Last day - a dose of sentimentality

Sigh. The minutes are slipping through my fingers and the final moment is nearly here.

As many of you know, it was with both excitement and trepidation that I decided to take two months off work and come to India alone. I think my main fear had been loneliness. But I discovered the unimaginable advantages of travelling alone: the freedom and the increased likelihood of meeting an array of people, both other travellers and Indians. And it is the people that have been the highlight of my trip. I hope to stay in touch and cement friendships made (you know who you all are! I hope to see some of you in London and others, beware I shall be making trips to come visit!). I have been constantly touched by the friendliness and the kindness of those who have helped me out.

As it turned out, I didn't meet any other English girls travelling unaccompanied. Yet I found India one of the easiest places to travel. It is impossible to stand long in any public place before being approached by an Indian: a curiosity to be questioned and probed. And assisted. For the most part, I have found people generous to the point of fault, and chivalrous. Those people who approached me at midnight while I waited on a platform, or those who made sure I found the right berth on the innumerable trains, or those who insisted on helping me out time and time again (be it at the post office, buying me water, finding me taxis) have lent protection against unseen unsavoury elements. Actually, this was something I found amusing. I would be approached by a man. We would chat. Then he would close the conversation, warning me about strange men who undoubtedly would want to take advantage. They seemed immune to the apparent irony of their words.

I also enjoyed on many occasions the Indian sense of humour. For example, Lavi at Jaisalmer. When I went to take a picture of the Jain Temple he called out, pointing out to a sign 'cameras - 30 rupees'. I apologised and fished in my pocket for change. He burst out laughing at my gullibility. (I only had to pay if I entered the Temple with my camera.) Or the autodriver at Nizamuddin, who asked for 50 rupees to take me to the ticket office. We haggled for an age and finally agreed 5 rupees. I stepped in and he set off. We moved an impressive 5 metres; he stopped and showed me the entrance. And then howled with laughter at having pulled a fast one over the foreigner. The joke was good. And he of course refused my cash.

And the food is amazing, whether tiffin on the street, a bowl of grub on a train or dishes from a travellers' caf, I have not been disappointed. Nor have I been ill. I have gorged myself on lassis and paneer. Lovely, lovely stuff.

I have been less keen on the constant photographs men take of me. It is disconcerting when strangers pull out mobile phones and take pics. (Goodness, this even happened in Bombay airport.)

But I cannot pretend to have seen more than a mere snapshot of India. I am simply a tourist; a voyeur squinting over a fence and hungrily gobbling in as much as she can in a very short space of time. But I have been struck by the sheer complexity of this country. There is too much to see and do and to understand. And there are just so many people. Until you come to India, I don't think you can really appreciate what it is like to be constantly in such close proximity to other humans the whole time. I think it was Jawaharlu Nehru who said that India is "a bundle of contradictions held together by strong but invisible threads". I certainly see the contradictions. And there is a kind of common identity, but it is not straightforward. This is a country with multiple languages, dialects, foods, religions, colours, moods. In a moment, bonhomie can transform into the most incomprehensible display of violence and anger. This place is exciting. It is volatile. It is vibrant. It is pulsating organism that carries you along with it. It is unlike anywhere else. It makes you feel alive.

As I return home to massive changes in my own life, I hope I have learnt a few things from the trip, both about myself and other people.

Not least, I have discovered that I really enjoy writing. So beware!