Weeks in Delhi looking at Art and dead previous prime ministers blood stained clothes. Camel trekking in the desert and several twenty hour train journeys in an almost freezing north India. Roof top restaurants and falling out of rickshaws whilst under the influence of cheep dark rum, taking hundreds of photographs along the way. Back to Delhi to Agra to Jaipur, all first class, with a rose. Ancient forts and palaces, time with the greatest of friends. Shivaratri in Pushkar followed by a McDonald’s in the desert. A reunion with Lala and his brother cousin and little children painted blue, whizzing past with the soundtrack of brass. Marry-golds flying through the air from all directions. Creepy piggies, crashing cars, fake beards, gin and tonics and private drinks receptions with servants, help in pink cardigans flat chested.
Goats in jumpers, tens of grooms adorned on horse-back, February being an auspicious month to wed. Taj Mahal snowstorms, Mumtaz and chicken..pick pick pock pock. Falling waiters, open sewers dancing ladies elephants yea. Men with the longest taches in India, beauty pageants and home-made beggar survival packs, including one cigarette and a box of matches.
A flight via The Gujarat and a massive mercury rise to swaying palms, warm seas and golden beaches. Space. A sweet destination comparable by some to Allo Allo. Chilli jam, spiky fishes teeth and a ray-ban gringo explosion. Late night confessions, cucumbers and the first baked potato in six months, all wrapped around the most glorious reunion. Salads, internet spats, the remembrance of a friend lost and the sea times; aquanastics not being the same without a missing tiny pair of hands, yet replaced with laughter – ” Hi, were aquanasts, could you help us?” Still all through yellow.
A month of contrasts, highs and lows but amazing. Change inevitably comes. Elation and dread in the same week, as the clock ticks forward towards the return…………
PinkyBinks 
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