Saturday 17 May 2025 - Levengrove parkrun and Geilston Garden

Levengrove Park is a short way by car from Tarbet and the parkrun there proved to be an excellent way to start the day. Parkruns in Scotland start at 9:30, half an hour later than in England, so we enjoyed a lie in and a more leisurely breakfast than usual.

The park, next to where we left the car, enjoys the presence of a recently discovered well.

An energetic chap from South Wales kindly took the next picture. He was using this parkrun as a warm up for an ultra marathon multi day event from Fort William to Cape Wrath. He lapped me before finishing the run and dashing off to Fort William to start the ultra.

Others were loosening up on the warm morning.

We were quite sweaty by the end, with Sue in position 45 and me 98th out of the 145 participants.

We were 26:03 and 32:45 respectively on the three lap hilly course. Some were much slower.

Coffees with some locals at the café by the start and finish were most welcome, as our next destination lacked such a facility.

Moving on, we waved goodbye to the River Leven.

A fifteen minute drive took us to Geilston Garden, a pretty place on the way back to Tarbet.

Well, that was fun. After a pleasant hour in the garden we adjourned to Morrisons for a few days' provisions, then it was back to Loch View to discover that the owner had deposited the acquisitions from a shopping trip in the apartment - we now have a teapot, oven glove, oven trays, casserole dish, kitchen towel, bin liners and a second bin, table mats and lots of beer. He's certainly doing his best.

That's all for today unless Sue has another adventure whilst swimming in Loch Lomond...

Friday 16 May 2025 - Fiarach

A drive to Glen Lochy was needed to drop Sue off so that she could climb Ben Lui and Beinn a' Chleibh - two Munro summits that had previously defeated her due to poor weather. There would be no such excuse today.

I drove back to Dalrigh and set off up a small hill, Fiarach, via an old road at the back of the large car park. I soon crossed a bridge over the River Fillan, either side of which provided the views in these first two photos.

After the bridge over the river, a winding path took me in a further kilometre to a bridge over the railway line to Oban. A goods train was trundling in the distance across the valley along the Fort William line.

After a further 2km, with little height gain, the wide track arrived at a gateway into a conifer forest. I turned sharp left here, after enjoying elevenses in the shade of the forest, with a cuckoo in attendance. 

It was a steep ascent in the tracks of a suicidal ATV. It's steeper than it looks; I've come from the edge of the wood at the far left in the next picture.

Eventually a plateau was reached, inhabited by a puddle that turned out not to be Lochan Fiarach. 

A right turn beside the exhausted fence posts and rusty wires brought me up to said lochan, and splendid views to the Crianlarich hills.

The 652 metre summit of Fiarach is at the edge of a precipice, referred to in the SMC guidebook as a dolerite 'wall'. Splendid views all round.

After a leisurely lunch below the summit I returned to Dalrigh by the same route. After yesterday's faux pas I was careful not to head down beside the wrong line of fence posts, but I was still pleased to pass the unmistakable Lochan Fiarach. 

The rendezvous with Sue worked out fine. She got down from her two summits and a paddle just as I returned to the Glen Lochy car park at about 3pm.

Here's my route - 10.5km with 470 metres ascent, taking 3.5 hours.

Plenty of time later for Sue to get shouted at in Loch Lomond as she swam in front of a boat heading to the pier...

Thursday 15 May 2025 - The Brack

We are staying in a cottage in Tarbet called 'Loch View'. Pictured above is our view of the loch, and Ben Lomond, at dusk last night. Not pictured is the settee I had to stand on to get the view. The accommodation is brand new. Comfortable but not quite sorted for visitors. For example, there's a brand new oven but no ovenware or oven gloves. We are managing fine, having to be very careful with the brand new razor sharp knives, etc.

Anyway, we were on the hill by 10am this morning. I dropped Sue off in Succoth to climb Beinn Narnain and The Cobbler, before going to Ardgartan, where the car park was empty. My plan was to climb a Corbett, Ben Donich.

I set off up the forestry track on what was supposed to be a 4km walk up to a turn into the forest. After 2km I arrived at a sign advertising the path up The Brack, pictured in the distance shortly after I started walking.

Rather than continue up the forest track, I took the path to The Brack. It was steep, with tree roots to hang onto at times. I didn't fancy going back down the same way. Good views across the valley to Sue's hills opened out.

Here I am on a brief section of more level ground near a small lochan beside which I enjoyed my lunch.

After the welcome pause for lunch by the lochan, another steep haul (in all 700 metres ascent in less than 1 kilometre), brought me with some relief to the summit trig point.

There were fine views all around. 

En route and on the subsequent descent I noticed Orchids, Bluebells, Dog Violets, Tormentil, Cuckoo Flower, Milkwort, Lesser Celandine and lots of Cotton Grass, whilst Ravens soared above me and Meadow Pipits dashed about in the long grass.

I headed down towards the Bealach Dubh-lic. Or so I thought. So after ambling down towards the bealach I was somewhat surprised to reach the Cowal Way.

