Sunday 6th April 2025

We landed, and by the time we taxied to the terminal, and all the other stuff, it as ten before we got off, then walking miles and miles to the immigration hall, where more forms to fill in, biometric data taken, and then we could present ourselves, our passports, our visas and declaration form for scrutiny, and then after stamping the passport, we were allowed in.

We had to wait at baggage claim for the others, our bags were already waiting, then we could all go into the arrivals hall and look for our agent.

Who wasn’t there.

At first.

We he did arrive, he led us outside, into the blistering heat, along a walkway to a booth to wait for the bus to arrive. The others were thrilled to have a family of Minah birds close to photograph. I skipped this.

Our vintage bus arrived, we loaded the bags on board, climbed up the steps and into the seats. The air con was turned up to full, and we moved off.

The exit was through well manicured gardens and lawns, with a small army of guys snipping and strimming. This was as a contrast to when a few minutes later, we left through the main gate and onto a main road, which was lined with litter-strewn verges and scrub. In some places worse than others, but where back, was terrible.

Also terrible was the traffic, with a cacophony of horns soundtracking this, and I suspect every, journey. With cars, buses, trucks, tuk-tuks and mopeds all vying for space on the road.

The bus hit every pot hole and gap in areas of the road, juddering us all the time.

Each junction the bus forced its way out, to yet more horn toots.

We saw every aspect of modern Indian life on the way, from those living under bridges or in parks, people with stalls selling brightly coloured crisps and bottles of pop, to houses and mansions.

All to a soundtrack of angry horns.

We arrived at the hotel, lurching across two lanes of traffic as the security gates opened, and we entered air-conditioned luxury.

We had to do nothing, except walk off the buss into the hotel, our luggage was carried for us, we just had to identify ours and it was taken to our rooms, we were given a drinks, and all the while, all staff bowed to us.

The lobby was huge, all gleaming marble and fresh flower displays. While we waited to be allocated rooms, we went for lunch, which as I also suspect will be every meal, a buffet.

Dahl, curry, vegetables and fruit for desert. All very tasty.

Noting planned for the afternoon, so once we had our room keycards, we went upstairs, and like the others in our group, tried to sleep for a few hours.

We woke at half five, sun was setting and we were party rested. A shower and change of clothes helped make us feel human again, so at half six we could go down to meet the others and go for dinner.

It was happy hour in the bar, buy one, get one free, so the beers went down well, before we went back to the restaurant for another buffet meal.

Back into the bar, where we made friends with a former New York City judge, John, who is on a Grand Tour of India, Nepal and Greece. In the background, the IPL played out, with players from round the world in snazzy kits smashing the ball all over the place.

It looked exciting.

We went to bed at half ten, with me clutching a free beer the barman insisted I was owed, hiding it from the duty manager who had a gaze like Medussa.