The hotel - the Ajit Bhawan Palace is just that. The ‘cottages’ - 20 of them, are like hobbit-holes furnished individually in quirky desert style. Ours is a much-coveted room with a tree growing in the middle with a 6’ girth. The beds are on carts with 18” wheels, complete with swords. The bedside lamps are angle-poise bound with coconut mat to make them look like shells. Hmm. We dined with a pleasant group - a French couple, Xavier & Annette, and two newly-qualified barristers, Tracy and Selena - very ‘finished’. They persuaded us to go on the desert safari. It is conducted by the Maharajah Swaroop Swami in his jeep, and with a medical and an art student, we spent 6 hours in the Thar desert, visiting many villages and people’s homes. Apart from the usual cottage industries of dhurry and cotton making, we had tea in one home, and lunch in another, after watching the woman cook the various kinds of bread. They then dressed us in desert clothes and taught me how to spin wool … badly. At every stop, the Maharajah distributed sweets to the children, and people offered him due respect. I spent most of the day slightly cross at his arrogance, which brooked no contrary opinion; and he had plenty! From the decline of British Royal family and English culture to acupuncture; from the waste of money and political ineptitude to state education and Scottish nannies. We visited a school - 9 children from 18 months to 5, parroted English, Hindi and religion, and we were exhorted to applaud their “discipline”. Worth 300 Rs though.