ganj.

Despite how that may sound, I don't really have anything against these people. Hell if they want to travel half way around the world to a country that positively throbs with culture in order to smoke themselves into oblivion then fine by me. The queue for the Taj Mahal will be a couple of people shorter. But I do think it is a sad reflection in Western society that this is also the least friendly place I have visited in India and as far as I can see that is a direct result of the high proportion of western travelers here. In a cafe in Delhi (quick trip into the future) I nodded and smiled to a clearly British couple as they entered and was curtly ignored. This could be because a. they had just got off a plane and had not yet absorbed the Indian chill vibe or b. because I was sitting next to Stu who now has purple and orange hair, and so in my more altruistic moments I could perhaps excuse them. Either way, after three months traveling in the Middle East and India I have become accustomed to strangers nodding and smiling a greeting when they catch my eye. To be snubbed in this way was an uncomfortable and unpleasant reminder of home. Sadly Mcleod Ganj, despite the fact that it should be one of the most warm and friendly placed ON EARTH, positively vibrates with this same undercurrent of indifference and hostility.

This would be easier to accept if these people were not all (ok I'm generalising) preaching peace and love and on a mission to set right the ills of the world. Credence I think to the theory that, despite the mantra, actually all they want to do is get high. They sure as hell ain't living the dream.

Aside from this minor injection of reality our visit to Mcleod Ganj was a good one. A day spent looking around the town, visiting the DL (in his absence, he is presumed to be off somewhere further cultivating anti-Chinese feeling) trying and failing to visit the Tibetan museum, eating, drinking, making merry and generally appreciating the show. This followed by a stonking day trekking up 1200m to Triund, a small saddle between two peaks which affords stunning views of the surrounding mountains.

In the end, perhaps because of its isolation and perhaps because it is a meeting point of some fairly strange cultures this place is a departure from what I would consider to be the 'real India'. Love it or hate it though, don't miss it.

Amritsar is perhaps a shining example of an Indian city. It is hellishly busy, a little dirty, a little smelly and a lot polluted. Venturing out by rickshaw, as we have come to expect, is a life and death experience and so as (as far as I could see) there is little here to do other than visit the golden temple it is a great place to simply enjoy the comfort of your hotel. And as we had such a nice hotel it seemed almost rude not to do just that.

I did intend to venture out once more with the intention of getting some sunset photos of the temple. So at the appropriate time, after the main heat of the day, I loaded up my cameras and a book, kissed my arse goodbye (again) just in case, and hailed a rickshaw. This was without a doubt the most knackered auto-rickshaw in India and as we progressed at a stately 5kph towards the golden temple being overtaken by cyclists and pedestrians as we went, I started to doubt the wisdom of this decision. However, I could not have been more wrong because, whilst we progressed at a speed that would be considfered slow even when compared to continental drift, it turned out that my driver was the only one in the whole of India to have bothered to read the highway code and he got me to my destination almost unscathed.

Wandering into the temple it was my intention to spend a quiet few hours reading and taking photos. I should have known better :). Within no more than a few moments of finding my seat I was surrounded by a crowd of people all keen to chat and have their photo's taken. And so I spent a happy few hours chatting to sikhs and hindus from all over who had journeyed to the temple some on pilgrimage and some simply sight-seeing, but all keen to chat to and have their photo taken by the strange white guy in the corner. Turned out to be an immensely enjoyable afternoon and goes some way to explaining how I ended up with lots of photos of Indians standing in front of the golden temple :)

Amritsar is a centre for the sikh religion, and on a normal evening it is not unusual to see a great many sikhs in attendance at the golden temple. Surprisingly, and quite unlike the muslim and probably the Xtian religions, Sikhs are welcoming of non-sikhs at any time including when they are engaged in worship themselves. So it was that we witnessed the rituals that take place on a nightly basis here.

To enter the temple you must wear long trousers, have your head covered and be bare-foot (washing the feet and hands before entry is also considered good form). What greeted us on entering, as we did, in the evening was perhaps one of the more impressive sights we have seen so far on this trip. The golden temple is a beautiful structure set in the middle of a lake surrounded by a white marble quad and with a single bridge allowing you to cross to the temple itself. Lit up in the evening it is a majestic sight. Form dictates that having entered you progress in a clockwise direction around the quad (allowing you to view the temple from all angles) before crossing the bridge to the temple proper. Once past the queues and inside you are free to roam at will around the temple and as such we spent a happy hour or so sitting on the roof simply chilling, chatting to folks and watching the world go by. A very pleasant way to kill an hour in quite stunning surroundings.

