Saturday 15 February

Delhi

Our last full day in Delhi – I’m feeling much better this morning, although Matthew is still coughing quite a bit and looking a bit drawn. We stocked up on cold and flu medication first thing and then strolled over to Lodhi Garden – it’s only a few hundred metres from our hotel and just beyond Kahn Market, so a shame to not see it. Lodhi Gardens contains fifteenth century tombs and remains of other structures that combine Hindu and Islamic architectural styles in a parkland setting. 

We both needed a trim and my beard was getting quite shaggy and grey … so we stopped off at a barber’s – was funny being sat next to each other. My barber asked if I would like a face massage, too – being British, of course I said no … but being Indian, he did it anyway!

Then we took the metro to see the Red Fort (Lal Qila) a Mughal fort constructed from 1639 – it was plundered in 1739 and then most of the marble structures were demolished by the British after the 1857 Indian rebellion. The Lahore gate of the fort was where the first prime minister of India, Jawaharlal Nehru, raised the flag of India on 15 August 1947 – India’s Independence Day. This ceremony that’s repeated every year by the prime minister on that day. 

Matthew was due back at the tailor’s for his jacket fitting.

I didn’t need to at the tailor for that, so I decided to stay on the metro to Kalkaji Madir to have a look at the Bahá’í Lotus House of Worship – a very notable. modern design built in 1986 that won lots of architectural awards. The Bahá’í faith is open to everyone, teaches unity of all people  and is based on the idea that all faith is a different interpretation of one god. The Lotus Temple is 72 metres / 240 ft wide and just over 34 metres / 115 ft high and is made of 27 free-standing marble-clad “petals” arranged in clusters of three to form nine sides, with nine doors opening onto a central hall that has a capacity of 2,500 people. The whole thing is reminiscent of the Sydney opera house with its white curving roof. I was glad that I was able to see it – and it was possible to go inside, too. 

I went back to the hotel and Matthew said Vaishakh had called to see how we were on our last day – what a sweetheart. 

We had a free evening meal with our Ambassador hotel booking and we considered taking advantage of that … but it was our last night in Delhi and Delhi has lots of vegan restaurants and cafes, so we didn’t want to miss out on that – so we headed to a nice/looking one called Greenr in Greater Kailash – full of young people and lovely food! 

Then back to hotel – that’s it – our trip to India is almost ended. We’re up at 07.00 (01.30 uk time) to head to the airport for our 10:50 flight home tomorrow morning (Sunday). The flight lasts 10 hours, but because of the time change we should be back in Bristol early Sunday evening.

Friday 14 February

Delhi

My cold is hanging around and very annoying, so I’m still not feeling well. The coughing has subsided somewhat, thankfully. When I woke, Matthew gave me a hand-drawn Valentine’s Day card – he’s been carrying it with him since we left home. What a sweetheart. 

Breakfast at the Ambassador ‘Yellow Brick Road’ restaurant is a little disappointing compared to some of the other hotels we’ve stayed at – but they had muesli and fruit. Coffee was good. They had lots of red balloons up for Valentine’s Day.

Matthew booked us to visit the gardens of the Rashtrapati Bhavan (president’s residence, formerly the viceroy’s house) which was designed by Edward Lutyens. The Rashtrapati Bhavan has 355 rooms and was largely completed by 1931. Getting in turned into a bit of a saga – we were misdirected three times and then had to get a tuk tuk to the rear entrance for the right way in.

The gardens were beautiful and there were lots of school children visiting – they made for a really nice atmosphere, but meant that it was very crowded.

Afterwards we took another tuk tuk to India Gate – a massive war memorial to the over 74,000 soldiers of the Indian army who died between 1914 and 1921 fighting with the British. Also designed by Lutyens, the foundation stone of what was then called the All India War Memorial, was laid on 10 February 1921 (Lutyens designed the cenotaph in Whitehall, London, too). 

Nearby there’s a statue of Indian nationalist Subhas Chandra Bose in a tall columned cupola – the cupola was was originally built in 1936 and a statue of British king George V was installed.

The statue was vandalised in 1943 by Indian independence activists then removed in 1968 (to Coronation Park in Delhi where apparently loads of British Raj-era statues have been taken) leaving the cupola empty for many years.

There were continued debates about what the do about the empty space – a statue of Ghandi was suggested, but the current Indian prime minister installed the statue of Subhas Chandra Bose,  in 2022 – a somewhat controversial decision since although he fought for independence he collaborated with Nazis and fascist Japan in the 1940s.

We wandered along the Kartavya Path past enormous canals and fountains towards the new very heavily fortified new India parliament building, opened in 2023.

We past the massive blocks still under construction of three ‘common central secretariat’ buildings where all ministerial departments will be housed and took a metro train to Rajiv Chowk to have lunch in Third Wave, Connaught Circle – a really nice trendy place with some nice vegan options – especially the lovely bananas and chocolate loaf – yum!

I needed a rest after that – so back to our hotel and another trip to Khan Market for light dinner at Bloom Cafe. We found a nice grocery store at Khan Market – with vegan chocolate and biscuits … then an iced cream store with vegan sorbet (dark chocolate for Matthew , blueberry for me) – all a nice Valentine’s Day treat!

As anticipated, the cold that struck Michael before we got to Shimla has caught me. It hit me the night before we left Shimla and I spent the last afternoon there snuggled up in bed with a burning fever. Thankfully that passed by the time we reached Delhi, but I’ve had the sniffles and cough to contend with. I think the worst of that was yesterday as I don’t feel too bad now. I think it’s hit Michael worse than me (things do tend to hit harder when one is older!).

One of the things I said I would do when I came to India, was to have something tailored for myself. I know it’s not the cheapest holiday souvenir, but bespoke tailoring here is a lot cheaper than in the UK. I did my research before we arrived and handily there is a tailor in Khan Market, just a short walk from where we’re staying. I had made an appointment for 7pm yesterday, so that’s where we headed after we’d settled into the hotel.

When I say a short walk, it’s literally turn right out of our hotel, walk five minutes and you reach Khan Market. It’s a very strange mix of Knightsbridge/Notting Hill with a few cheap ‘tat’ shops and some small grocery stores. It’s the kind of place you could spend 100,000 rupees on a sari and also pick up some onions. There are a few familiar brands in the mix including a Body Shop, Pret A Manger and a Starbucks. The tailors I’d found is called Grover’s.

I’d been thinking about what I’d like to have made as we have travelled around India. I pondered a shirt, but as I’ve already purchased some of those this trip I thought maybe something a bit more structured. I settled on a blazer, a linen one in green. The staff were very attentive and showed me a few different green linens – but I knew straight away which one I liked. The man serving said the colour I’d chosen was very on trend at the moment. I replied, that’s me – on trend!

My measurements were taken and a little sketch was drawn up for the tailor to follow. It’ll be single breasted with a slim fit. I had to choose the lining fabric too, I chose a dark purple. They will make up the jacket ready for a final fit tomorrow night (Saturday), then it will be finished and delivered to my hotel late on Saturday. Just like that a bespoke tailored linen blazer in three days! It’s a good job I saved all that air in my bag!

Today is Valentine’s Day. Cupid must have sent my card to Bristol (something to look forward to), but I did get a bar of vegan chocolate later in the day. When I was planning our trip I was hoping to visit Amrit Udyan the garden of the Indian President. It’s only open a few weeks of the year – usually around this time – but the tickets didn’t become available for us to book until we got to India. I was pleased to book tickets for 10am today – plus they were free!

Reaching the garden turned into a bit of a saga. Google maps said it would take 35 minutes via the metro and a short walk. What Google maps hadn’t accounted for was the strict security surrounding the parliamentary complex. There were roads we couldn’t go along without a pass so were sent round another way. Just as we thought we were getting close the police block said we couldn’t get through and said we had to go all the way back round we’d come and further. Defeated (and now running late for our 10am slot) we grabbed a tuk tuk who dropped us right by the entrance – gate 35.

Getting through the security was also a faff. First they said Mike couldn’t take his ruck sack in so he had to go back to the cloak room. They said my small man bag was allowed so I went through the x Ray machine, metal detectors and frisking, only to get to the second security check to be told my bag had to go into the cloak room too, grr. This was starting to wind me up. Then we realised that we were not the only ones visiting the garden today. There were thousands – yes thousands of Indian school children all being marched in rows. I didn’t expect we’d have the garden to ourselves but this swarm of school children being frogmarched in a continuous line wasn’t really how I’d imagined us visiting the garden. 

we both wandered the ‘one-way’ route around the garden (if you don’t count the 10,000 school children who found us quite a curiosity). 

If you blocked out the snaking line of children, the garden was quite pleasant. The key feature was the hard landscaping of pools, canals and lotus flower fountains (that were working!). The sunken beds were similar to the other gardens we’d visited. An odd throwback to English gardens from the middle of the last century. Block planting of violas, pansies, sweet Williams, lillies, roses and tulips. The tulip were just at their prime and stood out. Planted in such order I suspect a ruler had been used to space the bulbs out.

From the so-called Mughal garden, we went along through the rose garden (more block planting of single rose varieties), until the route culminated in the sunken garden or butterfly garden. This was a masterpiece of block planting, and although not to my taste, I couldn’t help but be impressed with the blaze of colour. In the centre was a large pool and fountain topped it off.

We exited the garden and agreed that the walk to the India Gate would be too far, so decided to get a tuk tuk. The driver wanted 300 rupees but Mike masterfully bartered him down to 200 – which was handy as that was the lowest denomination note we had!

Thursday 13 February

Shimla – Delhi

We’re both still feeling a bit rough with our coughs and colds, but we needed to be up early, packed and eaten breakfast in time for our driver to take us to Chandargar at 8:30 from where we took a fast train to New Delhi. 

The drive down to Chandigarh was even more spectacular than the train ride up to Shimla – fantastic views of mountains, hills, valleys and passing through small towns and villages.

We arrived in Chandigarh with plenty of time to board the train. We’d been slightly worried that the driver’s fee plus tolls and taxes might use up all our rupees cash reserves, but he charged less than we expected: ₹5500 – so we were fine. 

Delhi has an estimated population of over 28 million – that’s mind-boggling- almost half the entire UK population in one place! The main New Delhi railway station seemed like most of the population in the city were there!

We found our way to the metro and bought a three ticket to allow us to explore the city. The metro is really good and we were at our hotel, the Ambassador, near Khan Square by late afternoon.

The Ambassador hotel was apparently where military officers lodged during British rule; it’s a lovely art deco building with curved balconies, white walls and big windows.

Beside the hotel there’s a lovely garden centre – the first we’ve been able to see in India. Matthew thought that it was a bit old fashioned, but I thought that it was charming.

Matthew had made an appointment with a tailor in Khan Market called Grover’s, with a view to having a jacket and/or a shirt made. He was starting to worry that it might cost a lot, but I thought it’s bound to be less than in the UK and how often do we have anything made to measure? (Never, ever obviously!). 

So Matthew was measured for a linen blazer – was fun choosing fabric and lining … he made up his mind quite quickly, it would have taken me ages. 

There was a plantbased restaurant in the market too – Green Mantis – another win! 

We were pretty tired – I think we’re both a bit run down – we were tucked up in bed by 9.

We have arrived in Delhi, India’s capital city, and despite our fears about the pollution, so far it feels better than some of the other cities we have visited – at least we can’t taste the pollution in our mouths as we could in Jaipur!

We arrived at New Delhi station at 3.30pm, bang on time. It’s a large station, so it was a bit of a walk along an elevated walkway to the metro station. Delhi has an extensive metro system so we have purchased three day travel cards for about £5 each. I didn’t really fancy walking lots when I read about the poor air quality here. The metro will get us to most places we want to be very efficiently.

It was just a short 20 minute ride with one change from yellow to violet line before we arrived at our hotel. Handily the metro stop is just around the corner from the hotel. The Ambassador is a historic 1930s white painted building with lovely curved balconies on the front. It’s arranged in a triangular shape with a domed central dining. Initially they gave us room 403, but this was on the outside facing the road and Mike was not happy with all the traffic and tooting noise, so they agreed to move us across the corridor to room 404, which faces inwards and is much quieter.

They have refurbished the hotel in a sensitive way so it’s modern and comfortable but has retained a 1930s character. The furniture in our room is beautiful wood with a deco 30s sunbeam design in marquetry. The design is repeated on the headboard. The bathroom is equally luxuriously decorated with white marble and an oval bathtub.

In front of the hotel is a large square lawn – it’s named the ‘Lutyens Lawn’ after the British Architect who designed New Delhi. The whole place feels a bit like a set for a Poirot murder mystery – hopefully there will be no mysterious affairs at the Ambassador!

Well this is nearly it for our train travels across India. We’ve caught our final Indian Railways train from Chandīgarh to New Delhi – a short trip of just under three and a half hours. Our car driver collected us from the hotel in Shimla this morning and dropped us off at Chandigarh railway station. The train departed at 12.05, but we were there by 11.30 so plenty of time to find our platform.

Like many of the stations we have been through on this trip, Chandigah is being rebuilt. It looks like they have nearly completed the large new terminal building, but the construction of new over foot bridge is continuing. The lack of health and safety is pretty remarkable. The passengers wandering along the platforms alongside half constructed columns with steel supports sticking out – without any barriers between them. As for the construction workers, although most are wearing hard hats, they are also mostly wearing flip flops! I think my health and safety colleagues would have a funny turn at the sight.

As it’s only a short journey we’re in a seated air conditioned first class carriage. It’s comfortable, but not like one of the brand new carriages we travelled in from Udaipur to Jaipur on. Shortly after leaving Chandigarh the train staff started serving lunch – a spicy tomato soup to start, followed by a vegetable curry with dhal and chapatti. There was also ice cream on offer as a desert, but sadly not vegan ice cream so we declined that.

When we were doing the tour of the secretariat  building in Chandigah a few days ago I was chatting to a young Portuguese women about the Indian trains. She had tried to book the trains herself before they arrived in India – it’s not possible to just turn up and buy a ticket here. We compared notes on trying to use the (very frustrating) Indian Railways booking system. She had been unable to set up an account as it kept asking for her mobile number so it could send her a unique code – but it wouldn’t work with her European number. I felt proud that I’d managed to navigate the system and successfully set up an account (I think I used an email to get the code). What’s more I managed to book 12 train tickets for us, including five overnight trains, and remarkably they have all worked. A few of them ran a bit late, but we got to all of the destinations on our schedule on the right date.

I’m glad I booked us first class travel – although it’s not like first class travel in the UK. What we are generally paying more for is to have our own space, which on a 12 or 15 hour train ride, is very welcome. Apart from the first overnight train where we shared our cabin with a mother and daughter who disembarked somewhere at 2am in the morning, we have had our own two-berth cabins. It’s been funny when we’ve turned up at posh hotels to be asked ‘where have you flown from?’. I think they’ve been surprised we took the train as I think most of the growing middle class travellers in India would consider the trains a bit rough. They’re not entirely wrong, there have certainly been some train toilets I never want to see again, but all in all the trains have served their purpose and got us across this vast and extraordinary country on time and for a reasonable price.

