This will be my first significant solo trip for nearly 40 years!

Bundi to Jaipur

Tuesday 25 January

First stop the Maharajah's summer palace Sukh Mahal, on the shores of the lake Jait Sagar. I'm getting quite accustomed to arriving at old monuments and for the guardian to appear unlock the gate, and another tip changes hands. Rudyard Kipling apparently stayed at this palace, but no doubt it was in a better state then, as now it was sadly decrepit, though still lovely. My driver told me that it was rented out for birthdays and weddings. He proudly showed me the paintings (not very old) and carving and asked me to admire the views across the lake. He pointed out the temples and cenotaphs perched on each peak, including two moslem ones, which seemed a bit odd.

We continued round the lake, to the site of royal cenotaphs. While I waited for the guardian of the key to be found, I looked at the neighbouring village and was struck both by how poor it looked, but also the similarity of the slate lie roofs to the old Cevenol ones.

The cenotaphs were standing in overgrown dereliction, but turned out to be remarkably good, with splendid carvings of the usual elephants, horses and tigers, as well as lots of patterned decoration, which again made me wonder about the moslem influence.

Then back for an internet session before catching my bus. I found a new place with a better computer. The guy in charge was teaching two girls maths whilst supervising the computers. He told me he had a BSc in science. Whilst there I heard the sound of drums and brass instruments and saw a procession passing by, with 30 or 40 women following behind the musicians. This was apparently the first or second day of the week-long preparations for a wedding. The women had been to pray at the shrine to Ganesh, the son of Krishna I think).

I went to the bus station with sinking heart. Its not that these places are dangerous or threatening; its merely hard not to panic when nobody speaks English, buses are coming and going and you have no idea which is yours - although you hope fervently that it isnt one of the lopsided over packed ones with people riding on the roof. Every so often somebody would call out 'Jaipur'- but these were false alarms, as there were several buses, private and government (the latter being slower and safer according to the guidebooks). My one was De Luxe (pronounced here as Dell-ooks). When mine finally came, half a dozen people smiled at me and said "Jaipur". I wish they had told me they were looking after me!

After two hours the bus stopped briefly for what I knew was the only pee stop. Ill pass a veil over that experience... On climbing back into the bus, I was greeted by an elderly (well, almost my age, I imagine) lady, in rather difficult English to follow. She said she was principal of a secondary school and had been on a tour as an examiner. She has two sons, both engineers, living in Canada, one married to a Canadian. She has invited me to her house and we have exchanged phone numbers and emails to progress this. The young woman next to her joined in, speaking far better English. She has just completed an MBA in management studies by correspondence.

We couldnt continue as I had to get back into my seat rather than block the gangway. (Indians in buses and trains display an unusual impatience - no time to shilly shally around.)

There I had been, thinking that nobody on the bus spoke English, when a third passenger sat next to me and turned, with a lovely smile, and started the "Which country are you from" routine. He works in forestry and is currently testing the soil as part of a forestation project near Bundi.

He was amazed that I was travelling alone. Ï could NEVER do that, he said. I need my family with me. If his family goes travelling he is accompanied by his parents and the families of a brother or two. And if they are not travelling, there is nothing he likes better than for them all to get together "for a gossip" while their children all play together. You do get the impression of an incredibly social, communal society - quite alien to our isolated western lives.

I remarked how nice it was to see so many Indian tourists visiting their heritage sites, and he agreed, pointing out that India is a large place and there is so much to see, hence all the travelling that goes on. And indeed, it is important not to forget the size of the Indian subcontinent.

An interesting discussion about family eating habits. His parents live with him and normally eat separately, while he and his wife and children eat together. But if his parents are eating with him, his wife eats later. Wives must never eat with their mother-in-law, he said. I said it must be difficult if a wife does not get on with her mother-in-law. But they do, he exclaimed, it is what is expected.....

He had a lovely smile, so I had enjoyed these exchanges, even though he struggled with his English, but then he dozed of, and I watched the countryside again. It was flat, with the odd conical hill sticking up. The fields seemed larger and more fertile than in western Rajasthan, with stagnant pools scattered around, suggesting there was water around, even though it had not been properly harnessed. And yet, the houses, or shacks, looked particularly basic and the people looked very poor.

I was rather dreading the arrival in Jaipur, as the guidebooks all warned about the city's rickshaw drivers and merchants in the bazaars, with dire warnings about avoiding dodgy, possibly drugged free cups of chai, not to mention being deposited at the wrong hotel.

I was grabbed by a driver the moment I stepped down from the bus. However, I managed to firmly negotiate a price before he grabbed my bags and set off at a smart pace for what was presumably the line of rickshaws outside the bus station. I followed, scared, through the dark, noise and commotion of a bus station, terrified of losing sight of my bags. Crossing what would have been a dual carriageway with at least four lanes (if such things as lanes existed in India) was hairy to say the least. The driver turned out to be the 'nephew' of a driver, but between them they amazingly delivered me to my hotel, although there they showed a distinct reluctance to leave, hoping to secure me for outings the following day. I bid them, again firmly, good night, and felt quite pleased at this assertion on my part.

The hotel is bland, impersonal, but calm, and my tiny room on the ground floor is *clean* and only 750 rupees a night (about 9 pounds). I forgot to ask if this included tax, so I fear it may be a little bit more. Taxes seem to vary from state to state and city to city, but I am not surprised when 10% "luxury" tax is added.

I had been cold most of the bus journey here - I never seem to get the right clothing for these trips and either freeze or boil - more the former (how I wish I had not abandoned my fleece in London). One of my most invaluable garments is the mainly silk longsleeved teeshirt I bought just before leaving. Wish I had bought two: washing it can be a problem, given that I cannot bear to take it off!

It was really cold in Jaipur, indeed I had been told that the previous night the temperature dropped to zero! My companion in the bus said that this was an exceptionally cold winter and that the cold period was later than usual: normally by now it is beginning to be a bit warmer. I told him about people dying of the heat in France two summers ago and he said that here in India, people died rather of the cold. Many people seem to walk around wrapped in a blanket and tourists can be heard exclaiming at the cold.

Of course one of the problems are that there is simply no heating, apart from the little bonfires people living in the streets make by the roadside. But at dinner, I saw my first convector heater! The food was not bad but the company was rather boring, a mixture of nationalities but all couples, talking in a rather subdued way.

After the meal I wandered into the hotel sitting room and found two young American couples: a couple of electrical engineers and a couple who had been teaching English in Korea.

The woman of the engineer couple had been taking two years out of work travelling and was now getting anxious about finding work again with this two-year hole in her CV. Two years ago she did a trip rather like mine, from South Africa up to Ethiopia, with similar hairy adventures. She had sold her house in order to travel.

The teaching couple had managed to let theirs to pay the mortgage, and were now travelling round the world on the proceeds. They said that Korea was a good choice because although you dont manage to make as much as in Japan the work is not so hard and you dont need any qualifications other than a degree. They had both been teaching young children and the guy said it was much more fun than teaching older children who had been sent unwillingly to English classes after a long day at normal school.