Wednesday 31 December 2008

Forgetable French Flair and Snooty Ooty

The cricket was over and it was time to leave the big city for more relaxing pastures. So we headed to Pondicherry, a French seaside enclave three hours south of Madras and highly recommended by the Lonely Planet...The guide book oversold the town....The best thing about it was that we finally found our Chennai Super Kings cricket shirts and 0f course, cricket in the bus station! We decided to head to the mountains and be submerged in colonial splendour - as described by the book....

Ooty is an old hill station and home to several beautiful tea plantations, but it was also to be one of the disappointments of the trip thus far. Perhaps there was too much expectation. The bus journey through the winding mountains was stunning, a tad hair-raising and bumpy but after 5 epic hours with no air con or adjustable seats we were ready to see what it had to offer.

Our arrival at the bus station was yet another experience with the locals checking out the Viru...or maybe they were just staring at the two nutter travellers who had arrived in shorts, t-shirts and flip flops with the temperature settling in at a chilly 5 degrees... a bit of a school boy error and in hindsight perhaps we should of factor in the potential for wintery conditions at that altitude.

We consulted the LP yet again for a cosy place to stay, the YWCA was the top pick and sounded appealing - two sopen fires and constant hot water. The staff were friendly enough and we opted for the premium cottage with a "working" shower . The twin bed request was brushed aside and they showed us the cottage with a double...no problem, they would split the beds and replace the double sheets with singles...later...later please!

We unwound after the long journey by chatting to some other lodgers. French, German, English and South African travellers came together to share stories over dinner. The service was comical (think Fawlty Towers) - ask for an item and the answer was bound to be...not today sir ...2 banana lassis...no sir....no lassi.....only one banana. It was a good thing the compnay and conversation were good or it could've been painful.The eveing was to get better....


With our appetite's satisfied and heavy eyes, we headed to our room to chill - no pun intended although how true it was to be - and plan the trip to the tea plantations but first a hot shower to warm up....... A long story short, ...the beds were still the same and we ended up running to another building in our towels to have a shower. Well it was a shower until the shower head fell off as Hugo showered and we were left with a hose. The manager was up in arms about it all and couldn't understanding why we were complaining.

With the temperatures dropping and the room approaching freezing, we requested a 4th blanket each but despite having a stack of them the Manager was reluctant to give us another one. That was positvely Dan's worst evening on this trip, he was semi dilirious,sweat pouring off him and dreaming of Sachin Tendulkar and swords. Dan spent 45 minutes sitting in the ensuite shower room....elsewhere at 3am (more info than necessary I know, but I'm painting the picture)....not fun...why now when we were due some hiking and outdoor adventures?

The following morning we called a guide and quickly realised that the price didn't include transportation - you get a local who walks around with you for 4 hours on the main road and charges 10 quid each. We looked at each other, decided we could probably manage that by ourselves and jumped on the bus up to Conoor.

The tea plantation itself was brilliant. We had a tour of the tea processing factory and wandering around the plantation before finishing with a few with a few cups of tea.

A snap decision was made to head back to Coimbuture junction for a good night's rest and then an early train to Kerala. Farewell Tamil Nadu!


Wednesday 17 December 2008

Muggy in Madras

We arrived in Madras / Chennai after a monster journey from Udaipur. With a full day's cricket watching to be had the following day, we chose the optimistically named 'sleeper' bus from Udaipur to Ahmedabad. Now I'll try my best to describe this expereince but I fear you won't really see the complete picture.
The sleeper cabins were a solid structures suspended above the 'regular' seats. Our twin cabin was the last one at the back on the bus. We climbed in to discover that for two normal sized people to fit in the cabin we almost had to spoon each other!! No issue we thought, we've had to share a double bed in most of the hotels as it seems India doesn't really do twin rooms and well be asleep for most of the 4.5 hours we've got on the bus.
The three lane highway we'd been promised wa exactly that, a three lane highway. What it wasn't was a smooth road! No sleep was had on that leg on the journey as we were thrown 30 cms in to the air every 5 mins.. We were dumped on the side on the road in Ahmedabad at 2.45am with three and a bit hours before our flight but with only one rickshaw available to take us there. The driver recognised our precarious situation and started the negotiations at an outrageous price. We negotiated him done to a semi respectable level of being ripped off and climbed in to the rickshaw for the freezing 20 mins ride.

