Having waited for Ajit for several hours, because he had promised to return my photos, I decided that I would send squeeze a Fax, having only just realised that, unless Indian post was exceedingly quick, she wouldn’t have had sight nor sound of me since the I left on the 13th.

At a price of 120Rs per page I knew I was being ripped off – so I agreed 150Rs for two pages which the man at the corner shop agreed to.  “Do you want to receive?” he asked. I thought this was a dumb question – if he had to get the fax machine out of the cupboard and had to plug it in before I could send – how could he possibly expect to receive? Clearly Indian logic.

Afterwards I went around to the art school for a beer with the boys – a sort of farewell drink – and a last opportunity to see more of their artwork.

Earlier that day I had eventually found Taldar Travels – the travel agent I had looked for a few days ago. Again I got completely lost – and lost my bearings – which rarely happens. I eventually worked out that the Rough Guide map was wrong, or at least it was a little sparse with factual landmarks.

I booked a seat on the bus to Jodhpur for 10pm the following night. I had eventually decided against Pushkar after Ajit told me it was full of drug addicts – which explained why people enjoyed staying there so long – it was the Amsterdam of India.

I would spend a couple of nights in Jodhpur before heading onto Jaisalmer by Train. 70Rs was a good price.

Miniature pornography

The boys showed me some of their cheeky erotic art, which only the elder boys were allowed to paint. Icons of various sexual positions, the odd group-sex image as well as a couple of threesomes.

“Why didn’t you show me these before?” I asked. I bought one ‘mounted’ as a greeting card to send to my parents – which I was sure they would find amusing.

As it turned out one of the boys was a palm-reader – so he read my fortune.

He said I was a very lucky person and that in late life I would be successful – indicated by a new freckle on my lifeline. I had had one serious relationship previously – but my current one would last for a long time; I would get married and have many children.  The two moles on my left hand indicated luck and that the woman who finally married me would therefore be a lucky person too – inheriting my luck, and I hers.  We would both be successful in later life; I would live to about 80-85 and have high blood pressure from the age of 75.

He told me all this at quite a pace – “Practice” he explained.  I was impressed as a previous reading two years ago by a doddery old woman from London Bridge had revealed nothing quite as accurate.