Driving in India is performed from blinkered eyes, forward. The sooner you become accustomed to this, and start driving likewise, your mobility remains that of manhole cover. (This is covered in more detail in the 'Recommendations for other travellers' section.)

Similar to Agra's Taj Mahal, the Golden Temple is surrounded by marble. Extremely cooling in the shade, and pleasantly warm in the glaring sun. Amritsar was nice.

Delhi itself was a stop to investigate leapfrogging Myanmar. Short of commissioning McAlpines to build a flyover, Myanmar remains one of the players in the double-act with China, in blocking access into SE Asia from the west. You can transit China with your own

Taj Mahal. Never before has foreign-man been more ripped off.

I am going to start a campaign calling for equal treatment of foreign visitors to the UK. We'll start with Swiss drivers, who will be charged a full year's road tax on entry to the country with a vehicle for the privilege of driving on our motorways.

And then we'll move onto charging Indian nationals 37 times the locals' rate for National Trust admissions: that's the difference between the foreigner and local rates for the Taj Mahal entry.

Neither of which I intended to spend.

A trip north to Haridwar and Rishikesh gave some escape from the Delhi traffic-mayhem. Hills at last. The Ganga river starts around here, traced by a delightful meandering road which lasts for miles. Which translated into mile after mile of 4WD local jeep-type taxis, all behind me with a constant 12-volt supply to their horns.

Why is it I derive great satisfaction from dropping the truck into 2nd gear and impersonating a Formula 1 safety car when I hear one of those horns at the rear?