We arrived in Madras at 8.30 but still hoped to make the start of play an hour later. We gently encouraged our cabbie, who didn't speak a word of English, to put his foot down. The alarm bells started ringing when he hadn't heard of our hotel despite us opting for a semi expensive mid range option. Indian cabbies / rickshaw drivers seem to know every hotel from the most expensive to the worst but ours didn't know the one we'd chosen. By the time we found it the match had long since started and we realised why he didn't know it, it looked like nobody had stayed there since 1947. It was a dump and an expensive one at that. We quickly rang another hotel and booked their 35 quid 'super delux executive room', which was no better. We reached the third hotel and took whatever they had but vowed to stay for one night only! The Imperial was anything but imperial and a succession of people wanted to enter our room, 'cleaning please', 'laundry please', 'remote please'.......

We bought our 3 quid ticket and entered the stadium, which disappointingly about a tenth full. No worries, we were soon in deep conversation with some locals and enjoying the cricket with England in control. Litres of sweet, ginger chai were consumed together with a multitude of masala flavoured snacks. Our contented thoughts were that the arduous journey had been well worth the effort.
All we had to do now was find a semi-decent place to stay. We had a beer with some of the barmy Army and wandered around the local hotels. It wasn't long before we found the Royal City Mansions which looked welcoming and the two guys at reception wobbled their heads in an endearing way but so much that I feared they might injure themselves!! It was so clean on the way to look at the room that I could barely contain my excitement that we'd found a hotel that was cheap and clean. Dan reminded me not to judge just yet.... but gratefully he was wrong and the room was lush. We had four good nights there and no little head wobbbling. Our repeated jokes about discounts paid off when he paid up and the chief receptionist forgot the agreed rate and charged us the local tariff!

You might think I'm not writing much about the cricket and that's not because I'm disappointed by the result - which I am - but because the cricket really was secondary compared to our experiences with the locals... Madras is a muggy, ugly and polluted city but despite that we had a brilliant time.
Here is a brief overview of the highlights:

Helping Anthony our rickshaw driver get free entry to 3 days of the Test by going to tourist shops with him. While we had dinner after the third shop, he managed to get completely p1ssed and tried to claim sobriety!! Randomly we bumped in to him three days later outside a shopping centre on the other side of town and offering to organise 'illicit women' for us. The offer was politely declined..

The man in the pink suit - pictured - who we saw on every day of the test and who wore something equally garish on each of the 5 days. Apparently he always dresses like a film star!
The cricket. The Chepauk stadium filling up as Shewag hammered England to all parts and the noise when Sachin completed an historic Indian win. The Indian supporters must be the most generous in the world; the genuinely seemed happy when an Englishman performed well.
Danny with Shewag's loudest fan!
Oh yes and I managed to get my ugly mug in the Deccan Chronicle with a group of local fans!
Local cuisine. Although we'd eaten dosa in Rajastan we had to try it where it was from: Tamil Nadu. The pink suited man recommended Sarauana Bhavana, Chennai's most famous veg restaurant. We asked for a table for two and were prompty seated opposite three middle aged men in what can only be described as an interview style set-up. We sat eye balling each other after our initial forays in to conversation were cut short. They did however recommended what they were eating: Idly - a curry with maize balls - and doas - a huge Indian pancake. Both dishes were absolutely delicious but maybe not the best choice when your stomach is gurgling....

Delhi belly and the desire for some western food. So our stomachs were showing the first signs of unease and we thought we'd have some western grub while we bought our Chennai Super Kings cricket shirts. We went to the City Centre shopping mall for what turned out to be a verage average dinner. The bright lights of the cinema were calling us and how could anyone resist 'The day the earth stood still' with Keanu Reeves? Although it should have gone straight to DVD, the film provided many laughs, particularly the ice cream break after 45 mins and me legging it out of the cinema after 30 mins as I realised I'd left some train tickets at the box office!

Bond, James Bond...and a close shave in Udaipur

We've been chalking up various destinations and routes to work out the most efficient use of our time whilst not missing out on any of the recommended sites, and now find ourselves on a bus (5 hours) down to Udaipur. Still excited about our cooking experience and a 20 min session of cricket in front of the bus stand we settle in and get smiles from fellow locals...who have been told that WE are the Cricketers...ahh...yes please...thanking you......

For those of you that are not familiar with Udaipur, it is steeped in history, but also known because of its romantic lakes , rooftop restaurants and rolling hills ...that and the fact that Octopussy was filmed here a long time ago, and still central to the tourism of Udaipur.(see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Octopussy#Filming)


Hugo reminds me of George's email and recommendation of the Mahendra Prakash. I'm on the phone in a flash trying to book a twin room. As always, after a bit of broken dialogue, we work out that there is a room and that we can get an auto from the bus station for about 20P....what no complimentary pick-up??...not a good start...