Instead of descending north west, I'd gone south west. The hill ahead of me that I thought was Ben Donich was in fact Cnoc Coinnich.

Oops!

A 3km yomp up to the correct bealach followed, with a message to Sue saying I would be later than expected. 

Once at the correct bealach, after the trudge through an area rich in wild flowers, it took me a while (after peering over a selection of precipices) to locate the white posts that led safely down to a path through the forest.

After the stile pictured above, five or ten minutes on a forest path though an area of wind devastation brought me to the forest track further to the east of which I'd started the walk. From there it was an easy stroll back to the car. I hadn't seen a soul since leaving the car park some six and a half hours earlier.

My delay enabled Sue to enjoy a paddle in Loch Long before I returned to pick her up.

Here's my route - 13.5 km with 840 metres ascent. Looking at that, I might have found it easier to follow the green diamonds of the Cowal Way.

Here are a few of Sue's pictures from her walk up Beinn Narnain and The Cobbler, before she went for a swim in Loch Lomond.

Wednesday 14 May 2025 - Tarbet and Loch Lomond

A 260 mile journey has today brought Sue and me to 'Loch View' in Tarbet, on the western shore of Loch Lomond.

In the above photo the old Post Office on the left seems familiar. It was either there or a short way up the road where we stopped in the past in an excellent café, often dripping after a wet walk or backpack in the Arrochar Alps.

There's a small hill, Cruach Tairbeirt, nearby - perhaps that's the summit in a photo taken from our back garden.

A walk down to the lochside brought some lovely views on this, another warm Blue-sky day.

Enticingly close across the Loch, the distinct summit of Ben Lomond pokes up above its neighbouringhills...

Sue has not been up there. Yet.

Maybe she will go by boat.

October 1997 - The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route - Day 20 - October 30

I've not located any photos from today, so here we are again, at the start of the trip.

Thursday 30th October

The train slowly eased out of the platform, as we rooted around for mugs to assist consumption of the 'Double Dog' blended whisky obtained from 'The English Wine Shop' which failed to sell either wine or beer but did a good trade in strangely named spirits.

The train was quite full despite most people in India already having done their travelling for Diwali. But they were all asleep, so we tried to talk quietly, whilst getting black looks and suspicious stares from the conductor at our pint mugs from which we appeared to be drinking dregs.

Eventually we settled down ourselves for a disturbed, but not as much as expected, night in the airless two-tier cabin.

We were all awake again well before the 7am arrival in Delhi. Through a steamed up (cracked pane of double glazing) window on the lower bunk (upper bunks had no windows) I could see a lovely sunrise on a clear day. The piles of rubbish beside the track grew as we got closer to Delhi. A tide of flotsam much worse than that on the Ganges (where about 20 feet above the level of the river when we were there, there was a steady layer of flotsam brought down / deposited when the river is at its highest in the monsoon) lay next to the line, amongst which people were living. As we passed, many were performing morning ablutions. (Crapping right next to the track, in full public view.)

At Delhi station, as the train pulled up lots of porters jumped on, touting for business. A suited man announced to us that he was from A + K (Abercrombie and Kent), and he organised porters to take our 6 bags to the waiting luxury bus. At least, we thought we had 6 bags. Julia and I had always stuck to one each plus day sac. But Richard had produced and filled a second bag, and John had always had a second bag containing medical kit, etc. John also had a spare bag and had forgotten that he had used this to stow the fruits of his shopping trips, which included a large water carrier. This bag had been stuffed well under the seats of the sleeper and by the time John realised it had been lost, when we gained the sanctuary of Oberoi Maidens Hotel after half hour bus ride, it was too late to do anything but change some more money and try to replace the lost items in Delhi.

Hence, we deposited bags in rooms and got a taxi to a main shopping area, passing the impressive Red Fort en route. John set about his task with gusto and we all made further purchases, mainly from Nepalese stores - they were friendlier and more honest looking than the aggressive Punjabis, whose prices could be almost halved by haggling. And if you haggled too much for them you could just go on to a nearby shop and try again for a similar item.

There was a snake charmer cruelly beating his snake when it didn't perform exactly to his requirements, and dancing monkeys with red weals where they had been given similar treatment. Also disfigured and begging children were a constant nuisance - I was later told that many of these belong to organised gangs, who deliberately maim children to make monetary gain!

It was Diwali - Christmas Day - in India, so the shops had opened late and many not at all. However, most of us used up our remaining rupees and after waiting for John, who was rushing around replicating previous purchases, we tried to find a quick taxi. It must have been the slowest in Delhi - an old Russian car which nearly ground to a halt on the slightest of gradients.

However, by 11:45 we were back at the hotel, in time to wash and change into our travelling back to the UK clothes (the best we had), before being picked up by the A+K bus at 12:30.

Despite it being 'Christmas Day', the boss of Mercury Exploration (the rafting division of Mercury), Colonel Navendra Kumar, had invited us to a special lunch at the oldest 'Club' in Delhi - a relic from the days of the Raj - the Gymkhana Club.