Wednesday 12 February

Shimla

A quiet, restful day in Shimla. A few days ago I had an irritating cough that has now become a proper cold and I fear that I’ve passed it on to Matthew, who I’m pretty sure had a slight fever. Ugh!

We had a nice breakfast in the hotel and chatted with the Australian couple who were beside us in the train yesterday.

We wondered about taking a walk to Chadwick Falls – about 5km / 3 miles away, but reception staff advised against that as there’s very little water falling at this time and year. 

Instead of Chadwick Falls we went for a stroll into town. Shimla has many buildings in the Victorian gothic, Scottish baronial and Edwardian ‘Jacobethan’ or ‘Tudorbethan’ style … some have new bright red or green metal roofs. The buildings are stacked against the steep hillside.

Some of the signage on the shops is from the 1950s … or even earlier. The main street in Shimla, The Mall is traffic-free – so it’s a nice place to people watch and enjoy the sunshine. Just above the Mall is a plateaux called the Ridge – a high point in Shimla with with wonderful views in all directions. 

Lots of British built buildings in Shimla have been repurposed – the viceregal lodge (Rashtrapato Niwas – or presidential residence) was built in 1888. The Simla conference of 1945 to finalise the plan for Indian self-governance took place here. The decision to carve out Pakistan and East Pakistan from India was also taken here in 1947. The building now belongs to the Ministry of Education.

Near our hotel ‘The Retreat’ is the official summer residence of the president of India. 

The Ridge had a statue of Ghandi ‘the father of the nation’ and a plaque explaining that in Gandhi visited Shimla several times between 1921 and 1946 and that in 1931, Mahatma Gandhi addressed a huge rally on the Ridge. Christ church is also on the ridge – a very recognisable Anglican church with a square tower – although it’s painted yellow and gold.

It was amusing to notice so many locals wrapped up warm in puffa jackets and woolly hats – whereas we found it comfortably warm!

We headed back to our hotel for the afternoon – we’ve a lovely balcony view and it was good to recharge a bit before we make our way to Delhi tomorrow.

The Cecil Oberoi is reputed to be the finest hotel in Shimla – I haven’t tried any of the others, so I can neither confirm nor deny if this is true. However, I can confirm that it is a very odd place indeed. 

The original part of the hotel was built in the late nineteenth century, it consists of a huge atrium, which was originally open to the sky, but now has a glass roof. Around the atrium are galleries, where the original bedrooms are situated. At the bottom of the atrium is a huge lounge with a bar at one end and lots of traditional sofas, chairs and coffee tables. A grand piano sits in the middle and in the evening the resident pianist tinkles away playing tunes from the 1920s and 30s. 

The atrium reminds me of one of those that might be in one of those huge ocean cruise liners. All the fittings are in mahogany wood and gold, giving it a touch of the ship Titanic or perhaps the Queen Mary. It could also be compared to the Marie Celeste as I don’t think I’ve seen more than a handful of people in it at anyone time! To be fair, this is probably because it’s not peak season for Shimla and it’s still quite chilly, I’m sure it’s fuller when the weather warms up.

The Oberoi hotel underwent a large renovation and extension at the end of the twentieth century, a whole new wing was added, which includes the dinning room, pool, spa, gym, activity centre, billiard room and library and a block of new rooms (that includes ours). Given the hotel is on top of a steep hill, the additional block is quite strange to navigate. From the entrance lobby to get to our room we descend a grand staircase, then take a lift up two floors. To go the pool we go down the lift two floors then down another grand staircase, to the spa and gym, keep going down two more flights. It’s all decked out in wooden columns, panelling and gold, with potted ferns and potted aspidistras. Navigating the extension feels like entering the Crystal Maze ‘Edwardian Zone’.

From the entrance lobby, the restaurant is found at the bottom of the grand staircase. Before entering the restaurant there’s another ‘country house style lounge’ with tables set up to play chess and a real fire – one of the staff was attempting (unsuccessfully) to light the fire last night, holding newspaper over the opening to get it to start – but it wouldn’t. It is cold out, but it’s not that cold in the hotel, so it must have just been for effect.

The dining room is where we find most of the guests – almost entirely old, retired, white Brits. Watching people over breakfast this morning was hilarious. I suspect most of them have come here to find a little bit of England, and to be fair, it does look the part. But clearly the food and service are not like they have a home. I heard one couple trying to order a cup of tea – they just wanted tea, not to be offered a choice of Darjeeling, English Breakfast, Earl Grey or Ceylon.  They want PG tips – and for heaven sake, not warm milk!

When offered the breakfast menu the older couple on the table opposite us almost turned pale when they saw the Indian breakfast specialities. I was quite enjoying my potato doughnut with a chilli dhal and coconut chutney, but I half expected them to speak the line from the film Shirley Valentine and ask if they could just do them ‘egg and chips’.

We have most certainly landed in the ‘colonial club winter retreat’. Thankfully we’re only here for one night before we head to Delhi for a final few days. I’m quite looking forward to being back in a big cosmopolitan city, but Mike isn’t looking forward to the pollution. Delhi is infamous for the smog. Unfortunately he has picked up a nasty cold, and I think I might be getting it next, so the thought of breathing more muck when the cold makes it difficult to breath isn’t something to look forward to. 

There’s a small pharmacy next to the hotel, so I’ve purchased some cold and flu medication – well I hope that’s what it is, are as unlike a UK chemist where all the drugs are boxed and branded, here the pharmacist just puts some silver packaged pills in a paper bag – we could be taking anything! If the pills don’t work, we could check into the ‘hospital and sanatorium’ which is next to the chemist, but as it’s run by the Seventh Day Adventists, I think I’ll pass and take my chances with the random pills.

The train climb to Shimla yesterday was epic. It felt like the climb would never end and the way the track would twist back on itself to wind along the mountainside seemed equally mad. Shimla is 2277 meters above sea level and the air is cleaner here than anywhere else we’ve been in India.

The view from our hotel bedroom looks out across the valley to more distant mountains. We’re so far north now that we’re not so far from the Indian borders with Pakistan and Nepal. On the map Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan and China aren’t that far away either. The temperature is a fresh 5°, and we might hit a high of 13 today, quite a contrast and certainly preparing us for our return to the UK – I might even dig my gloves out.

When we checked-in last night I was tempted to open the bedroom French doors onto our balcony to enjoy the view. However the hotel porter advised us to be wary of the monkeys. Sure enough, moments later a monkey climbed onto our balcony and started to tap on the window wanting to be let in! I think I’ll admire the view from inside. 

Tuesday 11 February

Chandigarh – Shimla

Breakfast in the Hyatt Centric in Chandigarh is lovely – and they definitely, and by a long way, have the best coffee we’ve drunk so far in India!

Our taxi to the station in Chandigarh arrived at 0930 to take us to get our train to Kalka where we changed to the narrow-gauge Kalka – Shimla train. 

The Kalka – Shimla railway opened in 1903 and the route goes up into the Himalayan foothills with many twists and turns for 100km / 60 miles. There are 103 tunnels and 864 bridges. The track climb from 656 meters / 2,152 ft to a peak elevation of 2,076 meters / 6,811 ft at Shimla.

Shimla is the state capital and the largest city of the state of Himachal Pradesh – it’s also the furthest north in India that we’ll get. In 1864, Shimla was made the British summer capital in India because of its cool temperatures in the high forested hills. After independence, Shimla became the state capital of East Punjab. During the British Raj Shimla was famous for summer parties, balls and sports. There are still lots of recognisably British buildings in the city.

The ride on the train was brilliant – beautiful views; but something that makes me very sad about India was also really evident today – there’s rubbish strewn everywhere and here we were in a beautiful precious landscape and everywhere we looked there were discarded cartons, cans, plastic bags, foil trays … it’s horrendous. Most of the cities we’ve been to have been the same (with a couple of good exceptions). People were chucking stuff out of the train windows and it’s maddening. 

There were a couple from near Perth, Australia behind us and Matthew overhead that they were staying in the same hotel as us. When we arrived in Shimla the Australian couple took a cab to the hotel, we walked and arrived before them – we all laughed about that.

The Oberoi is quite high end – a beautiful hotel in an old building.

we didn’t check-in at reception as would normally be expected, instead we were offered drinks and escorted to our room (actually three rooms – bed-sitting room, bathroom and walk-in wardrobe). Our bags were carried in and after a short questionnaire on an iPad we were handed the keycards. While this was going on, a monkey climbed down onto our balcony and stared through the window!

I’ve been feeling a bit unwell for a few days, with a developing cough (that at first I put down to pollution) and now o think that I have a cold. I needed to rest while Matthew went swimming and had dinner on his own.

Hopefully I’ll be much better tomorrow.

Our holiday in India is rapidly coming to an end – there are just five days before we fly back to the UK and return to normal life. We’ve been looking back at all the places we’ve visited and it’s remarkable just how far we have travelled in this vast country from east to west, south to north. Before we head back to Delhi, we’ve a bit further north to go towards the Himalayas.

We’ve taken the Himalayan Queen ‘toy train’ from Kalka to get to Shimla. It’s a narrow gauge railway that climbs, and climbs, and climbs some more. The railway is a remarkable feat of engineering as it winds its way higher and higher – clinging to the edge of the mountain. The views are incredible down valleys and gorges. Almost as remarkable as the railway is the way towns and villages cling to the mountainside, its looks implausible that they don’t just slide down.

Our carriage is full of a mixture of tourists, some Indian and others from around the world. I think there are a couple of other Brits and an older couple behind us sound like they are from Australia or New Zealand. I overheard them say that they are staying at the same hotel we are at, so I’ll try and ‘do an Aunty Janet’ and find out about their life story. There is a large annoying man sitting across the aisle from me. Not only does he keep scrolling through social media on his phone with the volume turned right up, after he’d eaten his lunch I saw him scrunch up the packaging and throw it out the carriage window – disgusting.

When we reach Shimla we’ll be staying at the poshest hotel of this trip. It’s called the Oberoi Cecil. It was a tip off from one of my work colleagues. It’s the (even) more expensive brand of the Trident hotel chain we stayed at in Mumbai. It’ll be two days of rest and relaxation in the Himalayan foothills (pretty big foothills!) before we make our final journey back to Delhi where we’ll spend three nights before we fly home.

I didn’t feel like a run this morning, but I was wide awake by about 6.30am so I thought I would take another walk in the rose garden. It was just light and a bit nippy (about 10 degrees), fortunately the coats we’d left in our hotel in Bengaluru arrived at our hotel in Chandigarh yesterday, so I wrapped up well and headed out.

To reach the rose garden it’s a short walk from our hotel via a broad underpass. The underpass here is not like most UK underpass (i.e. dark, dingy, covered in graffiti and usually smelling of wee). This one is wide, the entrance is via a large stepped and sloping approach with a modern sculpture. All along the underpass artworks are hung as though it were an exhibition in a gallery. There were at least two small groups doing their early morning yoga. On the park side of the underpass I went up a ramp that is aligned with topiary animals.

As already mentioned, the rose garden is huge. There were already lots of people doing their early morning walk. It reminded me of UK friends Helen and Celia who usually meet up to go for a morning walk. The sun was up and although not warm it felt like an early cool summer morning to me, but amusingly all the Indian walkers were wrapped up in woolly hats and puffer jackets, I guess this is pretty cold to them.

The paths through the rose garden go round in interlocking curves so I wandered aimlessly admiring the blooms. In the centre is an oval pool with an enormous fountain. Chandigah has definitely won on the fountain front – they’ve all been working for a start. The jet on this one is huge, and we can see it from our hotel room shooting high above the tree canopy.

The park was set out as part of the original city plan and it is dotted with benches and also has unusual egg-shaped litter bins that swivel on a central axis for the refuse people to empty them. The swivel also makes it easy for others to access the content. The others in this case being two street dogs who were also up early scavenging for their breakfast. If I’d had any food with me I’d have put it down for them but alas I had nothing, so I left them to fend for themselves and headed back to the hotel for our final breakfast in Chandīgarh.

Three weeks in India and as a comparatively well off white European man I am still am not comfortable with being addressed as Sir (or Sir Mr Matthew) or waited on hand, foot and finger. In all the hotels we’ve stayed in there have been staff everywhere. It makes it very hard to do anything yourself. If I go to open a door, someone does it for me. Go to pick up my bag, someone’s got it for me. It all got a bit silly yesterday when I went to make some toast at breakfast.

I did at least manage to cut two slices of bread without anyone wrestling the knife and cutting board from my hands, but that’s where my involvement ended. As I approached the toaster and tried to insert the bread, a man appears and takes over. On insetting the bread he decides that the toaster isn’t adequate, so removes the toaster from the table and disappears with it. Another person appears almost instantly with another toaster. Man number one inserts the bread. After a short while a third man appears and decides the second toaster is still not up to the job. He removes my bread and goes off behind the counter to toast it on a grill. I stand there for about ten minutes until man number three returns with my toasted bread. I thank him and return to my table.

I sit down and look for a mini pot of jam on my table – but Michael has eaten the jam. All I am left with is mini jars of ketchup (yuk!) and honey (no thanks). I glance over to the other table to see if there is jam there. Almost instantly a woman appears, asks if I need anything. I say I’m looking for jam. she picks up the jar of jam from the next table, but rather than hand it to me she insists on opening it. She is quite slight and but stands next to me wrestling with the lid on the mini jam jar, which she can’t undo. I say ‘they’re quite stiff – shall I try’ but no, she will not be deterred. Breathless, and a bit red, she finally undoes the jam jar lid and passes it to me. I hold onto my knife with a firm grip determined to spread the jam on the toast myself!

Monday 10 February

Chandigarh

We arrived early this morning in Chandigarh. It’s beautiful – a lovely city … green, clean, peaceful, with lots of open space, even cycle lanes! Demographically, Chandigarh feels different too – there seem to be more Sikhs here than other places that we’ve visited (although they make up only about 12% of the population).

We’d booked into our hotel last night, so that we could use our room as soon as we arrived this morning. We cleaned up and had breakfast then went off to explore the Rock Garden and some parks and the rose garden. We were intending to visit the Le Corbusier’s state parliament building, courthouse and ‘open hand’ monument, but that was only possible on a guided tour-fortunately, there was a guided tour available at 3 o’clock this afternoon that we could book onto.

Chandigarh has a really interesting history – the state capital of Punjab was historically Lahore, but following the partition of India in 1947 the western, mostly Muslim, part of Punjab was became part of Pakistan while they mostly seek and Hindu east remained in India. Lahore was in the west and so the India Punjab had no state capital. Another city could have been made into the state capital, but the first prime minister of India, Jawaharlal Nehru, wanted a new modernist planned city to be built. 

Last year we went to see an exhibition at the V&A called ’Tropical Modernism’, it was fascinating and explored the work of the British modernist architects who found it difficult to gain commissions in the more architecturally conservative UK during the 1930s, 40s and 50s, but who were able to adapt European modernist architecture to suit tropical climates, particularly in India and many colonial African countries – big overhangs and deep window recesses to provide shade and lots of ventilation for cooling. The master plan for Chandigarh and some of the important buildings in the city was developed by the Swiss-French architect, Le Corbusier, but the British architects Maxwell Fry and Jane Drew were involved too.

