Up before the lark this morning and away punctually at 5.00 am. Dawn strolled up in a leisurely sort of way to give us our first glimpse of rural India, with images straight from the PG Tips box, of bright saris in waist-high crops … only not tea, of course. The villages are less compact than in Africa, and dwindle outwards into chicken runs and little dung huts with carved, pierced patterns on them, and straw roofs. Whether solid or hollow was difficult to say. The biggest surprise initially, was camel carts; the tall lolloping creatures seeming about to fall over their own plaiting legs and outrageous feet. And all with such an air of disdain at having to work for a living, hauling dangerously overweight cargoes of hay, barrels, sacking or snoozing labourers. Then we visited Fatepur Sikri, an abandoned city of palaces, high on a ridge, in red sandstone. All of it exquisitely carved and accidentally preserved, and totally empty. I’ve never been a tourist at 6.45 am before, knocking on gates to be let in!

By 10.00 am we were in Rajisthan, and by 12.30 in the Amber Fort, another massive construction consisting largely of a maze of maharajah’s apartments in musty stone. The Diwan-I-Am is a lovely mirrored hall, quite well restored, considering Lord Curzon didn’t do it. Then rapidly on to the City Palace (overrated) and Palace of the Winds (incongruous) and an even bigger Jantar Mantar. Immaculate guest house, discovered by accident.