By Inesh Patel
Do my eyes deceive me, or is that…is that THE SUN?
Having spent Christmas in India’s happiest city Pune, I took my first non-delayed, train to Goa to spend the New Year period with a friend who had flown out from England.
By Clare Garcia-Rodriguez
The home of Inspiring Interns’ Manchester office, the Northern Quarter, is a vibrant hub of eateries, bars, art galleries, independent businesses and quite a few underground Ping-Pong venues.
Having spent a week clambering over Hampi’s sun-kissed boulders and milking every last bit of its relaxed vibe, I felt sufficiently refreshed to tackle a week of intensity and mayhem in Mumbai.
Having seen the city encroached by the high water levels of the Ganges just after the monsoon, Varanasi looked a different place a month later when I returned having spent a few weeks in off the beaten track Arunachal Pradesh.
Shrugging off what I deemed over exaggerated safety concerns from travellers, guide books and locals, I was looking forward to my unplanned North East diversion.
Before I left I was told by a friend who had recently returned from his own solo trip through India that I’d be back after four months, or I’d be dead.