Upon arrival, we are greeted by the general (old boy in a uniform...security) and escorted to reception, with about 3 guys around us clambering at our backpacks when we have already carried them through to the foyer...a little late boys.

We get a quick tour and take in the plush surroundings. This is by far the most picturesque hotel we have stayed in, with a lush swimming pool and great lawn area. It's a pity that we only have one night here, but at least that will be spent in comfort and the luxury of a little Star cricket, once again.

The following morning we finalise our journey to Ahmedebad , where we are to connect for a flight to Chennai for the 1st Test match between England and India. This is going to be tiring...the bus leaves that evening at 10pm (we've booked our first sleeper seat), then a flight at 6am and straight to Chennai (more about that later).
We enjoy breakfast in the garden and grab a quick dip...the sun is warm at 9am , but it hasn't warmed the water yet, so it's a fresh dip....fresh....!!! We venture up along the road, first cut left, second cut right are the directions to get to the City Palace given by reception, no problems. Udaipur is pleasantly quiter than the other cities and we feel heaps more relaxed and start considering our itinerary for the day...Palace , Lake Palce , Boat trip (potentially??) , Monsoon Palace for sunset....ahh, let's see what happens....oh what about a shave.
Having walked around the Palace grounds and admiring it's grandeur, we get the necessary tourist pics and decide to call it a day on the culture front. All the palaces and forts are now morphing into one...we need to appreciate these.


The Monsoon Palace taken from the City Palace

Okay, we find a rickshaw driver and negotiate a price for a tour of the city finishing at Monsoon Palace - 20 mins outside the city - at sunset.....no problem...how much....15 mins later and we've agreed a price and we're off to the barber.

There are some strange looks from the locals as we take our seats ...this is going to be interesting, no English and trying to explain that we want to keep the burns...we'll see what happens. ..It all goes off smoothly - no pun intended - we get a shave , face and head massage for a whopping 50p...brilliant.
Check the burners....

Time to move on, take our pics and thank the guys...next stop the spice and veg markets.


The spices - can you identify them?

This bustling area has it all. You name and you can find it: sacks of rice, beans, lentils and spices....we pop over to a few and ask questions and finally walk away from a stall with some Kashmiri saffron, all the while getting hurried along by our rickshaw driver because we might miss sunset...calma...calma...fica gelo.... (calm..calm...be chilled...in our Brazilian Portuguese). The vendor is still trying to flog us some Darjeeling and Assam tea, we politely thank him and move on. The fruit and veg markets are colourful and bustling with people - there are loads of strange looking vegetables and between the two of us we struggle to decide what they are...root vegetables of some sort is what we settle on.
The ride up the Monsoon palace is a hairy one, winding road to the top with a lot of horning involved at the turns, but it's worth the wait and the trip as the views are breathtaking. With the sun setting fast, some joker asks us where we are from and when I say SA , he mouths off some word in Xhosa...I am impressed and sucked into a guided tour...for 40p....it's 10 mins and he rushes us along to the best spots with about 3 bits of info about the Palace itself , the Maharaja's shower room, the room where the poker scence in Octopussy is filmed and something about the views....bore off.



Sunset at the Monsoon Palace...how romantic....

The owner of the Mahendra Prakash is there when we come to collect our goods and he talks us through some of his cricketing tales...the photos on his walls with Sachin and Azharuddin in his team, touring English sides and he tells us he played for the 1sts down in Kent for a few years. Hugo asks him if he remembers a George who played for his team about 5 years ago, and this has the man roaring with laughter...he sure does and is soon commenting on George's contribution to the team - 5 years on and impression has been left..good work George.

With the day drawing to a close , it's time to bid Udaipur and Rajasthan farewell. It's been an epic journey and a great introduction to the Indian culture. Rajasthan has not disappointed and is in the memory banks. Next we head into Tamil Nadu........

Riding high in Jodphur

Ah, Jodhpur not the Pink city or the Golden City , but the Blue City....so named because in the searing heats of Rajasthan , the colour provides a coolness to the houses and a repellent to insects...apparently.
The Blue City taken from the Mehrangarh Fort (home of the Maharajas of Jodphur)

We get hustled off the train again , ready to meet up with Lokesh (the son who runs our guesthouse). We've decided to use the Lonely Planet as a guide and provide us with some useful mid-range accommodation and from the description it looks like we'll be getting some luxury, coupled with value....we are yet to see the place though.

