We arrived at Delhi Airport on Saturday 29 July 1990 and headed immediately to Connought Square in the centre of town. It was pandemonium. I have come across underwear that keeps a politer distance. I’m sure that my Tee shirt which read "Nike. Just do it" was actually Indian for ‘Free Rupees … . 1 day only’.

In the middle of this mayhem, one Indian came up to us and said that he had been to the FA Cup Final in Wembley last year.  Andy being a bit of a football anorak immediately questioned him, and surprise surprise, it turned out that he really had.  We had just met Hafiz,  who would turn out to be our guide, mentor and friend for the next 3 weeks.

We did not hang around in Delhi long. Hafiz recommended that we go to Kashmir as his father owned a houseboat on the Dal Lake. The itinerary was set – fly to Srinigar, chill out in the houseboat for a few days, undertake a trek in the Himalayas, get back to Delhi and do the tourist bit – Agra (Taj Mahal ) ; Jaipur (Red Fort) ; Varenassi (Ghats & Robo-beggars). 

The houseboat was quite something. The smell of the cedar wood was quite intoxicating, and the view of the lake, surrounded by the Himalayan ‘foothills’ was simply unforgettable.

The history of the houseboats stemmed from the days of the British Raj when Kashmir was not officially part of the Empire and thus the British could not procure land to build on. The climate in Kashmir can be likened to a good English summer, and British officers, keen to escape the stifling heat and rains of the monsoon, took refuge in Kashmir for some R&R. Their solution was simple – they commissioned luxurious houseboats and moored them on the Dal Lake; nowadays, the houseboats are very much for tourists (though with all the troubles, a tourist is a rare beast).

A full fried English breakfast was preceded by a swim in the lake (freshwater). We undertook a tour in a ‘shikara’ (very elaborate water taxi), visited the early morning floating vegetable market  and had a walk around Srinigar. The presence of the Indian soldiers was quite intimidating, especially for those that have experienced Andy’s ‘patient and considerate manner' when dealing with non-Europeans !

We set off for on a 7 day trek armed with equipment, provisions, film and a basket of live chickens. During the trek, we grew quite fond of the chickens and even named them….Korma, Madras, Vindaloo….they did not have a great life expectancy !

At Lidderwat, on a note of melodrama, the hostages taken by the KLF and ultimately executed......were absconded (2 years later in 1992) from the very spot that we camped overnight.

We continued the trek and as it crossed the Dryglasi Col at 15,000ft.  We were blessed with fine conditions, great views and many tasty chicken dishes. On the way down the valley, we stayed in a very small village where I celebrated my 26th birthday.  On hearing of this, all the village children came over and sang 'Happy Birthday' in the local dialect.  I was very grateful to both of them !

When we headed off the next morning, we were joined by Hakim and his sister who followed us for the day.   I nearly didn't take this photograph, but am glad I did.

After the trek we rested for a final day in Kashmir before heading back to Delhi on a very memorable journey.  After traveling by bus from Srinigar to Jammu, we boarded a sleeper train to Delhi. 

Just as we had found our seats cum beds, and had gotten comfortable, four well spoken Indians turned up and claimed that we were in their places.  Andy & I were tired so we let Hafiz (now nicknamed 'Hafiz-the-Haggle') sort it out.  It became clear that the seats had been double sold and as the crescendo got louder, Andy intervened.  'Let me see your tickets' he asked the Indians.  'Mmmmh' said Andy, 'they look genuine enough' and with that he flung them out of the open carriage window.  As the ticket inspector approached, Andy bid everyone goodnight as the Indians were ejected at the next station for not having..........

We made it back to Delhi without further incident.  From here we quickly fell into the tourist frame of mind as we headed to the Taj Mahal (pic), Red Fort and Varenassi.  We stayed in some fantastic Raj Palaces, ate well and even took an elephant trip up to the Red Fort.

It was a truly sad day when we bade farewell to Hafiz. but, and there is always a but, we managed to have the last laugh.  As the moment arrived and Hafiz-the-Haggle was expecting his tip, Andy suggested that we tip him £100 each.  Hafiz's eyes opened like saucers.  I countered with, 'no way, he kills chickens', give him £10.  No way said Andy, £80 at least......then the penny dropped !  Hafiz took it very well, especially when he received £50 from each of us ( over 6 months wages for the average Indian ).

We had a great time in India and a great time with Hafiz.  We were sorry to say goodbye to him, but as it turned out, it was merely au revoir.  

Our paths would cross again.........but that is another story.