We were led to a small café which Gilly knew was clean at the end of the road. It’s hard to focus when there is a giant white cow eating from a sack of rubbish outside the front door, but this was the new landscape. 

More rules: no meat, no salad. A strict vegetarian diet for the next three weeks. Not that we couldn’t trust the food but with us moving by train to so many locations we had to stay fit and healthy; we couldn’t risk illness for anyone. BUT the illness was to come…

The café served a cross between western and Indian food, catering for the tourists, but it was encouraging to see locals in there as well. There were some interesting menu items such as ‘Scrumbled eggs’, but Gilly encouraged us to order Indian. I chose Gobi Aloo, feeling very safe with cauliflower and potatoes.This became my preferred meal for the rest of the trip, the country throws enough at you without experimenting with the more exotic foods.  

We had a decent meal, it became a safe location and we became friendly with the owner and staff.

Walking back through the market I was able to take in more of the myriad of overblown extremes of the senses swirling around. We needed to exchange some money. A spice stall trader was able to give us a better rate than any of the official money exchangers, so we dutifully queued up waiting for our cash. Giving your passport and travelers cheques to a complete stranger, who then disappeared across the street was quite worrying – but he came back, with the cash.

This was the first opportunity to speak to the locals. Traders always want to talk to  you, it is not unusual to stand in the street and just start a conversation. It is obvious that you are different and this attracts a natural curiosity. What was also obvious was how English was spoken so well. There was a fluency about the language, not just something left over from times gone by, but language used to be able to trade effectively.

Stopping to chat and really noticing the differences can be a good thing – you easily get into conversations, but it can also lead you to a lot of hassle from people paid to take your group to a specific shop. Jumping in tuk-tuks can lead to being dropped outside a shop, whether you want to be there or not!

The hours of traveling was taking its toll. Gilly purposely kept everyone awake long into the Indian day so we would all sleep well that night. Back in my hotel room I still felt uneasy and unsure. The room was a great comfort. You need to hold on to western culture to help you through. You are so bombarded that you need those small reminders of home. 

6,500 miles from rural Dorset I finally gave in to sleep.