At around 9:30 they boot everyone out for the closing ceremony. This involves carrying the book of sikh back across the bridge from the temple to its nightly resting place. This is far from a solemn occasion, however, as everyone is expected to pitch in as the book is passed on its golden covered carrier from hand to hand between a raft of eager sikhs (and anyone else who gets caught up in the crowd). Once again you are struck by the openness and friendliness of the people here as you sit on the edge of the lake and watch this spectacle take place with Sikhs wandering steadily by smiling and nodding as they go.

The drive from Bikaner to Amritsar is a long one and so there is a bush-camp scheduled on route. Aside from that the spot we picked was quite pleasant, this bush camp was much like any others: Kinda hot with a bedtime sand-storm just to keep you on your toes. As usual, we provided the local village with an evening of entertainment and in this case around a 150 people were sitting not-so-quietly by watching our every move as we went about the business of cooking and preparing for the night.

I have become used to being scrutinised whilst bush camping, and so aside from the unusually large number of people present in this case, there was little that was remarkable about this experience. After breakfast, however (which the village had turned out to watch also), we were all invited back for tea. So we went.

Here normality went on vacation again for a short time. As we were led around the village more and more people drifted into our wake until our small group of nine was being flanked by anything up to 1000 Indians all keen to get a look at us.

There is no doubt that to suddenly blunder unwittingly into the world of celebrity - for that is how it felt - was a surreal experience. It was also quite humbling, as we were all ushered into the head man's one room house and offered tea and biscuits and allowed to watch BBC news 24 on his TV, to appreciate the hospitality and lack of suspicion or malice in these people. Where in the western world would you encounter such?

After leaving the rat-temple it was off to another bush-camp. Having left the flat arable lands that dominate the landscape further to the south and moved into the desert there was a faint hope that camping would be easier. A hope that was dashed forthwith with the arrival of yet another sand-storm and its accompanying sound-and-light show. So having once again abandoned my mosquito net to the elements and dived for the tent, yet another more-or-less sleepless night passed in an otherwise uneventful fashion.

The next day was a passing visit to Bikaner, where I needed to shop (my turn to do the group cooking) and Thai-chicken-curry was on the menu. Of course that means buying chicken which, in turn, means venturing into bird-flu land. After a prolonged sojourn around Bikaner Bazaar we located said bird and watched as it was hauled kicking and screaming (well ok clucking) from its cage and summarily beheaded, plucked, gutted and handed to us in a carrier bag whilst we sat by and drank Masala tea (which is very nice by the way). Proof once again, if we needed it, that this ain't Tesco. I willingly hold up my hand up and admit that I didn't do this deed myself and, as someone from the shrink-wrapped generation, this was not an altogether palatable experience. I am coming to think however that, if you are going to eat meat, there is something important about knowing what it really means to be a carnivor. Food for thought.

Our other reason for visiting Bikaner was the fort. This is another dominatingly impressive building that, to be honest, in the heat and after the lack of sleep and having just sentenced a chicken to death I couldn't be bothered with. Impressive though it undoubtedly was it was too big to trawl round in the time we had left and so it was back in the truck once again and off to our next bush camp somewhere between there and Amritsar.

Experiencing new levels bizarreness that the human animal is capable of inventing is one of the reasons for doing a trip like this and the 'rat-temple', which sits 30km to the south of Bikaner, definitely qualifies. For this reason, in a macabre kind of way, I was looking forward to this visit.

And so we went.

It would, I guess, have been optimistic to assume that a rat-temple was ever going to be pleasant, and there was little to disappoint on that score. There are, apparently, in the region of twenty thousand rats in this temple, which is a lot even if you say it quickly. I was, therefore, somewhat relieved to discover that most of them were on vacation or taking a siesta or some such and that only the emergency crew had been fielded for my visit. The relatively small number (500 or so) that were in evidence was quite enough, thanks all the same, especially given the revelation that you have to enter bare-foot. Lump in my throat? Hell yeah!

Yes I know that rats are clean and intelligent creatures who are loving parents and make great pets, but at the end of the day they are still, well, rats, and, lets clear something up here: these ain't the cute white ones with the pink eyes.