The Rock Garden, is one of the most famous sites in India. The garden was started by the clearly rather eccentric Nek Chand Saini. Visiting it was one of the main reasons that Matthew wanted to come here. Nek Chand was a city engineer who collected materials from demolition sites around the city that he could recycle into a huge enchanted garden in a designated wooded valley that was a conservation zone close to the city centre. The garden is made up of interlocking courtyards and passages richly decorated with stones, concrete designs and stones. The garden was built covertly, unknown to the authorities and completely illegal. When the rich garden was discovered the some in the city wanted to demolish it, but after it became evident that there was huge public support Nek was employed by the city to further develop the garden with 50 staff! Nek Chand Saini died in 2015, but the garden continues to develop and is hugely pop. Matthew will no doubt want to write far more knowledgeably about the garden than I can.

When we’d done and found that we couldn’t just go to the Le Corbusier state buildings we walked back to our hotel through a series of beautiful interlocking parks  – beginning with the Chandigarh War Memorial – shocking and tragic how many have died since independence.

Then through Bougainvillier Park (we saw some women rehearse a dance – looked like lots of fun); Leisure Valley ( with a curious miniature leaning Eiffel Tower and some improvised cricket games); then the rose garden (the biggest in Asia). 

W didn’t have much time back at the hotel before we had to set off for the tour if the state buildings. That was brilliant – a really good guide and we were joined by a group of architecture students. 

We didn’t expect to see inside the state parliament – but in we went (no photography allowed there, unfortunately).

We rested up then went to see some performing fountains around the corner that played from 18:30. 

Dinner at AJA Chandigarh,

Then back to bed to ready ourselves for the Himalaya Queen (train) to Shimla tomorrow.

I often used to visit Milton Keynes (MK) the new town in Buckinghamshire where my work head office was located until a few years ago. MK is quite unlike any other UK city as it’s laid out on a grid road system – in fact it’s famous for its roundabouts which are located at almost every junction. It’s also famous for being very green, as most of the sections within the grid are hidden from the road network by lots of trees and planting. It also has a famous sculpture of concrete cows.

Indian cities have lots of cows just casually wandering the streets. Chandīgarh is not like other Indian cities at all. There are no cows (not even concrete ones) but there are lots of roundabouts – just like MK, it’s built on a grid system with numbered sections In between. It’s also beautifully green with trees lining all the streets. And a series of big green parks called the lungs of the city, running right through the middle.  

After visiting the Rock Garden, we walked through the sections of the central gardens from the war memorial to the rose garden. It’s such a lovely central axis to the city and was being enjoyed by all sorts of people, walking or sitting on the many benches. Under the trees were a group of young women’s practicing a dance routing they were great.

The rose garden itself is enormous, apparently it’s the largest rose garden in Asia. It’s planted with hundreds of different varieties, each in a separate bed. It’s like how rose gardens in the UK were planted in the 1950s. Each bed had a plaque giving the name of the rose. It said in the guide that February is the best time to see the roses, before it gets too hot, so good timing on our part. From the rose garden itself was just a short walk under a large, well lit underpass with Indian music playing, to our hotel on the road opposite the rose garden. It might be the perfect spot for an early morning run – if I can get up early enough.

Most people come to Chandigah to see the modernist architecture. It was India’s first new city post independence and some of the main buildings were designed by the Swiss-French architect Le Corbusier. We did the architecture tour too, but before that we went to see the main reason I came to Chandīgarh – a pile of rubbish!

When Chandīgarh was being developed in the 1950s a local traffic officer called Nek Chand started to secretly transform a wooded area that he knew there was no plans to develop as it had been designated as a nature area. He collected discarded waste material from around the city and from a small shed he’d constructed in the forest, began to build a remarkable ‘garden’. He carried on creating it for nearly 20 years before it was discovered. To their credit, the local government recognised it as an amazing creation. Rather than bulldoze it, they actually started to pay him to continue his creation. The garden was eventually opened to the public so everyone can now enjoy its secrets.

It’s certainly not like any other garden in India, or elsewhere in the world that I’ve visited for that matter. We enter through a small low arch in a wall made of piled stones and concrete. Having to stoop down to enter adds to the sense of entering a secret world. The path takes us along narrow high stone gullies bringing us out into small openings with eclectic sculptures created entirely from waste. There are pots piled on top of each other to create  screens and fences of old fluorescent light tubes. Walls are covered in mosaic made from things like broken plates, cups, bowls and even bathroom suites. 

We were drawn along by the sound of water and we’d turn a corner to find a pool with a fountain or a small cascade tumbling down the steep stone sides. Atop the walls are small pavilions or houses – as though the garden were inhabited by an invisible – or very shy miniature population. Further along the paths we were confronted by huge walls of water tumbling down from great heights. The size and scale of the rock garden, created largely by one man at the start is quite remarkable. Although this isn’t a garden in the traditional sense with plants, the greenery is provided by the forest that envelops the rock garden – and which for so many years helped keep its secrets.

Towards the end we came to a third section of the garden that was built after the local government gave its support. It is larger with wider paths that lead to a big wide open space with a ‘fun mirror’ arcade and large arches with swings hanging from them – a real pleasure garden. There’s a stage and amphitheatre for performances and a ‘rag doll cave’ a sort of modern day grotto.

The final part of the garden is a whacky arrangements of sculptures of people and animals all made of concrete and mosaic of broken waste ceramics. There are hundreds of them. Row after row of little men, women, deer, cats, dogs and numerous other real and fantasy creatures. We absolutely loved this garden – it’s almost worth the trip to India alone. I’d highly recommend it (even without a concrete cows). 

Sunday 09 February

Varanasi 

Our train from Agra to Varanasi Junction arrived two hours late at 0800 this morning, so we had less time in Varanasi than we planned. Our overnight train to Chandigarh is leaving at 14:47, so we only had a few hours. The station at Varanasi was really crowded – even though we thought that lots of the people on our train had got off a couple of stops earlier at Prayagraj – where the Kumbh Mela Hindu pilgrimage is taking place.

We left our bags at the cloakroom, admired the lovely station facade and headed into the city.

Varanasi (known as the‘city of light’ is situated on the West Bank of the sacred river Ganges, it’s one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world. I was hoping to see the Kashi Vishwanath Temple and then to see the river. We asked a tuk tuk driver to take is to the temple but he explained that an area in the centre of the city was a pedestrian only and he could only get us about 1km from the temple. That seemed ok.

We were dropped off and walked through barriers towards the temple and the river – there were thousands of people doing the same, many dressed in orange or red – really looking happy and cheerful. The closer were to the Kashi Vishwanath Temple  the denser the crowds became until we were on the middle of a total scrum with police blowing whistles and trying to direct the crowd. The queues to go to the temple were enormous – so we abandoned that and made our way to the river. Even that was a challenge – we were jammed up so tight with others that it felt dangerous … a fall would have been fatal. We held on to each other tightly.

We came to the river at Prayag Ghat (steps leading down the steep river bank to the water—where pilgrims perform rituals). The scene was extraordinary – hundreds of boats, thousands of people, some bathing in the water, beautiful flowers and flames floating on the river. We walked along the river for a while, and there was a lovely atmosphere. 

We walked past some Hindu holy men and tried to take everything in.

According to Hindu belief, dying in Varanasi is auspicious and grants instant salvation and thousands are cremated on the banks of the river. I didn’t want to go to the cremation ghats – it felt prurient and disrespectful, so we turned back inland down some lovely narrow lanes filled with little stores selling garlands, flowers, beads, bangles and shawls.

We needed to get some supplies for the train so went in search of a supermarket then took another Tuk Tuk back to the railway station for our next train to Chandigarh.

The last time I went on any sort of religious pilgrimage (unless you count Eurovision) was in May 1982. Pope John Paul II was at the height of his popularity and on his ‘rock star’ tour of the UK. He held a huge outdoor mass at Bagington Airfield on the edge of Coventry, where I was born and raised. The pope’s mass was a big event in Coventry – particularly for our street where just about everyone bar our house were Irish Roman Catholics (because we lived near a Catholic school). On the day of the mass we joined with everyone else to walk the five miles to Bagington. There were thousands and thousands of people descending on the site – but even that had nothing on Varanasi!

Just as Tundra Junction had been, Varanasi station was rammed. There were crowds everywhere with people arriving and departing having been on, or heading to, pilgrimage. We took a tuk tuk as far as we could, but most of the roads close to the river had been closed to vehicles – although there were still motorbikes and pedal rickshaws ploughing through the packed streets.

If I’m honest, the whole experience for me was quite unpleasant. It was a human scrum and although there were police on junctions blowing their whistle and waving their arms around, I don’t think they were making any difference. I was sandwiched close to Mike and was holding his back pack very tight as I thought if I lose him we’ll never find each other again.

As several roads converged, it went from being very crowded to a crush. It was scary. We could see how a stampede could easily happen and there’d be no way of stopping it. If anyone had fallen over they’d have been trampled underfoot. Somehow we managed to get to one side and took refuge inside an open fronted perfume shop. At one point the shop seemed to be filling up. I did slightly panic that we might get crushed to death inside this store – but then I thought, at least I’ll smell nice when they find my body!

We eventually followed another woman out of the shop and into the scrum shuffling our way forward until the crowd eased a little and then we were on the ghats (steps) on the banks of the river Ganges. The river was almost as crowded as the streets had been. There were boats full of pilgrims everywhere and on the edge of the water pilgrims were bathing themselves head to toe in the sacred waters of the Ganges. It looked pretty brown water to me, there was no way I was going near it let alone in it.

The whole sight was quite extraordinary, I can’t say I liked it though and I wasn’t overcome with any sense of spiritual awakening either. However, it was certainly working its magic on the thousands and thousands of pilgrims who’d traveled from across India to be here – and as they say ‘whatever floats your boat’.

We watched a while and took some photos before we started the return scrum back. It wasn’t quite so bad going the other way. We thought we’d better hunt some food for our long overnight train journey (the last sleeper train on our trip). We asked a tuk tuk driver to take us to where there were a few ‘malls’ (a general term for shopping areas, not the kind of Mall we have in the UK). The driver said it would be 500 rupees which we knew was an inflated price so we said no and walked instead. 

It wasn’t a long walk, but it was really horrible as the pollution and noise of beeping horns was vile. We could taste the fumes in our mouths and it made us cough, Mike is still coughing several hours later it’s that bad. We eventually found a small grocery store and then a curious supermarket called Spencer’s – think Farm Foods meets Primark with a bit of B&M thrown in for good measure! We got enough snacks to sustain us through the night and then took a tuk tuk back to the station. Our elderly driver was the slowest tuk tuk ride we’ve ever had, I said to Mike this is like ‘driving Miss Daisy’ as we sedately progressed through the crazy traffic.

Back at the station we paid 20 rupees to sit in the air conditioned waiting room with power. It was just over an hour until our final overnight train. Not wanting to be late I made sure we were on the platform well before the departure time. I’d only just worked out that the railway train tracker website also tells us the order of the carriage numbers so using this I estimated where our carriage would arrive on the platform. There are meant to be helpful little screens announcing the arrival point on the platform for each carriage but annoyingly these weren’t working.

The train was running late, but when it finally arrived it threw me as the name on the side of the carriages didn’t match the name of the train on my reservation. Also I was looking for a blue carriage as I thought that’s what A1 carriages usually would be. I thought our carriage had passed us and that we must be at the other end of the platform. I charged off Mike trying to keep up behind. I got to near the end of the train but no A1. There was a guard, so I asked him, he confirmed it was the right train but A1 was at the other end (where we’d come from) – Arghhh!

Knowing there were minutes before departure I charged down the platform pushing people out of the way, glancing back to see if Mike was keeping up (barely). I got to A1 with moments to spare bundled my bags on and looked back willing Mike to catch up. He made it just – phew! We collapsed into our two berth cabin, relieved not to have missed our train. I was dripping with sweat, I took off a few layers and lay down on my bunk to decompress.

The overnight train was one of the noisiest we’d been on (passengers not the engine!), and staff kept disturbing us to clean the cabin, try to sell us snacks, ask for dinner choice, bring dinner, clear dinner! It all added up to a not very tranquil night’s sleep. I think I grabbed a couple of blocks of 2-3 hours. We had to be awake at 5am to change trains at Ambala Cant junction for the final short stretch to Chandīgarh. I’m writing this on the connecting train. I will be very pleased to get to Chandīgarh (est arrival time 7.30am) and check into our hotel. I need a shower and my clothes are so grubby after the last few days of dirt and dust in Jaipur, Agra and Varanasi so some laundry needs washing too. We should arrive in time to freshen up and have breakfast before a day of sightseeing in India’s modernist city designed by (among others) the famous  Swiss-French modernist architect Le Coubusier. 

Saturday 08 February

Agra

This morning was a big highlight – we were up at 0500 and out of our hotel by 0530 to walk to the Taj Mahal. The morning was dark still – the road to the east gate entrance of the Taj Mahal is wide and slopes gently down with perforated light columns every few metres. There were cows and dogs  wandering around (monkeys weren’t awake yet) and there were even some early morning runners. On one side of the road was the Taj protected forest by the river Yamuna and the stroll was a lovely, peaceful start to the day.

There was a small queue forming already to get in to the Taj Mahal  – so we were glad that we’d made the effort to arrive before the crowds. The number of people really swelled quickly. The security was super-serious, scanners (us and bags) and body searches and bag searches – all a bit chaotic, but we were in by 0700, just before sunrise. 

I don’t think I could ever do justice to the feeling of being in the Taj Mahal. It’s one of the seven wonders of the modern world (along with Colosseum in Rome, Petra in Jordan, Chichén Itzá in Mexico, Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro, Machu Picchu in Peru and The Great Wall of China). It’s breathtaking and being there felt very special and emotional. The changing light as the sun rose really changed how Taj Mahal looked and the atmosphere.

Commissioned in 1631 by the fifth Mughal emperor, Shah Jahan, as a mausoleum for his wife, Mumtaz Mahal who died aged 38 while giving birth to their fourteenth child. Construction in phases took 22 years. 

Inside (no photographs allowed) are the likenesses of the tombs of Mumtaz Mahal and Shah Jahan with the actual burials in the basement.

The gardens are divided into four quadrants that were further subdivided into four and originally filled with flowers and fruit trees, in Muslim belief, heavenly paradise is a garden, but by the time that the British Raj began in 1858 the gardens had become overgrown and the were remodelled in the style of a 19th century London park, which is how they still appear today.

