and in five years time you might just prove me wrong

PUSHKAR, MARCH 11TH

My birthday and the end of my photographic journaling of project week. We arrived at about four in the morning, after a very uncomfortable bus ride. Wandering around the streets, we managed to find a hotel, just about stumble in and collapse on some beds. The 'next' morning meant an attempt to find breakfast, which was quite an interesting thing.

We'd headed off down the road optimistically, but were soon hampered by the large bulk of traffic and noise. Slowly picking our way through it, we found a street with several rooftop restaurants. All we had to do was choose one.

Simple, you'd think, but no.

Pushkar is known for its drugs, and, in particular, a special little drink called bhang lassi. Lassi is a thick yoghurt drink, which one can find over most of India. It does not affect one to any great extent, unless you are very prone to sugar rushes.

Bhang, on the other hand, is a form of cannabis. Enough said on that, I guess.

The place was thus, understandably, filled with hippies.

Back to the breakfast issue, however.

Thinking we had too much choice, we decided to just pick the first rooftop place we saw. Unfortunately, this one turned out to be rather awful.

We made our way up the narrow grey concrete stairs, hemmed in by weirdly pastel pink walls. When we got to the top, it was completely deserted. Having already woken up the guy behind the counter by this point, we felt obliged to take a seat in the awkward-looking wicker chairs and admire the view. The little man stumbled over awkwardly and handed us the menus.

We chose, we ordered, we waited.

We continued to wait for about an hour, occasionally checking downstairs to see whether the cook was even still alive. We'd only ordered pancakes, and it wasn't rocket science.

Turns out the guy had had to go to the market, buy fruit, come back, walk upstairs, pick up plate, walk back down, turn on the gas, build a house, write a novel and serve us some food, all at the same time.

We tried to enjoy the view and each other's company, but what with my 'on my birthday' addition to the end of every sentence (admittedly, I was still feeling solidly sixteen), the fact that we'd spent a long time together already and it may have been wearing and our hunger, it was not the most fun hour.

When the food finally arrived, it was suspicious, substandard and not worth the build-up. I hope the novel and house building worked out better.

The rest of the day, after avoiding the fake priests and stomaching the disappointment that the lake in the centre of the city was drained, went a little better. The place was infused with some sort of happy, calm atmosphere, and we passed the time spotting the coolest hippies, shopping and enjoying the city.

That evening, we got to Jaipur, where we spent the last day of travel week. It was stunning, and if I do eventually get the pictures my co-travellers took, I'll put them up. On the train back, we met a crazy American yoga-teaching hippie, but that's a tale for a rainy day.