The temple itself is a reasonably grand building that, as with so many in India, now has a slightly shabby feel to it. My first thought was 'well who would want to do the maintenance on a building filled with 20 thousand rats' but when you get inside you soon realise that finding volunteers wouldn't be a problem. These rats are revered and it is considered lucky if one runs across your foot! As a consequence it is not uncommon to find people lounging around on the floor, asleep in corners and generally treating the place like the local park. I am sure it would not be considered inappropriate to hold the family picnic here assuming you brought something for the rats (incidentally, as an aside, a rat has just run past my foot in this internet-cafe, BLEEEEEE! Actually, my mistake, it was a mongoose; lets hope it wasn't following a cobra). Proof, if nothing else that you can get used to anything.

However, for my somewhat less stout western constitution the rat temple, whilst an experience I would not have missed, is not one I will look back upon with anything akin to the warm haze of youthful summers. Lets be honest here, this place is dirty, smelly and filled with scraggy black rats and my first impulse upon leaving was to wash my feet. Yuk! Yuk! Yuk!

Oh and to the guy who thought it was bloody hilarious to squeak and run your finger up the back of my leg. The laundry bill is in the post!

Three days in Udaipur with the luxury of a hotel room, a shower and access to a very nice swimming pool was very pleasant, and it was a real shame to leave. Although the strain on my wallet was starting to show. Whilst I am sure it is possible to live cheaply in India, I am starting to believe this involves sitting around smoking pot a lot, cos as soon as you start going places and doing things the expenses rack up pretty quickly and if the Indians are good at nothing else they excel at inventing ways of parting you from your cash (who can blame them). I was astonished to find that in my first two weeks I have spent over 400 dollars. This, not surprisingly, has blown my budget to smithereens and, rather more surprisingly, has made these two weeks the most expensive of the trip so far. Time to reign it in a little, methinks.

Anyhow, after leaving Udaipur we set off for Jaisalmer calling in at Jodhpur for a whistle-stop visit on the way. Jodhpur is notable for a couple of things, the first and foremost of which is giving the world silly trousers. Beyond that, and perhaps more importantly,there is the quite unbelievable fort that sits atop a hill overlooking the town. This was the main reason for our stop here and we spent a couple of hours following absolutely the best audio tour I have ever had anywhere around this quite amazing building. Words fail me - go see for yourself. From the fort you get a magnificent view over the town and can appreciate the third note-worthy reason for visiting Jodhpur - it's blue, or at least predominantly so. Many of the buildings in the town have been painted with an indigo wash (apparently because it repels insects) that, from a distance, gives the town a very appealing blue colour. Quite a sight.

Leaving Jodhpur we headed for Jaisalmer. Camping once again in the grounds of a hotel, in this case another quite amazing building that was once one of the maharaja's palaces, we were gifted with a panoramic view of the main attraction of Jaisalmer: the old city. This is a medieval town set atop a hill that once again sports a most impressive fort as its centre-piece. Jaisalmer is the epitome of a medieval town sporting a most impressive outer city wall that rises to over 40ft in places and hides a warren of narrow maze-like streets and a multitude of all kinds of bazaars, eateries, drinkeries, people, dogs, cats, cows, rickshaws and open sewers. We were treated to a very informative city tour here by a guy called Daniel who was a veritable mine of information about the town, the temples and the fort. Most impressive. To cap it all we were treated to a visit (look only - as long as you can fend off the hard sell) to his brother's textile shop where we were plied with drinks and given a show of very fine Indian craft. There is no doubt that these crafts are impressive and you can buy here for relatively little products that you would pay a fortune for in the likes of Monsoon in the UK. Unfortunately for Daniel, however, we came to him after 10 weeks in the middle east and have been somewhat hardened to this selling technique. Thus parting us from our cash in this way is somewhat harder than I suspect is so with the average tourist. Better luck next time...

Our visit to Jaisalmer was to finish with an over-night camel safari into the desert. I have been looking forward to this for some time, and it was quite an experience. I was surprised to find that riding camels, whilst definitely less comfortable than horses, is also not as uncomfortable as it is reputed to be and the two hour ride into some amazing desert landscape was extremely enjoyable. This was topped off by a very pleasant evening drinking beer, eating rather good food and dodging yet more saucer-sized spiders at Daniel's (who apparently has fingers in just about every pie there is) desert retreat. After some wrangling over the specific details of the accommodation and the onset of yet another sand storm we retired to the mud huts for yet another very sweaty night of little sleep. The following morning, after a really quite nasty night, I refrained from taking the return camel journey opting instead for the shower/truck option. Then in short order it was adios to Jaisalmer and off to Bikaner and the Rat Temple. Yay!