After our visit we walked quietly back to our hotel for breakfast and arranged a late checkout. I’d thought that we might go to the Agra (Red) Fort this afternoon (completed in 1573 and the main residence of the Mughal rulers until 1638, when they moved to Delhi. It’s vast – really a walled city). But after the Taj Mahal, I didn’t really want to see any more  sights – and I knew that the Agra Fort would be incredible. I just didn’t think I could – and wasn’t sure that I wanted – to take anything more in. Furthermore, we’d gone past the fort last night on our way to and from  Chand Baori and the Taj Mahal viewpoint and also we were going to be taking a train from Agra Fort station at 18:20, so I had seen the outside already and I imagined that there’d be some time to look at the outside of the Agra Fort later.

We rested up and headed out for some late lunch at the vegan restaurant that we visited last night. We used the very new and clean and largely empty Agra Metro – that was good fun.

We went back to our hotel to collect our bags and then back to the metro that would take us to Agra Fort station (and our last glimpse of the Taj Mahal) for our night train.

We didn’t really see much more of the Agra Fort, which was a shame – but sometimes something has to give and I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t get to see more.

At Agra station a couple of young men from the Netherlands asked us about the trains – lots of good chat followed about the vagaries of the trains and the website dnd the platform signs and the carriage signs and the platform alterations. While we taking we watched a monkey on the platform run up behind a man carrying a bag of biscuits and snatch it out of his hand then run away. The man was too sensible to give chase and the cheeky (or just very hungry) monkey sat on the ground, opened the bag and ate the lot!

The young men were interesting and interested – they were in India for two weeks and were also hoping to get to Mexico, New York and Quebec. One wanted to study medicine, the other was less certain – but perhaps criminology! I think that the young people we’ve met who are travelling around without much by way of money, in what to them must be very strange and difficult to navigate countries are an inspiration  – I rather wish that I’d had their wherewithal when I was their age.

We were all going to be boarding the same train  – they were going to Vatanesi, too – but we were changing to our sleeper train after two stops at Tundla Junction. We got off on a station that was absolutely heaving. I’d no idea how we’d all fit on our train – which was an hour late. Matthew was anxious that we might not be able to get on – the platform signs weren’t showing where each carriage would stop and if we were in the wrong place on the platform, what with the length of the train and the huge crowds, we’d be unlikely to get from one end of the train to the other before it left if the need arose. To add to the chaos there was a last-minute change of platform!

Thankfully a porter came to our rescue and led us to where our carriage was likely to be. Once the train arrived, Matthew made a dash for our allocated carriage door and boarded the train – I was stuck behind a barrow piled high with luggage and surrounded by dozens of people who were also trying to get on. A couple of train attendants were simultaneously pushing people away from the door to prevent them getting into a carriage and grabbed me and pulled me on! This was extraordinary – there’s no way I’d have made it on to the train otherwise. It doesn’t bear thinking about – Matthew on his way to Varanasi and me 600km / 400 miles away in Tundla Junction!

I’ve been planning this trip over the past year, but despite my meticulous research and a detailed spreadsheet that includes the itinerary of where and when we’ll be visiting, there have been some remarkable coincidences that I hadn’t planned for. There was flower shows in Chennai and Bengaluru, then there was the pride parade and the India vs England Cricket match in Mumbai. However, by far the biggest event that our trip coincides with (which I had no idea about when planning it) is the Kumbh Mela religious event.

Kumbh Mela is one of the largest Hindu religious events on earth. it’s an especially sacred and religious Hindu festival, celebrated in India. it’s the revered Hindu festival that dignifies the Hindu faith, jam-packed with cultural and ancient values. Truthfully, it says that Kumbh Mela is an example of unity among diversity. The Kumbh Mela rotates between four pilgrimage places on four sacred rivers, at Prayagraj (Allahabad) at the confluence point (Triveni Sangam) of the Ganges, the Jamuna, and the mythical Sarasvati, at Haridwar on the bank of Ganges River, at Ujjain on the Shipra, at Nashik on the Godavari river. 

When deciding where we’d visit, I didn’t initially plan for us to visit Varanasi. I was aware that this city on the banks of the Ganges is a very holy place and it’s where many people are cremated due to its holy significance. I was also aware that the Ganges is very polluted (maybe related to the burning of over 40,000 bodies by it each year). The water is considered so toxic that they can’t even use it to irrigate crops. Spiritual it may be, but it also sounds pretty grim to me, so not high on my wish list of places to visit. It was only because Michael thought we should visit that it was squeezed onto the schedule – and I mean squeezed in. We arrive early on an overnight train from Agra and we depart on another overnight train to Chandigarh. We have a day in Varanasi.

When we realised that our day trip to Varanasi just happens to coincide with one of the largest religious festivals and pilgrimages, it has made us a little anxious. Not just us, our Indian friends Vaishakh, Bharath, Shubhi and their friend Amruta all queried whether it was a good idea to visit right now as it will be very busy in Varanasi. I did look at whether we might be able to change our plans and take a train directly from Agra to Chandigarh, but there was no availability so we decided we’d stick to plan A.

We didn’t really get a sense of how busy the Kumbh Mela is going to be until we arrived at Tundra Junction station from Agra to change onto our overnight train to Varanasi. The station was very crowded and there seemed to be lots of chaos whenever a train arrived that was headed in the direction of Varanasi. We had booked berths in a first class sleeper car, and I could see on the Indian Railways website that our train was running late. 

We weren’t sure what platform or where on the platform (the trains are unbelievably long) our carriage would be. I asked a porter, although he spoke very little English he looked at our ticket and took us to a waiting room and through a few words of broken English and hand signals, he managed to tell us our train was 30 minutes late and to wait there until 9pm before going to the platform. We obeyed, I went and found some salted crisps and bottled water – a delux vegan train tea for us, and returned to wait with Michael.

Anxious British travellers that we are, we got to 8.45pm and decided we should head to platform 5 where our train was due to depart. We got as far as the ‘over foot bridge’ as they’re quaintly called here and stopped to see what information about our train would appear on the electronic display. As we peered down onto the platform we were aghast at what we could see. There was already another train on the platform and a human scrum was taking place at every door as people pushed and shoved to try and get onto the carriages. We stood looking down as two train came and went and the same performance  repeated itself.

The platform was rammed, there were groups of women wearing beautiful saris sat on the floor all up the platform. Our train had still not arrived and given the pandemonium we’d seen we thought we’d better at least try and position ourselves on the platform close to where our carriage would arrive. We pitched on the forward end of the platform as that’s where most of the first class carriages we’ve caught have departed from. It was very crowded and I said to Mike ‘do you think they might storm first class?’ – I sounded like a character from an EM Forster novel!

It was at this point our porter friend reappeared and barking a few words neither of understood, he beckoned us to follow him. He clearly knew our late (and getting later) train was going to switch across to adjacent platforms from 5 to 6 (not over the bridge fortunately – that would have caused a stampede!). He also knew we needed to be at the opposite end of the platform to where we’d been standing. Another train pulled in – he indicated this wasn’t our train, so we stood back and watched another round of human train scrum carnage unfold.

Shortly after our train started to pull into platform 6. The porter urgently beckoned to follow him as he started to run alongside the train by the door to H1 – our carriage. I kept up but was worried Michael, with his bad foot, was lagging behind. Fortunately the train soon came to a halt. The crowd swelled, I was right by the door and the porter pushed me from the platform as a first class train porter pulled me from the carriage end. I looked back and Michael was four of five people behind the crowd. I shouted to him to push and hollered to the porters ‘get him, get him’. The porters literally dragged Mike through the crowd as they beat off the others trying to board the carriage without a ticket. We were aboard, but I think we were both in a state of shock.

I’d had a call from brother Philip earlier today to tell me the sad news that my uncle Pete (my dad’s brother) had died yesterday. He was in his 70s and wasn’t the healthiest of men, but he wasn’t at death’s door either, so it was a bit of a shock. A bit of me is thinking that Pete is looking down chuckling at tonight’s train saga and maybe sent a guardian porter to help us. We are now safely ensconced in our (locked) first class cabin. There are four porters and a train guard in this carriage so I think we’ll be safe tonight – but goodness knows what Varanasi will be like!

We went to bed early(ish) last night as we knew we’d be up at 5am for our sunrise visit to the Taj Mahal. It wasn’t so easy to get to sleep though as there were fireworks going off and lots of music and noise combing from somewhere outside. On our way back to the hotel last night we’d bumped into a loud mini-parade of something with lights, music and men on horses. It was like the Bridgewater carnival had come to Agra. We asked at reception if it was a particular festival. It’s just wedding season was the reply.

The alarm went off at five and I dragged myself out of bed, showered and dressed. Mike followed shortly behind. We were out of the hotel by 5.30 to walk to the East Gate of the Taj. As we’ve mentioned previously, the pavements here are shocking, add in no street lights and they are a virtual death trap. We carefully made our way along the side street our hotel is on until we reached the main road which was lit. The main road down to the Taj East Gate is probably one of the best paved streets we’ve encountered, but even then I managed to trip up twice (fortunately maintaining my upright position on both occasions). It really looked as though this street had been ‘done up’ for when India hosted the G20 summit of world leaders in 2023. As well as pavements it had very fancy street lights and trees planted all along.

When we reached the east gate the queues were already building. There are separate  queues for Indian and foreign visitors (or high value ticket holders as they called us). We joined and had to wait until 6.30am before they started to open the doors (30 minutes before sunrise). When they finally opened we then had to slowly shuffle through the most bizarre and chaotic security checks. Women and men had to go into separate queues. They had just four metal detectors (of which only two were working) and everyone was frisked after passing through the detector. Bags had to be put through the x-ray scanner, but there was only one. A security guard was literally pilling bags on top of each other and shoving them into the machine. One x-ray machine seemed totally inadequate for India’s top tourist attraction (visited by more than 3 million each year). I think that we’ve seen more x-ray machines at most of the Indian metro stations we’ve visited. 

After the bags came out, they were piled onto a table where security staff would randomly pick them off the pile and open every part, empty the content and check them. What was bizarre was that there was one side for women’s bags and the other side for men’s bag, but of course there was no way of knowing which bags belonged to who as they’d all been shoved through the same x-ray machine. My bag got pulled out by a guard checking the women’s bag. It had got tangled up with a women’s handbag so as he pulled that one out, mine went with it. I rushed around to the ‘women’s side of the table’ as she was reclaiming her bag (with mine still attached!). What was even more bizarre was that although they’d emptied her bags contents and checked it, they didn’t touch mine! We untangled the straps of the bags and commented on how chaotic the process was. Mike retrieved his bag from the men’s side (after it had been emptied and checked), then we were free to go through into the site. Mike wondered if USA presidents had to go through this, I suspect not.

It was nearly seven (sunrise), there had been a moment when i thought we’d be watching the sunrise over the metal detectors of the Taj Mahal, but fortunately we just made it to the main event. Despite there being hundreds of other tourists there, it was still magical (a definite pinch myself moment) watching the morning light on the Taj Mahal and seeing the sun slowly illuminate the beautiful white marble of the mausoleum. It went for a pale blue in the morning mist, to a warm white as the sun’s beams slowly fell across it. It was definitely worth the early rise.

We proceeded to don our shoe covers to climb the vast marble platform on which the mausoleum sits, and entered the Taj. No photos are allowed inside, and we shuffled around in a one way system. We’d seen beautiful images and drawings of the tomb in the Great Mughals exhibition in London last year, and here we were looking at the real thing – truly beautiful. I managed to miss the ‘no-photos’ sign and took a couple of photos of the sun falling through the lattice work into the mausoleum. after we’d exited and taken a few more photos as we traced our way back through the garden and bumped into Tom and Lilly near to the famous bench where Princess Diana had been photographed. Their friend took a nice photo of us to add to our blog before we bid our farewells and headed back to our hotel for breakfast.

As predicted the driver from Jaipur to Agra pretty much wiped us out of cash. We thought we had enough to see us through the day as long as the restaurant we planned to go to took cards. We took a tuk tuk from the view point to the restaurant and were pleased to see ‘vegan friendly’ proudly emblazoned on the sign. We went in and took a seat. The menu was good and they recommended some good dishes. It was then we asked if they took cards – no cash only. 

Ah. We only had around 700 rupees (not enough for our dinner). It was ok we thought as there were cash points nearby. Mike set off in search of the nearest machine – that’s where it all started to go wrong. As soon as he’d left I thought, bad idea. I should have gone. I had this sinking feeling in my stomach that told me Mike was going to have a repeat of yesterday’s stressful incident. I was right.

He was gone a very long time, the food came, he didn’t. Even the lovely restaurant guys were worried about him and offered to go and collect him in the back of their motorbike. Even if the ‘find my friend’ feature had been working accurately (it wasn’t the spot showing where Mike was kept jumping around), I thought Mike would never get on the back of a motorbike at home let alone here!

While I waited I was joined at our table by Tom and Lilly two young Brits who were travelling around India. It turned out they’d not set out together, but had met on way and were now a group along with another young women (she wasn’t feeling well so was back at their hostel). It was great talking to them and comparing notes on our travels – Tom had also been to Chennai and we agreed ‘what a dump’. On her return to the UK Lilly was planning to convert a van and go travelling with a friend in Europe, i was so impressed and a bit jealous, I’d not been brave enough to do anything like that when I was her age. Chatting to them helped ease my anxieties about Mike being ‘lost in Agra’. I was telling them about him and where he’d gone, and how I knew he’d be in a terrible state when he (hopefully) returned.

I finally managed to WhatsApp message him, then call him. It had (as if feared) been a ‘wild goose chase’ trying to find a cashpoint that worked, and he’d been unsuccessful and was now lost in Agra’s narrow back streets. Thank goodness he managed to find his way back to a main road on his own. I had passed my phone to the restaurant guys who spoke excellent English to try and help him find his was, but even they conceded he was lost! 

When he finally arrived at the restaurant he was not a happy bunny, and still had no cash. I asked the restaurant guys how much our meal was (more than we had), I thought we’d be doing the washing up. Thanks to the kindness of Tom we didn’t need to. He gave us 500 rupees, and wouldn’t let me transfer some money to him. He just said to ‘pay it forward’ – what a sweetheart. They finished their meal and set off before Mike realised what he’d done. I said we might see them in the morning at the Taj as that’s where they planned to be to see the sunrise. Sure enough they were and I was able to repay Tom his 500 rupees – but I’ll definitely be taking a cue from Tom and will ‘pay it forward’ to someone else in need.

Friday 07 February

Agra

Today is Peter Major’s birthday – happy birthday Pete! Pete is looking after our dogs while we’re here – thanks Pete – we know they’re in good hands! And a big lick from Zoly as thanks, plus her bum in your face while you’re in bed from Jojo as thanks, too!

Our driver collected us at 0900 this morning in Jaipur to drive to Agra. There are trains between Jaipur and Agra, but Matthew really wanted to see the amazing 8th-9th century Chand Baori stepwell in the village of Abhaneri – it’s 30m /100ft deep with 13 stories and 3500 steps – it’s one of the largest stepwells in India. 

We didn’t stay long at Chand Baori because we didn’t want to be too late arriving in Agra – when we were in Mumbai Amruta recommended we visit the tomb of Itmad-ud-Daula, a Mughal mausoleum built in 1622, which is sometimes called the “Baby Taj”, as it is regarded as a precursor of the Taj Mahal. As soon as we checked in to our hotel at 1500 we booked a taxi to take us to the mausoleum. 

