Number 5

In March 2003 right before the second Gulf War kicked off, I was travelling around India doing the northern triangle of Moghul highlights. I was so lucky after Thailand the year before to be celebrating another festival whilst in-country. This time it was Holi, the Spring festival of colour associated with Krishna where Hindus dance, sing and throw coloured powder and water over each other. Eventually we had our own Holi party safely in the grounds of our hotel, but prior to that we'd been out in the thick of it in Agra, visiting the Taj Mahal and markets. We arrived around 5am, 1 of the only groups that day to watch the sun rise over this magnificent building. The pinkish hue and sparkling semi precious gems were mesmerising. In fact, for the whole 3 hours we were there, I remember quite clearly being totally and utterly mesmerised. Unfortunately we were warned to wear our crappiest clothes because it was the height of the festival, so all the iconic pics of me sitting on "Diana's seat" are horrible. Oh well, just an excuse to go back and do it all again! Leaving the Taj Mahal our bus got stormed by some over zealous hawkers and then later on we broke down and the bus got covered in paint inside and out - and so did some of the group (I ducked)! Tensions almost flared because our driver was Muslim and he wasn't happy about his bus being tarnished, but our Hindu tour leader tactfully calmed things down between him and the kids...
Ah yes, wonderful memories of being covered in pinks, yellows and greens. I think I still have the t-shirt I was wearing that day. I didn't want to ever wash it again!