I was walking towards the staff room when Gilly approached me. 

“Would you like to come on the India trip?”

Just like that, as if it were just like an ordinary school trip to Chesil Beach to measure stones or some museum to study the Romans.

The India trip is two years in the planning, but they were departing in three months. My late entry to the project was on account of the history teacher who had been planning to go having just handed his notice in and was off to another school. 

I am not a world traveller. I like decent hotels and good communication links. I do like seeing ‘real’ places, venturing away from tourist centres, but this would be in countries such as Canada, The U.S., Australia, France or Italy.

India. Blimey.

Travelling to Asia is something that either appeals to people, or is the furthest thing from what they would consider a ‘journey experience’. 

With no real thought and just a few months to go, I had committed myself to the trip.

I should have sat and had a long think. But that side of my nature that says yes quickly and then regrets for a long time afterwards kicked in.

“O.k.”

Ouch. My reply was going to hurt. It was going to make me as ill it as I have ever been. It was going to take me into the worst slums of Delhi. It was going to make see death and poverty. But it was also going to let me share experiences and meet some of the kindest people on this planet. I was going to see things that would take my breath away and wipe me out emotionally. Take every experience you have ever had, magnify them, beat them around, see a new world. That is India.