We drove through Agra past the fort and could just glimpse the top of the Taj Mahal dome – exciting. Our taxi driver was singing along to Indian songs on the radio – it was sweet. The white marble mausoleum is set in beautiful gardens on the left bank of the River Yamuna; it was truly lovely – it was the first Mughal building to be finished in white marble (hence its influence on the Taj Mahal) – a real tranquil haven from the noisy streets outside. Once again, it was a shame that the fountains and rills were empty.

I realised that we were on the opposite side of the river to the Taj Mahal and the viewing area from the opposite bank wasn’t far  away – so we decided to go there. What a sight … it hardly seemed real, a pinch ourselves moment to see the Taj Mahal – it’s so iconic and something I never imagined I’d see for myself until a year ago.

After sundown we wandered back to the main road to get a tuk tuk to a vegan restaurant that Matthew had found. We passed Agra fort again and the city looked lovely lit up.

At the restaurant Matthew asked if they accepted cards – they didn’t and because our driver today didn’t accept bank transfers or card payments we were virtually out of rupees. I asked if there was an ATM nearby … there were, but neither worked with my card. There was a Bank of India ATM showing as 9 minutes walk away, so I figured that’d probably work. It wasn’t where Google maps said it was – so I ended up walking further then when I found it, it was out of cash. Infuriating!

There were some other ATMs nearby, but they wouldn’t work either. Getting back to the restaurant was challenging – I was in narrow backstreets that didn’t appear on my map. Eventually I got back to the restaurant – Matthew had been given ₹500 by a young British couple so he could pay our bill. Hopefully we’ll see them tomorrow to pay them back.

After dinner we went to another ATM that worked – so all’s well. 

Taj Mahal at dawn tomorrow morning – so early night tonight.

We could have caught a train from Jaipur to Agra but I decided we should get a driver so that we could visit this extraordinary stepwell. I’d seen pictures of it and realised it was on route to Agra. It was (another) long and crazy drive – during which my eyes mostly remained firmly closed. It was worth it for the detour though. The Chand Baori step-well was beautiful and an impressive piece of engineering. The bright sunshine really highlighted the geometric patterns of the carved steps. This was one place I’d really wanted to visit on this trip and it didn’t disappoint.

We finally made it to Agra after a further 3 hour drive. Once checked in we arranged an Uber to take us to the Itmad ud Daula also known as the baby Taj Mahal. It was suggested to us by Amruta who had guided us around Mumbai, and what a tip. It was a stunning building set in a lovely garden by the bank of the river, a bit further along from the Taj Mahal. Alas the fountains and rills were empty of water here too. I’m wondering if there is a water shortage as the river was also very low – so much so that there were dogs wading through the low water level.

It was nearing sunset so we decided we Should take another tuk tuk to the view point across the river from the Taj Mahal. We booked one on Uber and were soon whisked off in an electric tuk tuk. It was a good call as the sunset was lovely and the Taj Mahal looked magical in the fading light. We’ve got 6am tickets to see the Taj at dawn so we’ll be able to say we saw the sun set and rise on the Taj Mahal, definitely another ‘pinch me’ moment. 

Last night in Jaipur we went on a frustrating hunt for a cash point. There was an ATM just a few shops down from where we were staying, but it wouldn’t give us cash. We soon realised that we needed to find an ATM with the visa/Mastercard symbol on it to be able to get cash out on our credit card. Most places we’ve been able to pay on our card, but our driver to Agra today needed cash and as our reserves of notes were low – we had to get some more money!

We set off for a Bank of India ATM that Google maps told us was just 15 minutes walk away. That isn’t far to walk – unless you’re in India, where walking anywhere is like doing all four zones of the Crystal Maze with a Tough-Mudder obstacle course thrown in for good measure. The alleged Bank of India ATM turned out not to be where Google maps told us it was. I examined the street view image and established it was in another building further down the road. We continued on – but it was still nowhere to be seen. In further examination of the map/street view image I realised the bank ATM was at the rear of the building. Round the corner we went. Success! We found it and withdrew the cash – although the whole experience had been quite stressful.

Cash in hand we decided to get a tuk tuk to the only vegan restaurant in Jaipur – it was about 15 minutes away. The driver of the first tuk tuk to stop had no idea where it was and he spoke no English, plus he had no headlights or rear lights on his tuk tuk. It was a big no-no from Mike “I’m not getting in that!”. Although the driver was hard to shake off, we firmly declined. We found another tuk tuk parked a little further up the street. The driver was sat in the back chatting to his girlfriend on his phone (who happened to be in London and turns out had visited Bristol 4 times). He wasn’t able to drive us but he rushed into his store and came out with his brother who duly agreed to take us.

He was a nice young guy who insisted we ‘pay him what we felt’ as ‘it was only money’. He was very chatty and intrigued why we were going so far for a restaurant. We explained we were vegan and that’s why. He was interested in what we did and didn’t eat. The journey was all going fine until we came up to a large island intersection and he stalled the tuk tuk! We were stuck in the middle of about six lanes of crazy traffic as he tried to restart it. I think he’d flooded the engine (he kept saying it was over full). He uttered something about him going to kill his brother (who’s tuk tuk it was). We were both hoping that he didn’t kill us first. Both Mike and I had visions of something ramming into the back of this stalled tuk tuk. We had everything crossed, willing the engine to restart. Fortunately he managed to get it going again and we crawled off – somewhat limping along until we got to the restaurant.

The meal was nice and the two guys who ran the restaurant were friendly, if a little surprised to see two white European guys turn up – or maybe anyone turn up as we were the only two people inside. After we’d eaten and paid we set back on the hunt of another tuk tuk back (we were shaken but not stirred by our latest near death experience). As we were further out of the city there were fewer tuk tuks around and we stood by the side of the road for a while waiting. Suddenly one pulled up. It was a six seater – two up front and four facing each other at the back. It already had three guys in it, but as we’d not had any other luck and the said they’d take us for R200 (about £2) we agreed and got in.

It was only once we’d set off that I realised just how dilapidated this tuk tuk was. The seats were stuck together with tape and as I glanced up, instead of seeing a roof there was part of a rusting sheet of metal flapping above my head. I crossed everything and carefully tracked the route home on Google maps on my phone to make sure we were not being kidnapped. They dropped us one station sooner than we had asked for and then tried to charge us R50 more than the agreed price (they didn’t get it), but I was just relieved to get out alive! I can see the appeal of an Uber over this!

We’ve spent our day in Jaipur sightseeing, first a short walk from our apartment to the Jantar Mantar – an extraordinary astronomical observation site. It was created at the behest of Maharaja Raja Jai Singh II in the 18th century. A man of science and astronomy enthusiast, Jai Singh II had five observatories built in different cities of India (that of Jaipur is the largest and best preserved of the five), in order to be able to precisely determine the position of the celestial bodies, which in practice it differed from that calculated theoretically.

The site is remarkably preserved and still works. It is amazing to think that so long ago with just the stars and planets to guide them they could calculate with such precision. The different instruments in the observatory are not only practical, but also quite beautiful. Their forms could almost be abstract sculptures.

Outside the Jantar Mantar, despite our protests, we once again found ourselves ‘kidnapped’ by a tuk tuk driver who wouldn’t take no for an answer. We said we only wanted to go to the Vidyadhar Garden, but as soon as he realised that we also wanted to visit the Amber Palace, that was it – he insisted on staying with us all day, and taking us on a few detours as well. 

The Vidyadhar Garden was in a striking setting, just outside Jaipur city in the valley of a rocky ravine. The garden is split into two parts, a smaller upper garden which at its head has a large ornate pavilion (housing a posh restraint). In front of this a pool with fountains (which sadly was empty and not running) would have led via a rill down the centre of the garden, around another open sided pavilion and into a lower pool (that did have water in it).

The second part of the garden was on the other side of a small car park. It was a similar arrangement following a central axis from one fountain pool via a rill to a lower fountain pool. The plants were sparse with just nearly clipped hedges, a few trees and grass lawns which they must water a lot to keep them green. It was a shame the fountains weren’t running as I’m sure that’s what brings the garden to life.

From Vidyadhar Garden, our hostage keeper – I mean tuk tuk driver, took us to the Amber Fort. It’s an enormous place, even though they only let tourists around part of it. The bit I really wanted to see was the ‘saffron garden’, that occupies its own island beneath the fort. It was a shame visitors weren’t allowed into the garden, but we had great views looking down on it from the fort – and they even had the fountains on! There was also a nice Islamic carpet garden inside the fort (sadly without its fountain working).

From the Amber Fort we really just wanted to go back to our apartment, but our driver had other plans. He insisted on taking us to a fabric block printing workshop just a little off the route home. We were shown round by the owner and saw fabric block printing in progress. Of course next we were ushered into the shop next where they tried to sell us block printed quilt covers, cushion covers, scarfs and shawls. I was very nearly taken by a made to measure shirt (for £20!) that they says they could make up in two hours and deliver to our hotel that evening. If it wasn’t for Mike not being ‘bothered’ by my choice of fabric I might have gone for it. Instead I resisted and instead purchased a souvenir scarf for someone. 

As we left the showroom we went to put on our shoes (it is customary to remove shoes when entering a building in India). I put my sandals on and the I heard Mike say ‘where’s my shoes’. While we had been perusing the wares, it appeared someone had taken a fancy to Mike’s shoes. A flurry of activity pursued as the owner rushed off to see if someone had inadvertently taken Mike’s shoes by mistake. I looked down at the remaining shoes and said ‘aren’t those trainers yours?’. He was adamant they were not. I looked at the trainers and thought, that’s odd, that’s how I tie my trainers. Yes, after claiming his shoes had been stolen, it was in fact Mike who was the shoe thief. After examining some of the photos taken throughout the day, Mike had been wearing my shoes all day and he hadn’t even noticed – even though they are a size bigger than his. Someone needs to go to spec-savers!

I can’t say it was the most relaxing night’s sleep, the bed was comfy enough but I woke up early worrying about breakfast. The thought of Mike without his morning coffee was not something I wanted to contemplate. Thankfully I had a ‘save the day’ thought. I remembered the app I’d used in Bengaluru to order the vegan cake and I thought, I wonder if that would work here.

Being ‘old’ and someone who tries to live a ‘principled’ life, I’m not one who uses the likes of Amazon or ‘uber eats’ or other similar fast food delivery apps back at home. I’m always concerned that the reason they are so cheap and so fast is that someone somewhere in the chain is being horribly exploited. That’s my main reason for avoiding them – but this situation was an emergency!

I logged into ‘Swiggy’ and searched groceries. I managed to add soya milk, jam, bread, cornflakes and Special K to my basket. I ordered two cereals as at 6.30am I was laying there trying to decide how many grams were in a regular cereal box. I had visions of one fun sized box of cornflakes between two hungry vegans. I thought better to be safe than sorry. I checked out only to be told the transaction had failed. 

I soon realised this was because the shop where the items would come from wasn’t open yet. I waited a while until it was, it worked! I watched the delivery time tick down 20 min, 15, 10, 8 etc. when it got to 4 I wandered out onto the street to wait. Sure enough a moped turned up with my bag of vegan goodies. I return to Mike who was still in bed to show him my swag – he was impressed (I’m sure this is one of the reasons he married me!). Boosted by my success in securing vegan breakfast (and my abandoning of all my usual principles) I moved onto a hunt for coffee. Twenty minutes later we’re supping on two Starbucks’ Americano coffees with warm soya milk! 

Please be assured my moral principles will return when I get back to the UK, it’ll be back to the local Co-op for last minute food emergencies then!

Wednesday 05 February

Jaipur

Today is my sister’s birthday – happy birthday Lisa! 

We were up early and packed as we’re going to Jaipur today. It’s another longish train journey (six hours). There weren’t any tuk tuks outside the hotel, so we had a nice short walk through the quiet old town until we found one. Some of the shops were just opening and some people were sweeping the street in front of their shop. Lots of dogs were wandering about, probably enjoying this part of the day with no traffic on the streets.

At Uidapur station we couldn’t find our carriage and walked the length of the giant platform before someone told us that our train to Jaipur was on a different platform! Once on board our train was lovely – modern and comfortable with at table service in first class!

We arrived in Jaipur at 1400 – rather fatigued and as seems to be the norm we (mostly Matthew, it has to be said) were accosted by tuk tuk and taxi drivers. There’s a metro in Jaipur – there’s a stop by the railway station and our hotel is very near a metro station, too – so Matthew tried to make it clear that we didn’t need a tuk tuk. One particular driver wasn’t having it and promised to match the metro fare (very unlikely) and wouldn’t leave Matthew alone. Matthew was getting exasperated and used his assertive, firm-but-fair voice – but that made things worse … he was accused of not being polite and was lectured on the importance of civility in India. The only way we could escape was to retreat back into the station. Poor Matthew  – he’s the kindest, sweetest man – is never rude, so for him to be told that was horrible.

We found another route to the metro station by walking down the (very long) platform and made our way to our hotel – not really a hotel as such, a small palatial house – a bit like an Airbnb (without the breakfast!). It’s extraordinary – right by the (absolutely enormous) bazaar and very extravagantly decorated.

On one we’d settled in we went to explore around – our guidebook has a suggested walk around Jaipur, we are staying on the route so we thought we should do it. The guidebook shows the the lovely pink buildings that Jaipur is famed for and wide streets. The guidebook doesn’t show the crazy traffic or give any sense of incessant deafening noise of vehicle horns. It’s quite overwhelming – add in the hundreds of little shops spilling out into the street, thousands of people, almost every other shopkeeper inviting us to look at their wares, stray dogs and street monkey – it was all becoming too much. 

We really needed some peace and quiet. We were by the Hawa Mahal palace and decided to go in. The palace – built in 1799 on the orders of Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh- is famous for the five-floor (it’s very high!) rear elevation has 953 small windows and latticework openings (called Jharokhas) there to enable the women to look out without being seen and to keep the space cool.

It was lovely inside – much, much quieter than the street, with a big fountain in a square and lots of places to sit and relax – just what we needed. A couple of people asked us to be on their photographs! There was an arts festival taking place with musicians and puppeteers giving performances. All lovely.

From the top we could see the Amber Fort and the Jantar Mantar observatory – one of the oldest astronomical observatories built in 1734, it includes the world’s largest stone sundial – accurate to within 2 seconds – that’s absolutely incredible! I’m hoping to visit the observatory tomorrow.

We stayed in the Hawa Mahal palace to watch the sunset over the city and then headed back into the crazy streets outside.

A man in the street admired Matthew’s moustache (he gets this a lot!); he was an artist and with his younger friend were visiting temples to make copies of the wall art there – that they then sold. They accompanied us to a small Hindu temple on Gangori Bazaar Road, near the Choti Chaupar metro station – I can’t find its name on the map – it had two beautiful carved elephants up some steps at the entrance. We had a look around and they showed us some of their work – it was beautiful, but we weren’t in the market for religious paintings at that (or indeed any) moment. I’ve been quite disturbed by the contrast between the apparent spiritualism, and righteousness and animal-friendly tenets of Hindu faiths and the viciousness of Hindu nationalist politics in India.

