The plan was to fly to India, buy a new Enfield, and ride it back, holding tea parties along the way. But that changed when Rob, the dad of one of Theo’s mates, invited me to the Adventure Travel Film Festival – where I was smitten by motocross. Now an old Suzuki scrambler, that just qualifies as…
An idea is brewing, to once again fly to India, and ride back to the UK, perhaps this time accompanied.
I recently helped with a show comprising a slapstick version of King Kong performed by The Smallest Theatre in the World, Bhangra drumming and a story about an ordinary child.
Rishikesh, yoga capital of the world, is expecting a once every six year influx of people in the next couple of days: the Kumbh Mela.
Heading NE, Uttarakhand is so much greener than the planes of Rajasthan, and the one river I saw was fast flowing with the opal hue of melt-water.
After an amiable breakfast I set out for the third side of the golden triangle: Jaipur to Delhi, with a detour to the marvellous Amber fort.
Something about boys 