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 »
Skiddaw from Keswick, mid morning on Thursday, December 29. Skiddaw and Keswick, from Hope Park. Skiddaw and Hope Park from a Derwentwater jetty. From Hope Park, looking south-west across Derwentwater to Cat Bells (left), Grisedale Pike (right) … Read More »
Within hours of finding a seedy hotel on Paharganj, Friday morning at six-thirty after eleven hours by sleeper bus from Pushkar, I knew my biggest mistake of this trip was not allowing more time in Delhi. A couple of hours … Read More »
You’ve probably heard of Holi and Diwali, but Dussehra may have slipped under your radar. It’s a seriously big deal though in the Hindu lunar calendar. The God Rama defeats the odious King Ravana, the event marked by noisy days and noisier nights of … Read More »
This outdoor cafe does the best street food in Pushkar. I found it on my first morning at a busy intersection in the bazaar. In the countdown to the festival of Dussehra, middle class Indians from Delhi and Agra join locals in frequenting … Read More »
These are kids from the camp on the north-west of town, edging the desert where, after Diwali next month, the world’s biggest annual camel fair will take place. The girl in all but one of the first eight images caught my eye … Read More »
Arrived by bus yesterday at two am. Pappu in Bundi had arranged for a friend to meet me and take me to his hotel. Didn’t happen; I guess because there are two Pushkar stops and the bus driver told me … Read More »
We’ve been on the road an hour, Pappu driving, me riding pillion on his Yamaha. The road, dire as we passed through the industrial estate and nondescript suburbs on the southern outskirts of Bundi, actually improved as we left town … Read More »
Miko will be fifteen tomorrow though he doesn’t look it. “Ask my mother!” he cries indignantly when I voice my doubt. I might at that, but first I need to get off the street and put some food inside me. … Read More »
Khan Khalil was a frequent companion in Udaipur. We hung out in chai shops. He showed me the countryside: me in the back of his tuk-tuk when road quality and gentleness of incline allowed, riding pillion on his Honda Hero … Read More »