So back to our own ‘palace’ and on our way we were accosted by a man who’d given us directions earlier – he has a jewellery workshop and store that he wanted us to see – we accompanied him, admired the fine  workmanship, but gently insisted that we didn’t want to buy anything ‘for our wives’!

After the calm and tranquility of Udaipur, then the very civilized train journey, the noise and chaos of Jaipur has hit us like a punch on the nose. No sooner had we stepped off the train then the tuk tuk drivers latched onto us touting for business. I knew the metro would take us from the station virtually to the door of our accommodation so I declined politely. They persisted, I declined again but this time more firmly. They tried Michael next, he also declined – but in a more chatty way, which resulted in them saying he was polite and I was rude. What a cheek!

Once we’d dodged the tuk tuk drivers and the building work (it seems every station in India is being rebuilt at the moment), we got to the metro and in just three stops reached Chotti Chaupar station, just down the road from our accommodation. It’s right in the middle of Tripolia Bazar – and what a bazaar! All along the street are small stalls selling everything from fabric to sweets, coffee and tea, clocks, metal boxes and all sorts of building materials. Back home in Bristol our local high street has an amazing ‘little Aladdin’s cave’ of a hardware shop called Lion Stores. It reminded me of there – but on steroids!

I’d booked another Haveli, but thought it was a small hotel – but it turns out we have the whole place. A big apartment with 24-hour staff just for us! There is a hallway, dining room, sitting area, kitchen and an enormous bathroom with two double beds and an en-suite bathroom. It’s decorated like a maharaja’s palace (I think they got the same person who does taxi cab roofs to do the ceiling here). Michael said looking at it was giving him a headache. I suggested he could sleep with an eye mask on.

The apartment is very clean and spacious, but it’s a little awkward having a manservant who jumps to his feet every-time we walk into the room. He also calls us Sir. I’ve tried asking him to say Matthew but to no avail. The location is certainly what you could call in the heart of things. I think we had an idea that Jaipur would be a bit more like a historic city such as Bath – but more pink! In reality it a throbbing, busy place, the traffic is intense and it is pretty grimy – if it were a Farrow and Ball paint colour you’d call it ‘smoked pink’ or perhaps Intense Salmon!

After we checked in and did a few laps around our bedroom, we decided to follow a walk suggested in our guide book that starts virtually outside our door. It took us through back streets of the bazaar, past exquisite (if slightly down at heel pink buildings). Past scores of extraordinary fabric shops (I resisted the temptation to buy), stores selling everything you could possibly want (with the exception of vegan food). We ended up at the Hawa Mahal.

The Hawa Mahal is known as the “palace of winds“. Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh built it palace in 1799. Hawa Mahal is considered to be unique as it has many small windows and balconies that seem like a honeycomb.

We joined the throngs taking pictures outside and then contemplated whether to pay the £2.20 entrance fee to go inside. Mike’s head was throbbing from the noise of Jaipur so we decided that at least going in would get us away from the street. We made the right call as, although it was busy, it was much calmer than the street. 

The palace is made up of many interlocking courtyards. The main one had a fountain at the centre, and it’s the first one we’ve seen working so far. It was attracting lots of attention from children delighted by its enormous spout of water that reached the height of the building before retreating into the pool. There were also couples and families posing for photos in front of it. 

We wandered around and climbed up to the front where we could get right behind the intricate honeycomb facade, peeping out onto the noisy street. We worked our way back down to the courtyard, realising that it would soon be sunset, and the best place to see that would be from the top. We raced back to the top just in time before the burning red sun disappeared below the mountains that surround Jaipur.

After we left Hawa Mahal we contemplated food. Thankfully we’d eaten well on the train, so weren’t very hungry, but as we are in a self-serve apartment, we needed something for breakfast. We contemplated getting a cab to a mall where there was a supermarket to stock up – but these were at least 20-25 minutes away. Instead we wandered around the bazaar seeking a store that might sell some cereal or soya milk. No joy. If we’d wanted metal pipes, locks, pots and pans, clocks, tea, nuts, ginger, chillies, detergent, cooking oil in huge tins, bangles, jewellery or fabric we’d have been fine – but no vegan food.

We were then accosted by two men who having complimented me on my ‘very fine moustache’ were very keen to tell us about the delights of Jaipur (I’m not entirely convinced). They told us there was an Elephant Temple just along the road and escorted us there. They were both art students and were very keen to show us their etchings (obviously in the hope we might buy some). We made nice comments about their art but politely declined to purchase (Mike needs to hold onto the air in his suitcase). 

We wandered back to our apartment, unsuccessful in our efforts to find food. We were both a bit jaded (Mike especially who hates the noise and hooting of Indian streets). Accepting defeat we made ourselves a cup of green tea and took to one of our two massive beds. Maybe we’ll try the other bed tonight too!

Our first train journey on the overnight train from Bengaluru to Hospete Junction was like taking a trip back in time. That train had clearly been around for a while. It was a pretty basic affair, perfectly adequate (although perhaps not the loo!) with folding bunks, air conditioning and power points, but it had a feel of the 1970s about it.

Catching today’s 07.50 ‘Vande Bharat Express’ from Udaipur to Jaipur we’ve fast forwarded through at least 50 train years. This is very much the Indian Railways ‘state of the art’ train. The doors are automatic with glass sliding doors between carriages. The seats have masses of leg room – like business class on an aeroplane (our friend Dave Hobson would be ok), and if you want, the chairs do a clever little trick. At the push of a foot pedal they can be turned from the ‘airline style’ forward-facing pair of seats into a four set (two facing each other) – yes, they can be spun round to face the other way!

The carriage has electronic display screens announcing the next station and other useful info in different languages (including English). There are recorded announcements telling us everything we need to know. There’s one announcement saying that when the train enters a ‘neutral section’ the power to the chargers may be temporarily interrupted. I was slightly worried this was something to do with Indian Pakistan relationships, but fortunately not. I guess it means the train is a hybrid, and that some parts of the route are not electrified. It goes on to advise that if you have an Apple device chargers you will need to up plug and reconnect to the power. 

There’s even an onboard ‘captive WiFi’ entertainment system – although captive seems to mean no-WiFi. There’s a choice of Telugu, Hindi, Tamil and English TV shows and music. There’s even some movies, however the English selection is somewhat limited, and I’m intrigued to find out who selected them. You’ve a choice of ‘The Child Bride’ (1938), ‘20,000 Leagues Under the Sea’ (1954), or ‘Attack from Space’ (1964)! While the train might have entered the twenty first century, the movie offerings haven’t!

I’ve already mentioned in our blog that Indian trains are wide (five chairs in a row not four like in the UK) – but it’s very noticeable on this new train. The carriage feels very airy with the neutral colour palette and LED lighting. There’s large glass shelf luggage racks overhead and each seat has an individual spotlight. The seat tables that are usually on the back of the chair are like airline style on this one and fold out from a little compartment between the chairs.

The best bit is the lavatory. After some pretty grim train loos, these are exemplary. There are both ‘Indian settle’ (thank you, but no) and ‘western style’ conveniences. They are clean, and – as announced on the electronic replays – have ‘bio-flush mechanisms’, so please don’t put anything you shouldn’t down them. They even have hand dryers (the first train we’ve been on to have them), so no need to wipe wet hands on our trousers.

As we’re travelling ‘aunty style’ (first class), on this train we’re waited on by a team of young stewards wearing near navy and pale blue outfits with a natty orange trim. We’ve already been served breakfast and although it’s only 11.30, they’ve started dishing up lunch already. It’s a two course affair, starting with a tomato chatpata soup (tomato soup with a spicy after bite). 

This was followed by a vegetable curry, rice, dhal and chapatti. I’m not sure we’ll need any dinner after all this food! In fact by the time we get into Jaipur (one more stop), we’ll probably need an afternoon snooze to let lunch settle!   

Tuesday 04 February

Uidapur

We’re staying in a Heritage Hotel in Uidapur – it’s the Amet Haveli, stunning rooms with views over glorious Lake Pichola (although we had a cheaper one with an internal courtyard view).

Our hotel in Uidapur is beautiful – a converted palace by the lake. The doors are a quite small with a lovely decorative door arch – poor Matthew cut his head on our first morning – there was blood everywhere!

At breakfast there was no dairy-free milk, but they asked us to wait for 10 minutes while they sent someone to fetch some. That’s my kind of place!

After breakfast we explored around the hotel and then walked through the old city to the Uidapur City Palace. Begun in 1559 and built over the next 400 years, the City Palace is enormous – and half of it is closed to visitors! Many parts of India were princely states in the British empire – but after independence in 1947 they merged with the newly independent state. 

From the City Palace we took  boat trip to Jagmandir Island Palace. Being in the boat was sublime – cool by the water and quiet. The gardens were lovely, although it was a shame that the fountains weren’t running.

After we led the City Palace we were heading to lunch at a place on Matthew’s spreadsheet – but we’d not walked very far when we saw a sign for a restaurant that offered vegan options! We thought we should give it a try and we weren’t disappointed: it was called Millets – thalli for Mike and lemon millet for Matthew. 

We walked back to our hotel for a snooze then went up to the roof for a nice view of the sunset over Pichola Lake.

In the evening we wandered around the old town – winding streets full of brightly lit shops, cafes, restaurants, temples stray dogs, cows and people. There was a cafe listed in Happy Cow (our vegan app) that we wanted to try. After a little bit of doubling back on ourselves, we eventually found it in the roof of an apartment building. It was lovely – with fantastic views. 

Uidapur was worth the long journey to get here.

As British, when first experiencing Indian traffic, it’s a shock to the system. We have been on edge almost all the time, anticipating an imminent crash to happen in front of our eyes. We’re wondering ‘don’t they have any rules of the road?’ and ‘what are there road casualty figures like?’ (best not to check). Strangely after a few weeks, we have become more acclimatised to it – I mean it’s still terrifying, but it’s just a kind of the new normal! 

When we first attempted to cross the road in India, we stood at the edge of the road for ages waiting (sometimes for a long time) until what we considered a big enough gap in the traffic to appear, safe enough for us to cross. Now, two weeks in, I find myself stepping out into moving traffic, either confident or just plan crazy in the belief that nothing will hit me, even though it looks like they will. Fingers crossed, so far, I’m still alive!

In addition to taking a few death defying tuk tuk rides, we have also been in a few cabs. They are also rather scary as the drivers weave across lanes of moving traffic, undertake, drive in the wrong side of the road and hoot their horns as if it were going out of fashion. If watching the traffic chaos is too much, we can a) close our eyes or b) look up. I would recommend option b as there’s often a treat in store.

There seams to be a thing in Indian taxis that the ceilings of the cabs are covered in decorative patterns – such attention to detail on a surface that most people will never look at. Just think, out there somewhere there’s a textile designer whose job it is to prettify the ceilings of Indian cabs – what a job!

It’s been a brief but lovely visit to Udaipur, it was definitely worth the long train ride (and a bit of a detour) to get here. India is full of so many contrasts. We go from days that are intense, busy, full of noise and activity, to more peaceful, calm, and restful – Uidapur has largely been like that. Being beside the lake has been lovely – it’s true what they say, ‘life is better by water’.

After a day of sightseeing we had a little rest before we went up to the hotel’s rooftop restaurant terrace to watch the sun set over Lake Pichola – it was beautiful.

Later we went for an evening stroll to a little lakeside park surrounding a small temple just next to the hotel to watch the lights of the palaces reflected in the lake. It was a very pretty sight. Just as we got back to our hotel someone put a fireworks display on just for us! We literally stepped outside our hotel room to watch it. After a good nights sleep, we are ready for our next (not such a long) train journey to Jaipur – the pink city. 

Our boat trip from the City Palace to Jagmadir Island Palace took us right past our hotel. This is where we were eating our breakfast this morning!

Monday 03 February

Mumbai – Jaipur

Today was the day of almost continuous long train journeys – I reckon that we travelled around 1,000 miles in 26 hours, so not a lot else to report.

We left Mumbai at 23:10 on the overnight sleeper to Jaipur. Our first journey was around 1200km / 750 miles. Taking 18 hours. We had a double cabin and were served breakfast, a mid morning snack and lunch on the train. All welcome (we’d brought supplies, too, so we weren’t going to be hungry!). 

At Jaipur we had about half an hour to change for the 14:10 Uidapur train – a further 400 km / 250 miles. Taking 8 hours. No cabin this time – just comfortable reclining seats. Lots of food sellers walking briskly through the train – selling coffee, chai, ice cream, chocolate and sandwiches. 

The trains were comfortable and we caught up with the Archers, listened to some music and podcasts, read, I watched some Severance while Matthew watched a documentary about Dolly Parton (!). We both watched a drama based on life of Hattie Jacques – a British comedian in the 1960s and 1970s. 

We passed through beautiful landscapes and saw our first camels out of the window.

We have most certainly arrived in Best Exotic Marigold Hotel territory. The Amet Haveli Herritage Hotel is an extraordinary beautiful rambling old palace. The place is dotted with small courtyard gardens, inviting stairways, rooftop terrace, and exquisite colonnaded verandas. It’s also pretty well appointed with older British tourists (we should fit right in!). From my bedroom window seat overlooking the courtyard I’ve already spotted a few women in the style of the characters played by Maggie Smiths (god rest her soul), Judi Dench and Celia Imrie.

Our breakfast was on a charming garden terrace under the shade of a large tree with a vista over lake Pichola. I think we’re definitely paying for the view and the setting as the breakfast was so so. They didn’t have soya milk, but to their credit a boy was dispatched and about 20 minutes later he returned with soya milk that he’d purchased from a nearby store. The coffee was yuk – instant – but I think I can forgive them as the magic of the buildings and surroundings here certainly seeps into you.

After breakfast we wandered around a bit, exploring the terraces and stairways, snapping pictures of the lovely views that they framed. We’re off to explore the City Palace (which we can see across the water from our hotel) and then take a boat trip on the lake. Today will be a lovely relaxing antidote to the mega train journey of yesterday.

It was dark when we arrived in Udaipur so we couldn’t make much out from our speeding tuk tuk, but we as we drew up outside the hotel, even in the dark we could tell it was a bit special. As we walked through the gate of this old palace we entered a courtyard. The main building rose up on one side, a white facade with beautifully decorative windows and balconies. Around the courtyard were some lower buildings and a decorative colonnade that opened into a garden. In the centre of the courtyard a fountain was running and lights lit up the space, it was magical.

After we’d checked in the porters carried our bags (we’re still not really used to this) across the courtyard and up some steps guarded by two carved elephants to a decorative wooden door – this was our room. A large white cube space with high ceilings and stone cauble holding up a roof beam. Through a decorative arch we enter the bathroom. Around the room there are carved recesses in the wall and at the centre sits a large bed with a carved wooden frame. A lovely window seat in a window juts out into the courtyard. When we woke this morning the sun was shining through the stained glass of this window. We’re only here for two nights but we shall sleep like princes while we are.

