The drive to Delhi was punishing. It took about 7 hours and the first hour was spent just getting out of Agra’s hot, congested, grubby streets. Once you hit the national highway it’s not bad at all but I think Agra is worse than either Delhi or Jaipur for congestion and the dust and heat were very bad. Poor Brenda had a terrible coughing fit, triggered by the dust coming in my window, totally bypassing me and landing on her so we wound up all the windows. The car got steadily hotter as, with no air conditioning, the fan was just pushing hot air about the place but it wasn’t too bad as long as you weren’t standing still in traffic. We had a quick pit stop for lunch (I declined as my stomach wasn’t quite re-acclimatised to food and was doing impressions of a hot air balloon) and then pushed on.

Once again, Gunjan was a total star and eventually found Brenda’s hotel by a combination of conversations with men on scooters and phoning the owner to send a runner out to meet us. Actually, he was less of a runner and more of an elderly man who walked very fast. He met us at a petrol station and shot off round the corner. By the time the car had done a U-turn, he was disappearing through the front door of the B&B that was only just a few yards round the corner.

Brenda got her cases, said a swift and travel-weary goodbye and went in to meet Mike who had flown in yesterday while Mary and I endured another 30 minutes or so of driving round trying to find the Hotel Grand Godwin.

We finally go there, unloaded our cases and dismissed Gunjan with a bundle of Rupees in his top pocket as a tip and strict instructions to get himself home to his family asap as he hadn’t been home for nearly 8 days and his 16 month old son had taken offence and stopped talking to him on the phone.

Well, the Hotel Grand Godwin certainly made up for the journey from hell and was certainly not a repeat of the Hotel Smyle Inn of the first night in Delhi! Lots of men appeared to grab our bags, the receptionist immediately handed us sealed, pre-packaged cups of mineral water and with assurances of “Anything you need, day or night, we are here 24 hours a day to serve you”, we shot up all of 15 feet in the glass elevator to our room on the first floor. And what a room!!! We both have to admit to getting a bit over excited about it.

For less than the price of an average UK B&B we got a triple room (single and a king sized bed as they didn’t have any twin left) a mattress the thickness of the polar ice-cap and HOT WATER, not just by the trickle but in a glorious, constant, high pressure deluge. Bliss! Interestingly, even in higher star rating hotels, “the ubiquitous bucket” still puts in an appearance!

After a very light supper on the rooftop restaurant (both still suffering from hot air balloon syndrome, probably from all the travelling) we crashed out like two companionable little old ladies to read our books for a bit and get some sleep.