As is the case now , nearly a week into the journey , the Viru is getting us noticed and we've barely hit the rickshaw stand, when we're surrounded by about 10 drivers offering us a lift. Then they notice the Viru....within the space of 2 minutes we have a 10 strong game happening. So what if we're tired from the journey, they're not interested. Who cares if there's barely any light at 10pm , they can come steaming in...numerous bouncers are pelted in and the ball is flying off in all directions...the Jodhpur lot seem to be watching too much T20 cricket , the rule book is out the window and defensive shots are non-existent. Lokesh finally comes over and asks if we are the guys he is due to collect, having stood there watching for 10 mins, and we're bidding out farewells to the boys and off for a night's rest.

Now, we're not the fussy travellers and both of us have stayed in some dives on our travels but this place was a huge disappointment and made us realise that the Lonely Planet perhaps isn't doing it's job correctly and reviewing these houses correctly....Mid range, gets you a hard double, no air-con, non-flushing toilet, but some beautiful murals painted on the walls...what are they talking about...rant over, the place was disappointing, but it was for one night only, so we check in and ask about where we can grab a quick "chat"...bite to eat.

We cruise the road down to Nirvana, which is the recommendation, although the guesthouse owner , doesn't seem to know much about it and pop in...they are just in the process of closing, when the foreigners pull in...reluctant to show any disappointment, the calls are "welcome..welcoming..." and we're taking to a splendid rooftop terrace with spectacular views of the fort. The food is delicious and we explain to the waiter that we'd love to understand more about the local cuisine, no problem, you can come and cook tomorrow....brilliant...what a result, we're going to have our first experience in an Indian kitchen....one problem though...time....we have an afternoon bus to Udaipur and can't miss it...we have a gap from 11.30-1pm...we'll squeeze it in.

The following morning is an early start for a cultural experience up to the wonderful Mehrangarh Fort....we spent a few hours with our audio tour and take it all in admiring the splendid views , and whilst it's all breathtaking , we're both keen just to wrap it up and get to Nirvana to ensure that we can cook. So , we're off.....

Our rickshaw driver is still waiting for us outside , having threatened that if we didn't agree the right price that we'd be left alone and would have to pay more to get taxi's down....what a joker, we've been here for a while now and are getting use to their stunts...when in doubt , look to half what they quote is our philosophy, with some banter along the way.

We pop down to the Clock Tower for a quick Chai and a photograph of the Chai Man...a big Indian bloke who resembles a friendly giant, he has a warm smile and keeps wobbling his head , with chirps of photo...photo...he seems to want the photo instantly and doesn't understand that we'd need to download the pic to print it....tomorrow, we politely offer him...."no problem!!"

Nirvana man welcomes us, and assures us the kitchen is waiting , we just need to decide on our food. We go with Hyderabadi biryani and a pakoda....brilliant. As we're about to head off the owner pops over for chat. He spent 15 years in the UK and played club cricket in Durham before deciding to return home and open this restaurant. We have a bit of cricket banter and he is on his way but not before we assure him that his restaurant should be in the Lonely Planet and that we'll recommend them.

To our surprise, the kitchen is in a good state...no rodents running around, they are using chopping boards and prepping for the day.

The action shot....

Our chef is not Indian, but Tibetan. We get started by asking loads of questions about the various spices...turmeric, garam masala, chili powders , coriander etc...we are proper tourists getting in the snaps...popping the pakora balls into the frier, pulling the nan out of the tandoori and the finale, the food shots and photo with our team...
The trainee chefs with their teachers
It's been a great experience and we've walked away knowing more about the delights that we've been eating, next stop Udaipur.

Friday 12 December 2008

Jaisalmier, touted as the Golden City but this has nothiong to do with gold. It actually involves sand and lots of it.

The next leg of the journey was out further west and towards the reaches of the Thar desert , where were committed to finding a flat surface in the desert and taking the Viru out for another cricket adventure.

We use the Lonely Planet for a little accommodation guidance , with a view that the top pick is likely to be somewhere clean, tidy and affordable , as was suggested in the review. Little did we know that since publishing the Desert Moon had decided on some "home improvements" and upon arrival there was water leaking from upstairs..."don't worry sir...just water please....fix now please...fix now welcoming", was the reassuring remark that the owner, Jenatir gave us.