Arriving at Udaipur, it was clear that we’d travelled a lot further north. It’s not cold, but it’s certainly cooler than it has been – and we even felt a drop of rain as we stepped off the train. It’s about 18 degrees now (at 23:00) but is forecast to be 27 tomorrow, so when I say cooler it’s all relative to the 30+ degrees we’ve had in Mumbai.

The train station was about 7km from our hotel, which is in an old palace on the shore of lake Pichola. As our hotel is in the old town, the roads are too narrow for taxis, so there was only one thing for it – a tuk tuk. There were plenty to choose from at the station so we were soon loaded up and on our way for another death defying journeys.

We’ve had a few tuk tuk rides in India now – in Mysuru and Mumbai, and quite frankly they are mad. It’s like riding in an open sided Robin Reliant three wheeler with no seat belts and most of the drivers behaving as though they have an urgent death wish! Fortunately we navigated the narrow streets of the old town and got to our hotel safely, I recorded part of our journey for posterity.

The trains we’ve travelled on in India have been enormous, especially when we are used to only around eight carriages on average in the UK. Here there must be 20+ carriages with all different classes. It does make knowing where to board a bit of a challenge. On most stations they have these very handy electronic screens which say what the train number is, and then which carriage will be stopping at that point on the (very long) platform.

Today we had to change trains and only had a half hour turnaround which made me a bit anxious in case the train ran late. The overnight train from Mumbai arrived bang on time in Jaipur. As soon as we stepped off I was being hassled by men wanting to offer me tuk tuks. I explained I was catching another train, then they wanted to help me with my bags. I had to say no thank you very firmly before they left us alone.

We worked out what platform we needed to be on and arrived there just in time for our next train to pull in early. Unfortunately the screens telling us which carriage would stop where weren’t working. I parked Mike with the bags and walked all the way to one end of the platform to find our carriage, only to realise ours was at the other end. Thankfully because it was early there was plenty of time.

The last part of today’s very long train journey is in a seated carriage. Indian trains are wider than UK ones so the seats are arranged in 2 on one side of the aisle and 3 on the other. We found our reserved seats and settled down. After having separate cabins for our other journeys, it felt very lovely being in a cabin with lots of other passengers. 

They don’t have a buffet car on the trains, but instead you have food and drinks sales people passing along the carriage carrying  baskets of food – crisps and snacks, chocolate, Indian food, pizza and drinks – tea, coffee, chai, fruit juices. We predicted the vegan offering would be poor so stocked up our supplies before boarding. We’re due in at Udaipur at 21.50, then have to get a taxi or tuk tuk to our hotel. It will be nice to get off the train, we’re both a bit jaded and look forward to reaching our lakeside hotel.

We’d been warned to expect to be hassled when we came to India. As two white European men we stand out a bit. If I’m honest, I’ve not found the beggars to be any worse here than in the UK. Not that seeing anyone beg is pleasant, but the part that is really hard is when it’s painfully thin small children begging. It’s gut wrenching.

Aside from from begging, there is often general hassle at railway stations. At most of the stations we’ve arrived at we have been immediately approached by people offering their tuk tuk, taxi, hotel or a tour guide services. Unusually, it seems to be me they are drawn to. I thought that with Michael being blond, he’d be the one who’d get the attention – but it appears I have a feature that draws people to me. 

My moustache has been much commented on. I’ve lost count of the times that, after they have finished badgering me, they sign off with ‘very fine moustache Sir’ or ‘Sir, I very much like your moustache’.  It’s very nice to receive such compliments, not least because there are no shortage of fine moustaches here in India.

I’ve read that for generations of Indian men, a moustache has been a must. Throughout history, it was thought that the more fabulous your facial hair was, the more masculine you were (that’s me, I’m so butch!). Before the eighteenth century only high caste men were allowed to keep moustaches. So, moustaches were seen as a symbol of power. 

Back home my brothers make sarcastic comments about my moustache – well listen up brothers, here, my facial hair makes me ‘cool’ and ‘powerful’, so take some advice from me – go with the mo bro.

Sunday 02 February

Mumbai

Our second day in Mumbai – and the city has really delivered! We both went out running at 07:30 – after 2.5 miles, Matthew headed back into the hotel, I wanted to push up my miles from my last run if I could, so I aimed for 8 miles … and pleased that I managed 9, although my foot was really sore towards the end. While I was running I noticed a man with Quayside written on his shirt – I caught him up and asked him which quayside his shirt referred to – he said “There is only one!” Ha, ha – he was from Newcastle – my home town! He lives in Gosforth, went to Leeds University, his son lives in Tynemouth. Small world. I asked him what he was doing running about in Mumbai … he was with the English cricket squad – for the fifth and final Twenty20 international match England v India this evening. Also, the whole squad is staying in the same hotel as we are! Extraordinary!

When I got back to hotel I joined Matthew for breakfast and told him about my meeting. A few minutes later he said “There are tickets available. Shall we go?” Of course!! (Apologies, Vaishakh – not a test match, but that wasn’t available today!).

At 12:00 we met with Amrutha at Mumbai railway station. Amrutha is a friend of Bharath and Shubhi and is a museologist and academic curator particularly interested in documents. She also loves cats.

Amrutha has a deep knowledge and wonderful way of explaining the development and architecture in Mumbai. We walked around the old fort area and drank a lot of juice to keep cool! We spent quite a while in a lovely bookshop, too and the David Sassoon library.

We have some very long train journeys ahead, so we went to a little supermarket (part of Tesco!) and a whole food store for provisions.

When we arrived back in the hotel, we were a little surprised to see a cordon running from the entrance to the lifts – lots of people waiting with their phone cameras primed and security staff keeping everyone back. The England cricket team were about to walk out to the bus that was waiting outside to take them to tonight’s game. That was fun – a really nice atmosphere and a fairly pessimistic view among the assembled crowd of England’s prospects this evening.

Our match tickets had been couriered to the hotel – Matthew was sent backwards and forwards between different places to get them and rather typically they turned out to have been at the first place he’d gone to all along!

We walked to the Wankhede Stadium – the crowds were getting bigger and bigger and excitement was building. We could see the enormous floodlights lighting up the sky. We had some trouble getting in – some of the people in the hotel lobby who were going to the game told us that we wouldn’t be allowed in with any bags. So I left my bag at the hotel, taking only my wallet, small binoculars, my phone and the powerbank charger. I hadn’t spotted that Matthew had a small bag with him with his wallet, our passports, a small tube of sunscreen and a packet of wet-wipes (he rarely goes anywhere without them!). At the gates there were security searchers and I wasn’t allowed my binoculars or phone charger. The sunscreen and Matthew’s bag were also forbidden. Sigh. Arguing that I’d had my binoculars in UK cricket matches wasn’t impressing anyone. My ankle was pretty sore by now after a long day on my feet, so Matthew decided to run back and leave the banned items at our hotel then come back while I went in. Our hotel wasn’t too far, so he was back before the start of play.

The atmosphere in the stadium was brilliant – exciting. India have already won the five match series 3-1 … it would be nice if England could avoid a 4-1 defeat. There was some amazing cricket on display … unfortunately not much of that from the England side! England won the toss and chose to bowl first, India’s young batting superstar Abhishek Sharma played brilliantly, scoring 135 off 54 balls that included 13 sixes – the most by an India batter in T20s (no one else came anywhere close to Sharma’s score). It was both beautiful and painful to watch as an Englishman – and there was some fun, friendly banter from the Indian supporters around us as we celebrated the Indian fall of wickets then watched ours fall so quickly in dismay!

The scorecard is here and the match report is here (if you can bear it!).

The final indignity was our taxi to the Mumbai Central station. We came out of the stadium and started walking hurriedly back to our hotel to collect our bags – we were conscious that we we didn’t have a lot of time to get our 11:10 evening departures so we hailed a taxi. We said that we wanted to go to our hotel – it was about 1km to the hotel and then 6.5 km to the station – about 4½ miles altogether. The taxi driver said that it would cost ₹2,000 – that’s £20! I baulked and said “Whaaat? You’re joking right?” I said that we shouldn’t go – we could keep walking to the hotel (it wasn’t far, we could see it) and pick up a taxi to the station from there. Matthew was already putting our bags in the back of the taxi and the road was crowded with people coming out of the stadium – I think Matthew was worried that we might not get another taxi and that missing the train would be disastrous. I got in, but I was fuming. The taxi driver drove like a maniac through the heavy traffic, too, which didn’t help. When we arrived at Mumbai central Matthew dived out of the taxi leaving me to pay – the driver then even asked for another ₹500! I said absolutely not and climbed out!

We walked into the station both a little stressed and tense. I said I wish you’d listened to me back then. ‘Let’s not have a row about it’ was the reply. 

Mumbai Central was lovely – airy with big departure boards. On the train, there were people in our cabin who insisted that they were in the right room – we went to find inspector who looked up our reservation and told us we were in a different cabin to the one printed on our ticket – go figure! The train is newer and really nice. We also get breakfast and lunch tomorrow!

As soon as we stepped onto our overnight train to Jaipur (where we’ll change for (Udaipur), we could tell the carriage was a bit more modern than the previous ones we’ve travelled on. Gone was the heavily patterned decor, replaced with a muted pale blue palette. After a small confusion with cabins (they’d changed our numbers since I looked last night) we were pleased to find we were once again in a two-person couchette, so no sharing.

We were both tired after cramming so much into our two days in Mumbai so we pretty much crashed out and slept through until about 7am. When we boarded last night we were surprised to receive a knock on the door from a young boy (he’s a man, but looks like a boy!) in railway uniform enquiring as to whether we wanted veg or non veg breakfast and dinner. We hadn’t had any meals on our previous overnight trips, in fact we’d stocked up on snacks to keep us going on our long train journeys today (14.5 hours then 7.5hours).

Shortly after we’d woken, the knock on the door came and the steward asked if we’d like tea, we asked if he had black coffee – and it was duly delivered. This was followed by the breakfast tray – fruit, juice, bread, jam, dhal and a sort of vegetable porridge. We will wait and see what comes with lunch, but this train journey is turning out to be by far our most civilised one so far with our own little steward delivering cabin service. 

We realised yesterday that there was an India vs England Twenty20 match happening in Mumbai that evening. There were lots of noticeable England fans staying in our hotel (the Barmy Army as they are known back home). At breakfast I had even overheard one of them say something that implied the England team were staying in our hotel.

I’m perfectly happy to admit that I’m not a sports fan. I don’t follow any teams or participate, but Michael is very keen on cricket. Being a supportive husband, I have escorted him to a few test matches before (where I was laughed at by him for reading a garden magazine rather than watch the match with more interest). I thought that seeing a cricket match in India was something he’d really enjoy, so we decided we’d try and buy some tickets. It didn’t start until 7pm so we would have time to watch it before we caught a taxi to catch our 11.10pm overnight train.

As with everything else in India, you had to buy the tickets online. I got the site up and showed Mike the plan of the stadium with the available tickets as I wouldn’t know where the best seats to watch the game would be. He indicated which block he preferred, then I looked at the tickets. That’ll be £400 each!!! Yes £ not Rupees! I suggested a cheaper alternative, which we agreed on. Tickets were purchased and they were to be couriered to the hotel later that day. Strange that having been forced to buy them online, they weren’t sent as e-tickets, but there you go.

When we returned to the hotel later that day it was clear something (or someone) was a foot. They had cordoned off part of the lobby and crowds were gathered behind the tape, phones clutched in hands ready to catch a photo. Sure enough, the rumour turned out to be true. The England cricket team were in our hotel. It was a bit of a wait but eventually they emerged from the lift to board their coach to the ground (which was only a 15 minute walk from the hotel). I took some picture but I really have no idea who any of them are. There were an American couple stood next to me and there conversation could have summed up me. One said ‘well I guess they must be famous’ and the other replied ‘yep, and they do look quite sporty’.

Tracking down our ticket delivery turned into a faff. Reception said they weren’t there, they sent me to the business centre on the 34th floor. The business centre didn’t have them, eventually they were tracked down to the bell desk in the lobby. Tickets in hand we set off to walk to the stadium. Getting in also turned into a faff – I’m sure Michael will write more on that, so I’ll just say I had to return to the hotel to deposit our ‘contraband’ items. I then had to return to the stadium – I was certainly getting my steps in.

Finally inside the stadium I got to experience the atmosphere of an Indian cricket match. Back in the UK my experience of cricket has generally been test matches – a much more sedate business; players in whites, polite crowds, all very English. Not here, it was raucous. The crowds were loud and euphoric. It felt like a party atmosphere – particularly for the Indians after they’d thrashed England. I messaged my brother back in the UK to see if he was watching the match on tv as he likes cricket, too – he was. He messaged back to say he’d seen us flash up on the screen! I have yet to see photographic proof of this yet – but if it’s true, how cool is that! I don’t think I’ll become a regular, but I’m glad we got to experience it – and Michael was a very happy boy (in spite of the result).

For the past few years I have set myself the challenge of running every day in January – it’s called RED January. It started as a campaign to raise awareness of mental health. January in the UK is notoriously dark, cold and miserable – all things that have a negative impact on a lot of people’s mental health. Doing physical activity is a good way to tackle this and improve mental health.

I knew participating in RED this year was going to be a challenge, with half of it taking place in the UK and the other half while we travelled around India. With a combination of treadmills in hotel gyms, some very short runs and some with stunning backdrops I almost managed to run every day. It was the final day that thwarted me. I knew it would be a difficult as we’d be on a 15+ hour train journey on 31 January. So there was no run that day – but I did do a long walk around the world heritage site at Hampi – which sort of counts. 

To make RED more accessible it’s been expanded to include doing any physical activity in January, so it could be a walk, swim, cycle ride, yoga etc. it’s a great challenge and the real challenge comes next, which it to try and keep up the physical activity in February – but maybe not every day!

Saturday 01 February

Mumbai

Our train from Hosapete arrived in Mumbai later than expected, Matthew had booked last night in the Trident hotel, Mumbai even though we were going to be on the train so that we could check in as soon as we arrived. 

We had a quick look around the station – CSMT (Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminal), formerly Victoria – completed in 1887.

We headed to our hotel to freshen up, sort out laundry for hotel to wash and then go down for breakfast.

After breakfast we wandered along Marine Drive then headed to the museum. We passed through Oval park – where lots of people were playing cricket … I was settling in to watch (I love cricket),  but Matthew was becoming impatient. 

We passed a big art festival near the university and learned that today was Mumbai Pride! And the annual march was this afternoon at 3! We decided that we had to go to that!

The museum was lovely and we particularly liked the textile gallery where we were able to do a little bit of fabric printing.

We took a cab to near the start of the pride march and started looking for it – luckily we found it quite quickly – small but rather wonderful. Matthew wrote a separate blog about that. 

