Apologies for the world record-breaking delay since the last blog; it isn't our fault, honest. The internet connection here in Kathmandu is so painfully slow and unreliable that it could make your backside bleed. As a result, this is a disappointingly picture-free entry; you'll have to give your imagination a work-out, I'm afraid. Plus we've been entertaining the family, of which more anon, and thus too busy to write. But above all, we've been in India, the craziest, busiest, noisiest, dirtiest, friendliest, hardest, smelliest, weirdest, most intense destination of our travels, for which ten months on the road did not feel like adequate preparation. To paraphrase the Premiership prince of darkness, Sir Alex Ferguson, 'India: bloody hell.' Old India hands we'd met en route had warned us we would feel like this. We ignored them, naturally
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