By 8am the next day I am out of bed, enjoying a fine breakfast. Shortly after packing, I nip out to change some sterling. When I return everyone is anxious to get off, so we pack up the car and leave Aagra behind.

The journey is fairly uneventful and by 5pm we are in Jaipur. Diggi Palace Hotel offers cheap-ish accommodation and we make this our home for the evening. There’s a restaurant attached to the guesthouse. I find the prices are scandalous so I take a walk into Jaipur.

There are no streetlights. Going out after dark is quite unnerving. The moment you leave the commercial zone of shops and restaurants, you are thrown into virtual pitch darkness. Add to this, a huge tide of people coming at you from every angle and it all becomes rather intimidating. I manage to find a takeaway without much difficulty and have samosas for my supper.

Many Indians live in poverty on the street.

Back at the hotel, Brian and I discuss the journey so far. We weren't prepared for the sheer scale of poverty and despair that is a daily reality for so many Indians. It is heartbreaking to see the so-called 'untouchables' living in boxes at the side of the road. Knowing also that custom dictates they have to go to the lowest point in the river for their water. This is after everyone else has washed, dropped their refuse and often defecated in it.

I’m ashamed to say, their plight has little or no influence on my sleep that night. I return to Jaipur the following morning in search of breakfast and find a back street café. Apart from a wizened old man who keeps smiling at me, I am the only customer. For R30 I have three little patty cakes, three pieces of toast, a little bowl of chickpea curry washed down with fine coffee. I thank the chef for a wonderful breakfast and head into the Naree market to buy some fruit.

Back at the guesthouse, I find my fellow travellers are going into town. I locate a quiet spot out on one of the lawns that face the hotel and get down to a bit of sunbathing. After only ten minutes, I am drowning in my own sweat. We are on the cusp of the rainy season and humidity is high.

Feeling slightly bored, I take a walk up to the zoo. I wished I hadn't. All the big cats were addled with dementia. Tigers and leopards paced up and down, up and down. With dead eyes and miserable fur, they looked sorrowful imitations of their once proud selves. Huge cuts of meat lay uneaten in every cage - if you don't count the teams of rats that haunted every cage. I swear, that is the last zoo I ever visit.

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