Along the way and despite the discomforts of those first three nights bush camping we managed to take in some sights. Ellora and Ajanta caves are a must see, although expect to have the skin flayed from your flesh by the sun whilst there. These are a very impressive collection of Buddhist, Hindu and Jain temples quarried out of solid rock in the manner of Petra. Perhaps not quite as impressive as Petra, but still well worth a look, especially the main temple at Ellora which really is quite spectacular.

Nevertheless, the camping took its toll and arrival at Udaipur, a campsite (of sorts) and the possibility of a shower was a massive relief. To top it there was also the possibility of use of a swimming pool for the first time on the trip; a real taste of luxury.

Udaipur (as far as I could tell) is mainly known for the Lake Palace. A beautiful white Palace (now a hotel) which sits out in one of the lakes that surround the city and recently had its fame revitalised by its use in the closing scene of Octopussy. As a result, like Indiana Jones in Petra, Ocopussy naturally forms something of a theme around Udaipur and nightly showings of arguably the worst James Bond film EVER produced can be found at many locations around the city. Somehow I managed to restrain myself.

Another feature of the James Bond mania is that the rickshaw drivers all seem to fancy themselves as the main man and traveling around the narrow streets of the city thus is something of a life and death experience (maybe in retrospect this is not restricted to Udaipur). Our own group managed to hire three such rickshaw 007 wannabes and screaming around the labyrinth of streets in a convoy of three wheeled tin-cans couldn't help but put me in mind of a marginally less cool version of the Italian Job. A mini adventure indeed. If only Michael had chosen Reliant Robins!

We spent a very pleasant two and a half days in Udaipur. There is a lot to see including many temples and palaces, the City Palace is a must-see experience as is the Monsoon Palace that sits high on top of a nearby mountain. There is also the opportunity for some great food in very nice and well appointed restaurants and the opportunity to watch some traditional dance displays. In our case this turned out to be fat women stomping around with pots on their heads, but the idea was nice.

The next night we stopped in a forest area and I reverted back to a tent. Being a forest the volume of creatures eager to partake of a portion of my blood increased many-fold and so the tent seemed like a good idea. Once again, however, the heat and humidity combined with the tent raised fluid loss to an astonishing level and put paid to a good nights sleep.

And that pretty much set the scene for camping in India. It is too hot to sleep in a tent, and the weather is too 'changeable' to do anything else. Having had a replacement mosquito net designed to my own specification in Udaipur (which basically involved the addition of a ground-sheet and a zip - providing a completely self enclosed version of the Life-systems one I bought in the UK) I gave the mosquito net one last try on what seemed like a suitable evening, but once again, having just got settled the wind picked up, the lightning started and shortly afterwards and we were gifted with a rather impressive sand-storm (the second on the trip so far). This time, having had the foresight to pitch an emergency tent, I once again abandoned my mosquito net to the elements and dived for cover, but not before having myself and everything I had with me completely plastered in dust and sand. An interesting experience for sure, I reflected whilst laying uncovered on the private beach that was once my thermorest listening as sand was replaced by rain that proceeded to work its way through the side of my tent, but one that I would happily neglect to repeat.

...The next evening started well: a pleasant evening outlined by pastel skies. So following my no-tent mantra I decided to rig my mosquito net. This is the first time I have used this particular piece of equipment and I am now firmly convinced that the person who designed it was also responsible for bringing the world the krypton Factor. Rigging this thing, which is basically a box shaped piece of netting, so that a. there is enough space inside it for you to sleep without touching the sides and b. so that it can be pinned to the ground with rocks all the way around the edge (as there is no designed in way of fixing it) is no easy task. This is compounded by the lack of any obvious way of supporting the net other than the supplied piece of string and nail. Not an obvious choice of equipment at any time, but especially so when in open desert. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it...

