It's 10:30am and C.'s just gone into the shower. That means we won't leave until eleven at the earliest. Not that I mind, I mean we've got ample time to see the Important Things round Ahmedabad, it's just that I'd rather be out there doing things than waiting here for C.. Of course I'm ready, if I wasn't C. would have started writing a letter or something. I have to put the pressure on otherwise we wouldn't leave until lunchtime.

Is this a terrible thing to say? I know he's still suffering, still having trouble eating and I know that when you're ill the last person you want to be with is me. I have no sympathy. I'd like to mother him, which is what he wants, but I can't. Don't ask me why, I just don't have the knack. He's so fussy! If he doesn't like the food, his head drops into his hand, he slows down, looks utterly dejected and the leaves it. Eventually. Obviously his father never gave him the choice between the food or a smack.¹ I think it's childish behaviour and there's no need for him to make such a show of not liking things. Who cares?

...

We've been spending far too much money on food on this trip - mainly because C.'s decided he can't eat Indian food so we have to go and find Western restaurants, which are invariably expensive. It's not fair² - I want to sample the regional delicacies, but when roast chicken's on the menu there's no arguing. So I'm going to have to play the strict parent too and keep an eye on our spending. C.'s hardly bought anything that'll last while we've been travelling so far. I've got incense from Mysore, silk from Bangalore, a poster from Mumbai and a couple of Indian books.³

I hate saying no to chocolate and milkshakes and things. I feel like such a tyrant - but it IS a waste of money. It's nice to indulge occasionally of course, but frequency breeds monotony and empty pockets. I've been spending more than £50 a week, borrowing money from C. when I run out. I'm going to have to borrow even more because I'm going to run out of traveller's checks before C. does.

...

Two weeks have gone by since we embarked on our Great Adventure so we're about halfway through. It's Holy Week, which means Good Friday and Easter are coming up fast. I'd like to go to Delhi Cathedral for the Easter service, I'm not sure where we'll be for Good Friday. On the train, probably.

I was thinking about home on the train and it all seems so far away, so distant. I'm worried that it'll all be incredibly alien when I get back. I've become so immersed here I don't really want to go - I'd like to travel like this for years - see the world instead.

Everyone's going to want to hear all about it and it will have been so normal for me I won't want to tell them. I've forgotten what England's really like, it's just dreams, some story I heard years ago. It'll definitely be a back to reality shock for me. What is my life? What am I doing here? Going home will be a race for University, a house, job, going to Zimbabwe for a month (yay) which will become another dream altogether. I can join in with dad's dream for a while then get down to some serious work at University. A future dream.

I think I'd like to travel more, do more Christian things when I travel, something with meaning, a purpose. What is University anyway? How is it relevant to my life here? I've definitely succeeded in leaving my life behind. More so while travelling now I've left even my music in Madurai. This is a Time-Out from my life, an intermission, a time of doing something completely different that I'll never forget, but that I'll probably never really remember.⁴

Later, 8:10pm

We're in Victoria Gardens now, sitting in the calm of a mausoleum (because it's got light) and filling in the time before our train leaves at 2315.

We've been visiting Mosques today, great stone monuments to a bygone era. They are very different to other Mosques we've seen, being mainly rectangular with one side open and lots of pillars. The Guides keep mentioning the similarities between the Mosques and Hindu and Jain architecture. Some of it is because they're built with bits of old temples. There's a big black slab in the Jama Masjid (Friday Mosque) that is said to be the base of a Jain idol turned upside down for the Muslims to tread on! The Friday Mosque is amazing, with an enormous courtyard paved with marble. The chap there (who 'allowed' me to take a photo then asked for backsheesh) wouldn't let us wash our hands, feet and faces or don our Muslim hats before we went in. I don't know why, perhaps he thought we were extracting the Michael.

There is a weird well that goes about five storeys deep into the ground, with amazing carvings on the walls. Steps lead right down to the bottom of the well so you can reach the water whatever level it's at. It's dry now, as is the river and everything else around here. It's so hot you can tell we're getting near the desert. Tomorrow we'll be in it.

We experienced our first Jain temple - built entirely of white marble and covered in wonderful elaborate carvings. We're still none the wiser as to what they believe - all the idols look the same! They didn't say anything about taking leather inside⁵ but we weren't allowed cameras. Inside, that is.

There's this chap you might have heard of called Mahatma Gandhi who built an Ashram in Ahmedabad, he left it in 1933-ish swearing never to return until India was free of British tyranny. There is a museum about the Ashram and what Gandhi did while he was there, which was fascinating.

We went to a SEWA (Self Employed Women's Association) shop and they had some great home-craft stuff - I got a block-printed sheet and a scarf, which will be my Gujarat souvenirs. SEWA is a brilliant idea, enabling women to work for themselves without being ripped off by loan sharks. It's got its own bank which gives low interest loans to women, as well as insurance and accounts.

I just can't believe how polluted Ahmedabad is though, the traffic is just unbelievable and my eyes are starting to sting. It's quite definitely a Muslim town too - you wouldn't say anything against Palani Baba here.

...

Ramnad seems so far away now, all the time we spent there has become one big, happy memory. All the shops here seem to be called Shanti, which won't let me forget her. I want to get some gifts for them but I don't know what. I really do think a trip back in the distant future is a very real possibility - I just can't let something like this fade away.

Here I am again, trying to write about feelings and what I really think but the truth is I just don't know. Or don't know how to express it. Maybe nothing's there at all, just random events in the rich encyclopaedia of My Life.