I’ve not travelled much since hmm…. Forever it seems. I resort to watching frowny faced presenters in knitwear that even myopic aunts would baulk at giving as presents visit remote parts of Britain to live amongst refugees from parallel universes, learning first hand that eating nettles and weaving your own breakfast is wearying.
So when offered the chance to allow myself to run alongside three women d’un certain age as they circled a large chunk of India, via the medium of a book, some crafty piccies and my imagination, I took the plunge.
Barb, Jaya and Janine might not be the three graces, or even subplots in some Shakespearean drama involving daggers, peripatetic woods and some untimely ripping, but they neatly counterpoint each other as they journey around several famous forts, temples and quaint hotels. They shop, shout and shoot respectively, eating vigorously, leaving their driver to consider a wider…
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