Having spent an hour or so solving that particular problem and placing all I needed inside the net, I decided to retire for the night. Despite the hassles I was immediately glad of the net when a saucer sized spider walked across the top of it, but I was also quick to note its limitations as scores of ants, for whom the net seemed to cause only a minor inconvenience, decided to join me in my sleeping sheet and help themselves to generous portions of my flesh. And then the sound and light show began.

The idea of not using a tent, whilst well conceived - it is nice (as we discovered in the western desert) to sleep under the stars - failed to consider the monsoon. The monsoon has not officially started here yet but we are on the cusp of it and that means the weather is 'changeable'. In practice that means it is hot and humid as hell all through the day and stormy at night. There is nothing quite like a thunder storm to make you feel insignificant and the choreographers for this one excelled themselves. A mosquito net, whilst an effective defense against saucer sized spiders affords little protection against the elements and it quickly became clear that my little ship was sinking fast. So before I found myself pursuing my Heath-Robinson shelter across the Indian subcontinent wearing just my underpants I decided it was time to cut my losses. Another night in the truck beckoned.

...last lot for now.

...and some more...

...and a few more...

Time for some more photos methinks...

After leaving Mumbai the humidity diminished noticeably, but the heat increased. Whilst on the truck it is not so bad, the artificial wind aids evaporation, but as soon as the truck stopped the heat hits you like a hammer blow and water repellance resumes with a vengeance. Ahead of us were three nights rough camping.

Our first stop was at the second largest vineyard in India just outside Mumbai. Here we were given a tour, an explanation of how the wine is made and an insight into the Indian Wine industry - very interesting. I guess I have never really encountered Indian wine which is not all that surprising for whilst they do export they are concentrating more on the rather more lucrative home market. After the tour we retired to the balcony for a relaxing afternoon and some quality tasting time. I have to be honest and say that my expectations were low, but I could not have been more pleasantly surprised. The wine was pretty darned good, and I walked away with three very nice bottles, which I must remember to drink before more people join the trip. Way too good to share :)

An afternoon gazing out over the vineyard and surrounding country was a pretty nice way to spend our first day on the road in India and our first rough camp promised to be pretty nice too. We camped just below the vineyard near a dam, and there had our first experience of the curiosity of local Indians. At every camp so far we have unwittingly provided the evening's entertainment with between 10 and 40 locals turning out to quite literally stare at us more or less until it is too dark to see. It is quite disconcerting at first to have the entire population of a local village turn out to observe your every move. We came to be spectators but are definitely, at least in part, the spectacle.

Unfortunately camping in the hot humid weather is not such a pleasant experience. It is way too hot and humid to pitch a tent - especially the hot cotton and canvas tents we have been provided with - and on that first night I lost (I am sure :) at least a third of my body fluid and got no more than three hours sleep. I resolved from that point on not to use the tent.

Oh that it were that simple...

We are coming up on two weeks in India now, and it is hot hot hot. It would be unfair to say that we weren't warned, but y'know, you never really think it will happen to you do you.

Well it did.

I have spent the last two weeks having my brains fried under a not-so-slow heat. To top that I think I may have actually become water repellent. Water is leaving me like fleas of a drowning dog and I am consuming mineral water at a rate of up to 7ltrs a day. I am told I will acclimatize but, unless 'acclimatization' involves simply getting used to being hot and wet, I remain skeptical.

And yet for all of the discomfort, India is still a pretty cool place. Arriving in Mumbai after a mercifully uneventful flight was like parachuting into a scene from Jurmanji. Outside the obvious tourist district, Mumbai is packed with astonishingly impressive architecture left over from the days of the Raj, all of which now have a slight air of post-holocaust decay about them. The drive in from the airport underscores this. As you drive through the ramshackle run down suburbs and the no-holds-barred traffic, breathing smog and suffering in the intense and sudden heat, black kites wheel above you like bad omens and tropical plants rear up out of the urban decay with a vitality that seems uncharacteristic. The whole provides an air of the jungle slowly reclaiming its own.

Mumbai is a good introduction to India, and a couple of days spent there provides some spectacular sites and some good nights out. After Iran it was nice to see Europeans as more than a rarity once again and the throbbing backpacker vibe, whilst odd after so long in the middle east, was a welcome taste of the familiar. But the humidity slowly wears you down and after 2 days I was ready to leave. Once again on the way out of town, this time in the truck that will be our home for the next 18 weeks, we watched as the black kites made slow circles over the packed human chaos of Mumbai.

India here we come...