is there poodle in my noodle

It was not until we were queuing for our flight to Kalkuta that I realised how much I missed the carefree and banterous exchanges familiar in the UK.

The Indians are a gregarious and expressive bunch who love a laugh. The vibe of the Indian territories is the Ying to the Chinese Yang; where there was order and efficiency, now chaos and anarchy reigns. Modesty and reservation have been replaced by bravado and swagger. Serenity and sanitation, now petrol fumes and random piles of discarded items, leaking weird juices.

On our triple-leg redeye flights to Jaipur via Bangkok and Kalkuta, the female flight attendants were downright fierce just to keep the passengers in check.

The Indian customs were no joke. At one point, I feared Jem would be deported when the officer, at the end of a long night shift, shouted, “What is this e-visa you’re talking about?”, when they have been using the system since 2014. He then proceeded to stamp Jems passport with the wrong date, and when we got to the hostel, Jem was declared an illegal alien by the owner.

We are planning a merry journey down through India, ending up in Goa for Christmas. All safe and well here, and full of curry.