My journey to north India had its roots in staffing issues.
Kerala’s biggest festival was approaching and I had promised Anu, my resident house-boy, he could celebrate it at home with his family.
Shaji & Dalila, the loyal husband & wife team who have catered and cared for me since I bought this house some years ago, would still be here from 8:30 in the morning until 5 pm.
But a relatively large house has certain drawbacks.
The idea of serving my own evening meals, making my own early-morning tea and generally rattling around alone every evening for the twelve hours of darkness, had limited appeal.
Taking my cue from “Slumdog Millionaire” I phoned a friend, and asked if he would like to take a holiday.
We decide to head north.
Our travels would begin in Delhi,
over two thousand kilometres north of Kerala,
capital to the Mogul Empire, the British Raj and modern India.
The first day of September kept Das, my driver, busy.
He delivered Anu to the railway station, then Robin and I to Cochin airport.
The Indigo Airlines flight to Delhi landed punctually at 10pm.
But I am not a night person.
The relief at spotting my name on a placard was considerable.
Ravinder, our driver, was waiting beside the Arrivals gate.
He would guide and shepherd us for the first five days of our travels.
The hotel was not far from the airport.
In less than an hour I was in bed, asleep and dreaming..
Picture of Indigo Airlines ramp taken during our travels.