Yesterday evening. I deem it a fine joint, given that it’s the first I’ve rolled in a quarter century, but Guddu’s tone has a dismissive note I don’t entirely care for at so milestone a moment. On what criterion does it … Read More »
It’s tricky, negotiating a way down this baked and rutted track to a lake spied from the road. I have to calibrate. Too little power and I come a cropper as front wheel fails to steer round or over the ruts, pitching the machine sideways. … Read More »
How rude of me! I haven’t yet shown the view from my window. Here it is: After coffee and fruit I took myself down to a park, south of town and near the lake. First thing I happened upon … Read More »
Stuff to do! My first task, after coffee of course, is to get myself to the spice market a mile to the northeast of my den on Gangaur Ghat. I prefer to walk at this time of day, though some … Read More »
Shame that. Typical prey for these guys (wiki claims forty types worldwide if we include shags, though at what point a local variant gets its own Latin name is a matter of hot contention for those who care about such things) … Read More »
Disinclined to write, I wandered the ghats and streets at the northern end of Lake Pichola. Later I’ll dedicate a post to the lake, so have focused here on faces, mostly human. This woman could be a model in the … Read More »
Taken in the right amount, as when a few days ago I bought a mild bhang lassi from Jaisalmer’s Government Shop, this stuff is more like a low to medium strength acid trip than getting stoned, though the finest grass … Read More »
A few pictures from the last few days – on the streets in Udaipur in the south of the state and Jaisalmer, way across the Thar Desert to the west and north, close to the border with Pakistan. It’s … Read More »
Eight am on Saturday: the street porters of Old Delhi’s Chandni Chowk and Chawri are hard at it. Interstate trucks have driven through the night under loads they’d never get away with in the west: stacked to the sky, massive … Read More »
January 2nd – Jackie, Jasper and I head for Stoney Middleton, twelve miles from home. We park on the aptly named High Street, a few yards down its one-in-three incline from the entrance to what in the fifties had been a small … Read More »