The human body digests India's rich melee of colour, noise, dust, smell and ceremony, and spits it out the through the bowels. We last two days here before the dreaded Delhi belly sets in, despite pegging it from the eponymous capital at the first possible moment. We are now in Rishikesh, a beautiful valley of pick 'n' mix ashrams and yoga centres, near enough to the source of the Ganges that the river is clean. Not a bad place to convalesce. Two miracles happen here: 1. We opt to stay in a town devoid of meat or alcohol. 2. Emma gets up for an 8.30 yoga class every morning (conducted by the hotel receptionist-cum-guru). Paul insists he is still to ill to make this, but this could be a rouse. We have journeyed from Haridwar, a
... read more