We quickly settle in and start considering what the following day and a half holds. At this stage there is no room for error with our itinerary, as we are awaiting the final decision on the cricket venues and we need to get booking and fast. Rajastan will be a whistle stop tour, if we're to make it to Chennai for the first Test.Karim (the over-friendly hostel employee who tried to kiss Dan on leaving) , comes along with the sales pitch of a lifetime , a real exclusive tour of the golden sands and a camel ride , with "lux" (this means deluxe accommodation) and jeeps as transfer for a whopping 20 quid. Hold on ...hold on....talks us through the offering , don't try and pull the wool over our eyes and let's hear what's really on offer......negotiations are held and we are at logger heads over the equivalent of 50p. Now we know we should probably back down and get on with it , but we decided to think about it (something that the Indians do NOT enjoy....waiting to close a deal). "We have your number my friend , and we'll call you when we're ready after lunch!!"

We head off for a wonder with a view to taking in the Old City , but are very quickly distracted by the Shanti Sports signage en route. We pop in for a chat with Asif , test out a few of the Kashmir Willows bats in store (Reebok, BAS, SS), which we are told retails at Rs 850 (11 quid) and after 30 mins walk out with two balls....one of them is of the heavy red tennis ball type and the other, a little softer and a more detailed seam impression is know as the Spinner. (One more British pound wisely spent). Asif tells us where we are likely to find some people playing cricket , so we head off in search of our next track.

The "park" is a dirt track , but what were we expecting lush green surfaces with pristine mowed lawns?...no chance. We wander up to a group hanging around and start chatting, with cricket being the topic of conversation. Jatinder (our new friend) pipes up that he has a bat at home and perhaps we should get a game going on , but the only problem is that it's a distance to his an there's a cost involved (quelle surprise)...not to worry we tell him, our guest house is just around the corner and we have the Viru.

The match gets underway , with two teams of 5 on a basketball court , it's a T10 game and light is fading....fast There are some unorthodox bowling / chucking styles going on , big heaves across the line but smiles all round.The light meter comes out but the locals are still steaming in, however we finally decide to call it a day. We have made more friends that want us to meet up first thing in the morning for a rematch!

The following morning and we're up catching a dose of our new favourite channel on TV , Star Cricket. It's the Ashes 97 and and we're looking at a fresh-faced Tubby Taylor and Mark Waugh fronting up to Chris Lewis (before he was arrested for alledged drug running...um...). This is brilliant stuff but we need to get the travel arrangements resolved.

That afternoon we're whisked away by our "Jeep"....oh no , it's not , our driver is Karim and there's a problem with the jeep so he'll take us in the owner's car (first promise broken). We enjoy an hour long Camel ride through some heavy shrubs until we finally come out at a stretch of about 2 km's of clear sand and dunes. The Don (another of our tour guides) , comes cruising up one of the dunes with the VIRU and a tennis ball in hand and we're off to find a flat surface in the sand dunes!

Within 5 mins we have assembled an audience and about 8 people are involved with adults , children and camels as spectators. Nine year old Abbay's mother pops over and politely asks if we don't mind looking after him for the next 20 mins as she's going for a walk...no problem. The crowds are swelling and the desert folk are staring, but they love it and another hour is killed on the dunes , with the sun setting in the background.

We return to the camp as the only tourists , for a night of local entertainment and cuisine (we get our first taste of the desert bean). The tent is "lux" with it's own bathroom attached.

The Safari over, we got back in our 'jeep' (old banger with an oil leak) and headed for the train station. As we were on a tight schedule, we'd bought the tickets the day before and been told to 'shut up' by some German for chatting idly while we 'lined please'; clearly a man who doesn't appreciate the significance of England returning to india for the Tests. There time for a bit of cricket at the train station before we board the Delhi Express, which we do with 15 mins to spare. All the while a street vendor is insistent he can fix some minor damage to our rucksacks for 'very good price, no probelm kindly sir'.. Neatly settled in our seat and bargaining with the vendor, an Indian family suggested we were sitting in their seats. We politely told them they must be mistaken and showed them our tickets. Yes we were wrong, our train departed almost 24 hours previously. We pegged it off the train - the street vendor in tow - with no idea what to do when we bumped in to nine year old Abbay and his mother, who told us Abbay had been missing us. The was about 8 minutes of confusion with Abbay's mother, the TC (everyone knows the TC - most important man at the railway station!) and about 10 other locals... Our booking form was produced and yes we'd written the wrong date. That wasn't really the issue, we just needed to get on that train. Two more tickets were bought and we were on the train to Jodphur with 1 min to spare....

