The vendor wanted ten rupees (about 12p) for a gloopy crimson drink in a hastily wiped glass. In a nod to hygiene the sidekick wore a grubby cloth tied round his head, but over his sweat stained shirt a grimy woollen vest was streaked with Jackson Pollock stains. After nine hours of almost uninterrupted walking Jamie and I wondered if we were tired and thirsty enough to try the lurid concoction. Continue reading »