While we were planning our trip, Matthew said that he wanted to see if we could make a reservation at Mumbai’s poshest 5-star luxury hotel – the Taj Mahal Palace, which is beside the Gateway of India. The ‘Taj’ opened in 1903. The hotel was commissioned by  the industrialist Jamshedji Tata – who founded the Tata company. It is said that he decided to build a luxury hotel in Bombay after he was refused entry to Watson’s Hotel in the grounds of his ethnicity. The Taj Mahal was also one of a number of hotels attacked in November 2008 by a terrorist group – 167 people were killed, 31 at the Taj. There was significant damage to the hotel too – the roof was destroyed by fire. The Taj has been restored and is now a desirable destination. 

Matthew emailed the hotel a few months ago to ask if vegan afternoon tea was available. Slightly to our surprise we had an immediate response – less surprising was the answer … they were passing our question on to the chef! I thought bloody hell – if you’re a chef, then you say of course I can prepare a vegan afternoon tea. Anyway, we didn’t get a further response until just before we left – an email with a vegan afternoon tea menu attached. Excellent, we could book that.

Well, the best laid plans often go awry… when we arrived at the Trident Hotel this morning we needed to send some of our clothes to be laundered. I chatted with Matthew about including my trousers, which needed washing and wearing my shorts today, which were clean. He thought that would be ok and so I wore my shorts. After the pride march we hailed a cab to take us to Taj Mahal. We had a look at India Gate and then went in to the hotel.

A sign outside the dining room door said ‘formal attire only’ and Matthew asked a waiter if I could go in wearing shorts. I could not! So that was that.

All was not lost, however, Matthew is his father’s son and is often very well organised and has backup plans for these sorts of eventualities (just like his dad used to do with a notepad). There exists an epic spreadsheet with several tabs – rows are days on our trip and columns include things like where we’re staying, if it’s booked, how booked, booking reference number, if it’s paid or to pay, hotel website, sites to visit in that place, any potential gardens or horticultural highlights nearby and additional optional things to do in that place. If we’re travelling, which train, is it booked, is it paid for, which carriage, which seat … you get the idea ! He’s been poring over this spreadsheet most evenings for weeks.

One of the columns in Matthew’s contains the fruits of his searches for vegan food providers in every place – so in Mumbai the closest one to where we were at the Taj was called Earth Cafe – we headed there and they had a lovely menu … I could hardly believe that it was all vegan – and I kept asking the staff to reassure me. For some reason, Matthew has been wanting pizza for the last few days – so pizza it was. Yum! 

We walked back to the hotel for tea and biscuits. Yum yum!

When we were staying in Marari Beach in Kerela (at the ‘Colonial Club’ as Mike called it) one of the families he chatted to were ending their holiday in Marari after having started in the north (we’re doing the reverse). They warned us to be wary of the loos as we ventured north, they told us they were better in the south. 

Our overnight train journeys started our preparations – and induced a serious case of leg crossing in me because I was reluctant to use the squat-style hole in the floor toilet. However, arriving at the Trident Hotel in Mumbai, we have been treated to one of the poshest bathrooms I think I’ve ever used. I’m familiar with the notion of an open plan kitchen – but our room has a sort of open plan bathroom. Just a huge wall of glass divides the bed from the shower – so someone could sit on the bed and watch someone else in the shower – and worse, beyond to the lavatory! But fear not, if privacy is required, then at the touch of a switch a blind sandwiched inside the glass wall descends. 

Then there is more to the loo than meets the eye. I don’t often use a loo where there are instructions on the inside of the loo seat. After doing the necessaries there’s a little silver handle at the back of the seat that can be used – but it’s important to have read the instructions first, because if you haven’t, you might be somewhat taken aback when the built-in water feature sends a gentle jet of liquid up your backside! We’ve come from a one hole loo to a hole in one in less than 24 hours!

When I was planning this trip, Mumbai really wasn’t high on my list of places to visit. I’d seen a couple of episodes of the TV series ‘City of Dreams’, which is about Mumbai, and it looked a bit busy, noisy and brash. The reason it ended up on our itinerary was because it was a logical stopping-off point on our way from south to north. Also, the train connections were good – so I pencilled in a one night stop-over.

Mumbai has turned out to be a real delight. First there was the unexpected gay pride march, then, this afternoon we found our jaws dropping as we wandered around the neighbourhood close to our hotel. We walked past block after block of amazing art-deco buildings. I had absolutely no idea that Mumbai is the Indian equivalent of Miami Beach, Florida.

The area is called Churchgate and clearly it was the des-res neighbourhood in the 1930s. Some of the buildings were looking a little  tired by now, but in a way the neglect may well have saved them from being altered too much. We could have been walking around the set of a Poirot episode! I don’t know what the locals thought of two British guys gawping at their apartments, but they were truly splendid – and we loved it. Our walk was concluded with dinner at the fabulous vegan Earth Cafe – the food there was delicious.

When we disembarked from our train this morning, we really had no idea that the day was going to turn out the way it has (and in a very nice way). After freshening up at the hotel and going to visit the nearby city museum, we found out by absolute chance that today was the end of Mumbai’s two week Gay Pride Festival and that it culminated today with a pride march. What are the chances of that? We’re only in Mumbai for two days, and one of them is the day of the pride march. It started at 3pm, so we just had time to jump in a cab and get near to the start point – arriving just in time to join the march. We spotted two women holding Great Britain heart placards – and we went to introduce ourselves. They’ve lived in Mumbai for two years now and they were the first women in Cambridge to officially register as co-parents of their child.

The pride march wasn’t huge – just a few thousand marchers, but the atmosphere was wonderful, diverse and inclusive. In a world where many dark things are happening to LGBTQ+ and other minority communities (right now in the USA of all places), it was wonderful to walk in solidarity with Mumbai’s Indian LGBTQ+ community. We met and talked to some wonderful people on the march, and at the end we even found the gay, feminist, animal loving vegans from the campaign group PETA – we certainly found our tribe in Mumbai!

Even though the train was over an hour late, we still arrived very early in Mumbai at around 6.30am. It meant that once we’d checked into our (very posh) hotel, and freshened up, we could go for breakfast. There was a vast selection of Indian and other world foods on offer. I’m not sure I would ever get used to the cooked Indian breakfast every day, so I was happy with cereals, breads and fruit.

Among the range of jams and honeys I spotted a much welcome friend – my mate Marmite! I haven’t missed much on the holiday (apart from the dogs) but I have craved for a bit of Marmite on toast. There was a selection of breads and a toaster, so the only thing missing was some dairy-free margarine. Given that the range of breakfast offerings was pretty good for vegans and included soya, oat and coconut milk, I thought they must have some margarine somewhere. I asked our lovely waitress, but she was a bit flummoxed as I tried to explain margarine or dairy free butter, she called a colleague. I went through the same explanation but he didn’t know what the strange and unusual food type I was asking for either. Off he went to consult the chef. A short while later a third waiter came to say they had soya, oat and coconut milk! Fast on his heals was waiter number three who apologised but said they did not have any dairy free spread – but asked if we were here tomorrow. I confirmed we would be, and he said they would do their best to see if they could get some for tomorrow. Dear readers – stay tuned to see if I have my Marmite on toast (with vegan spread) fix tomorrow!

Friday 31 January

Hampi

It’s curious looking back on today – our visit to Hampi almost didn’t happen. We weren’t initially planning to go to Hampi, but when I realised that our route from Bengaluru to Mumbai would take us fairly close, I pushed for Hampi’s inclusion. It required quite a bit of rejigging of Matthew’s planned schedule, but I’m very glad that we went – it’s an extraordinary, enormous set of ruins from a great  Hindu civilisation. 

Hampi is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Extensive remains of a fortified city that was the grand capital of the Vijayanagara empire from 1336. The city was the world’s second largest after Beijing at the time and it had religious, royal and commercial areas. The Vijayanagara empire was defeated by a coalition of Muslim armies in 1565 after which Hampi was ruined and abandoned. 

Hampi is about 13 kilometres (8.1 miles) from Hosapete. The train arrived at 07:00 and our onward train to Mumbai was scheduled to leave Hosapete at 13:40 taking us overnight to arrive in Mumbai at 6am. I knew that just a morning in Hampi wouldn’t do it justice and I knew that we’d only get to see a fraction of the place, but that would be better than nothing.

Our overnight journey to Hosapete was tiring – it was our first sleeper train in India and we had a shared cabin with two others. Our travel companions were getting off in the middle of the night. Neither of us slept well, and we arrived in Hosapete feeling very tired. 

We didn’t want to be burdened with our bags on our visit to Hampi, so we had to search (quite hard) for the left luggage room that we knew from guidebook was at the station in Hosapete. Once found, inevitable forms and passports and payments needed to be made.

Outside Hosapete a tuktuk driver was keen to take us to Hampi and he also wanted to drive us around some of the major sites (which are spread over 16 square miles), but neither of us were really in the mood for tearing about in a tuktuk and trying to take too much in, so I asked him to just take us to the site and we’d make our own decisions about what to see.

We were dropped off by the Virupaksha Hindu temple, which predates the rest of the city includes a monastery and remained an active Hindu pilgrimage site after the city was destroyed and abandoned. It was beautiful and we could hear constant singing from the temple complex as we walked up an adjacent granite hill and explored the ruins.

It was still early and there was hardly anyone else around – just some young pilgrims, all dressed in deep red and a small group of French tourists. 

We found some benches at Sunset Pont at the top of hill and ate some breakfast – that was magical – we had wonderful views of surrounding mountains, the soft singing from the temple, the exciting chatter of the young pilgrims … and a troop of monkeys realised that we were eating and came to see what they could scavenge!

We made a plan to walk along the river Tungabhadra to the royal quarter  – I really wanted to see the unique chariot temple – carved in stone and made even more famous because it appears on the 50 rupees banknote.

On our way we say an interesting photographic exhibition – some prints from the mid 1850s when much of the site was overgrown compared with now.

We went to the Nandi – an enormous stone statue of the god in the form of a bull. We rested in the shade there and tried to take everything in. I feel some affection towards Nandi – ever since Vaishakh took us to the Bull temple in Bangaluru – Nandi always seems to me to be rather stately, patient and peaceful.

The walk along the river was lovely- with more and more extensive ruins and the Sri Yantrodharaka Hanuman temple – with beautiful carved elephants guarding the entrance. 

The Shri Achyutaraaya Swami temple with an enormous, but empty, theertham (tank near temple that is filled with holy water for priest to bathe in). 

Then on to see the thing I really came to see: the Shree Vijaya Vitthala temple and the surrounding structures. On our we met a young British man from Cambridge, called Tom. He was a sweet guy – on a three month sabbatical and travelling along – heading to Vietnam after India… what a great trip!

The Shree Vijaya Vitthala was more than I could hope for – it’s extraordinary that it was abandoned since so much remains. It was strange to think of this place – now so beautiful and quiet and think of how it might have been in its heyday crowded and full of noise and the colour. 

The tranquility was shattered by a couple of very loud Australian tourists – they had a guide and were asking him some really silly questions … it was obvious that they had no idea where they were or what they were seeing. I felt a little embarrassed to also be a White westerner near them. Time for us to move on. 

We had about an hour left and I talked to Matthew about what we could do next – we agreed that the Zanana enclosure – about 6km away with the Lotus Mahal, watch towers, guardhouse and elephant stables would be possible if we walked back to main road and tried to get a tuktuk. We found a driver who agreed to take us to the enclosure – wait for us and then drive us back to Hosapete railway station.

The Zanana enclosure was more extraordinary – I feel like I run out of superlatives when trying to describe Hampi. The photos don’t do it justice – the warm air, bright sunshine, cool breeze, sounds of the birds, sweet smells, friendly people … a place to spend time, but unfortunately we had to go.

Our tuktuk driver was crazy fast, weaving around cars, bikes, cattle-drawn carts and pedestrians- and often on the wrong side of the road – on our return journey. Matthew had to close his eyes. I hung on (no seatbelts!). The train was an hour late and there was a last minute change of platform that meant hundreds of people trudging over a bridge (no walking across the tracks here!). The train was enormous. Bars on the windows are to prevent monkeys climbing in by the way , nothing to do with crime … unless we count monkey business as a crime!

Our cabin to Mumbai was a two-berth. All felt very 1950s style, but perfectly comfortable. We’d brought plenty of supplies – so picnic dinner, watching some Monty Don garden tv on the iPad and then dig in for the rest of our 16 hours journey to Mumbai

Our return train from Hospete Junction was delayed, and to add to the fun they made a last minute platform change. We (and everyone else on the platform) had to haul our bags up and over the footbridge from platform one to platform two.

We found our carriage and cabin a bit easier this time – after last night’s confusion I now know what I’m looking for in terms of numbering. We were slightly relieved to see that we were in a couchette (a two person cabin), so no sharing tonight. Hopefully that will mean we’ll get some sleep before we arrive at 5am (assuming the train makes up time overnight) at Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus (formerly Victoria Terminus) in Mumbai. It’s an extraordinary gothic building which I’ve seen on tv. I’m excited to get to see it in person.

This first-class carriage is slightly better appointed than the first one we travelled in. Having the cabin to ourselves means we can lock the door overnight (Michael seems concerned that we could be robbed in the night – talking with too many Daily Mail readers, obviously), also this carriage has a nice European-style sit-down loo (hallelujah), although I did nearly flood it when I pulled rather than pushed the flush! The handle came right off and a spout of water shot out of the wall. I stuck it back on quickly – I don’t think any permanent damage was done.

Our couchette has an interesting decor which immediately made me think of former British PM Boris Johnson and his wife Carrie (formerly a Symonds – fortunately no relation). They caused a storm when they decorated a room in their Downing Street flat with some very expensive (£800+ a roll) hand printed Indian-inspired wallpaper. The walls and table of our couchette are decorated in an equally flamboyant pattern. Maybe Boris and Carrie had a sideline doing interiors for Indian railways. It wouldn’t surprise me, he seemed to have plenty of other jobs other than running the country when he was an MP.

The overnight train journey to Hospete was smooth, but after sleeping in beds for all of our time in India so far, trying to sleep in a bunk bed rocking from the movement of the train wasn’t easy. We arrived in Hospete Junction a little blury eyed and sleepy. We navigated the cloak room so we could leave our bags at the station and not have to carry them round Hampi. 

As soon as we arrived at Hospete we were accosted by a very persistent tuktuk driver who wanted us to hire him to take us round the Hampi site. In our bleary eyed state we found ourselves in the tuktuk, not quite kidnapped but not really fully consenting tourists. The driver planned to take us all over the Hampi site (it’s a very large site), thankfully Mike mustered the authority to take control and instructed the driver to drop us off at the main entrance to the Hampi ruins and said that we preferred to manage our own time in Hampi.

It was the right decision, as after the long and sleepless journey, being able to wander freely among the extraordinary ruins on our own was just what we needed. It was still early, about 8.30am, and the morning light was beautiful. There were very few people around. We sat on the top of the hill and ate our picnic breakfast. The monkeys were scrambling over the rocks and scouting the bins for their own breakfast. Mike had a slightly mushy banana in his bag so he threw it onto the rocks and watched as one lucky monkey enjoyed tucking in.

Hampi is a stunning place – one that wasn’t originally on our itinerary, I’m so glad we were advised to visit.