Saturday 6 December 2008

The Jaipur Express - our first true experience of cricket and curry

Now you all know that India is a chaotic country but you probably think that buying train tickets would be a straight forward process. Wrong. It couldn't be more complicated or confusing. First you need to get a form, fill it in and go to the reservation window. Finding the right window is a challenge in itself with about 15 different counters each one resembling a bookie's stall at the horses just before the off with everyone trying to place a last minute bet. Once you've confirmed your reservation, you pay at a different counter. When we found our counter after 20 minutes the man kindly informed us that 1) our train was sold out and 2) we would in future be better off going to the tourist booking centre on the second floor.

We made our way to the second floor but of course you need your passport to buy tickets, which clearly we didn't have. Why would we have our passport? We were only hoping to travel to Rajastan, not Afganistan!

Anyway, we got to Jaipur with our shiny new ''SS Viru Shewag 309'' cricket bat (2 quid - tourist prices), which was attracting some glances and the odd shout of "cricket player?" but no offers to mark some stumps and actually play. Did we look that good?

We toured Jaipur - the pink city- with our rickshaw drivers, Super Salim and Ali and really enjoyed the city and what it had to offer. However, the real fun started late on the second day. We stopped for a chai and some roadside bites- samosa and kachori (lentil based dumpling) - and were recommended the Four Seasons restaurant.

That's where we headed. The contrast with the rickety shack where we had the snacks and chai and the Four Seasons couldn't have been more pronounced but both places were delicious. We opted for a dosa to start and followed by two thalis. The dosa was the tastiest thing eaten yet, by some distance. It is a savory Indian pancake served with a spicy soup and an unbelievably delicious coconut sauce. The thalis - pictured - comprise several different, bite-sized dishes, all of which were devoured and enjoyed. Including the salad, despite many warnings to the contrary. It didn't really matter if we got a case of Bombay bum, we only had 13 hours of the train to get through!

How to spend the remaining two hours before our train to Jaisalmer? Playing cricket at the train station of course!

At first, people seemed reluctant to approach the two weird foreigners playing cricket at the front of the station but after one brave soul took up our invitation to play we soon had a complete team, of very varying standards it must be said but a team - including a member of the Indian army! - nonetheless. The floodlights were on and play was intermittently broken by a stream of locals taking a leak on the boundary edges.......!

(The army officer doing his best to bat like his hero MS Dhoni at Jaipur Railway station at 11pm)

There were a few incidences at the crease that caused a lot of excitement - read screaming, shouting and general hysteria- and would under normal circumstances have been referred to the third umpire but train stations in India and impartial decisions weren't ever going to happen, the foreigners were out and on their way to Jaisalmer.

Monday 1 December 2008

Delhicious

Nothing really can prepare you for the friendly chaos that meets you at the airport. The first comical event was the lights going out in the immigration. Nobody made much of a fuss; was this normal?

We went to our host's house, had a quick shower but heading to the madness of the Old Delhi. We order an old ambassador car to take us there and it's fair to say that any self respecting Italian would be proud of much the locals use their horn.

Old Delhi
This is where the true mayhem ensued. I needed a haircut and what better way than to start off with a local trim. The 'stylist' seemed affronted when I asked him to shave my head. No, that simply wouldn't do. He thought a nice side parting - seems to be the haircut of choice here - would suit me well. In the end I had about 6 haircuts as after each trim I asked him to go shorter.

Face massage. Has anyone ever met a hairdresser who doubles as a masseur? No, well come to India - they all do. Having refused the head and face massage about 10 times, he went ahead anyway and in the main it was very enjoyable although at one point another hairdresser told him to be a bit gentler.

Lunch
Street food - very tastey although everyone had been telling me how different Indian food would be in India compared to what we get back home. Well, it tasted pretty similar to me and it's had the same morning after effect too!

Well we tried a bit of the street food and opted for an aloo - potato - dish with spicy sauce. Absolutely delicious. After a failed attempt to go to the Mosque we had lunch in the renowned Karim's restaurant. Three different types of kebab, chicken korahi, rice, nan and sag aloo; all for the princely sum of 500 rupees (6 quid).

We didn't see much street cricket but rest assured that's the plan for today. The thought of being humiliated at cricket by a 5 year old hasn't put me off yet.

To round off an already strange day, we went to a welcome home party in the evening. I've no doubt that Sanjit was glad to have 3 total strangers from abroad welcoming him back to India!