We arrived at 1pm in total security and eventually found our way in. This was clearly unfamiliar territory even for the all-knowing A+K bus - the driver and his assistant had to ask for directions!

Ruchi Anand, A+K's 'Guest Relations and Quality Control' greeted us and led us past a massive ballroom to a generous bar area in one corner of which were Colonel Kumar and his entourage. John's status as the son of legendary Everest explorer Eric Shipton opened doors. We were introduced to some legendary Indian climbers - Navendra Kumar himself had been on the first Indian expedition to Everest in 1960 and had reached 8625 metres together with two others. We met Captain M S Kohli, who was also on that expedition. The latter, as Lieutenant Kohli, was also on the second Indian expedition in 1962, which reached a high point of 8720 metres. As Commander Kholi, this glutton for punishment led the third Indian expedition, on which Navendra Kumar was deputy leader. Nine of this 1965 party reach the summit, including HPS Ahluwalia, another of our hosts today. Unfortunately, this latter veteran is confined to a wheelchair, having been injured in a border incident by a bullet. All these people are 'army' - which seems to provide all Indian mountaineers.

The semi paralysed HPSA has built a hospital for 'Stoke Mandeville' type of injuries and is obviously a well-known celebrity hereabouts.

The Chief Executive of Mercury Travels Ltd, Deepak Bhandari and his lovely wife, were also present. They and others had left their family Christmases for a while to join this reception.

After an hour or so we transferred, now quite well lubricated with our first beer for quite some time, to a separate room beyond the Bridge Room, a massive card playing sanctuary. A lovely Chinese meal was served - enjoyed by all except Richard, who threw up on the lawn outside.

John was very much the centre of attention, but when asked for his 'card' - everyone of any status in India seems to have one - all he could produce was the 1997/98 bulb catalogue with his address on the front! (John sells bluebell and other bulbs.)

Lovely ice cream.

This most interesting interlude concluded around 3pm, when we were chauffeured back to the Hotel Oberoi, leaving John in a street market, still attempting to replace lost presents. The rest of us sat by the pool, swam, wrote postcards (a marathon exercise for me) etc.

Then there was a bizarre Diwali firework display. We were summoned to the pool soon after dark and seated to watch the chef and others lighting fireworks. Rockets everywhere, catherine wheels spinning out of control across the patio. Lots of bangs and smoke. Perhaps quite dangerous, if entertaining.

We then adjourned for a Hotel Restaurant snack before being taken to the airport for the long journey home.

Our coach to the airport collected other HK (Himalayan Kingdoms) travellers - they caught earlier planes and left us with several hours' wait for our flight. Unfortunately, we had packed away our cards and there were none for sale, so there was an element of boredom.

The flight home was largely in darkness, this time gaining 5½ hours and arriving just after dawn at a frosty Heathrow. Crap videos as usual, but good food, and the American news channel interviewed Calla's friend Sue's multi-millionaire son Chris Roberts about the interactive computer game involving prominent actors - the latest version of 'Wing Commander'.

I had a long wait for the bus to Manchester, spent mostly catching up with this diary as far as the Gymkhana Club reception, before a pleasant if slow journey back to Manchester on a most pleasant cool sunny Friday. There were about 10 stops! - I'd only noticed two on the way down.

It was Halloween, and everyone I phoned was out. The first ansaphone reply was from (I later learnt) a newly 'liberated' Sue, who provided good company for the Chorlton firework display and even better for a walk around Ullswater on 2 November - how pleasant to be with someone who works at my pace again! 

My diary, Volume 32, also has pages for the following:
Costs – around £2,100
Kit Kist
Flowers
Birds
Addresses, cards, sundry....

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October 1997 - The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route - Day 19 - October 29

Wednesday 29 October

After we went to bed the rain started. By morning it was torrential - everything wet and dripping though our tents didn't leak.

Bhawan provided tea as usual at 6:30, and washing water, for the last time, at 7:30. This was to be a big rafting day, but it's the first wet day for some time, and they seem to think we may be reluctant to raft.

Early morning view from the damp camp; the main river that Anina rowed us across is in the foreground and Julia's bridge is across the tributary that joins from the left

Breakfast is prepared whilst we sit in the dripping cook's tent around a brazier. There is also an Indian party of students staying but we seem to be treated like royalty in comparison. So, the cooks produce a wide selection of breakfast - no porridge today, but cornflakes, veg / cheese omelettes, veg curry and pakora, with lime pickle, plus toast and marmalade / jam. I stuff as much in as possible in anticipation of an energetic day. Time drifts on - the raft was supposed to collect us at 8:30, but breakfast doesn't start until then. Eventually Anina - the Swiss girl with an American accent - arrives and asks if we wish to curtail our day. John and I refuse - we want a full day's rafting. That's alright by Anina - they wouldn't do much rafting in Europe if they stopped for the weather - but a youth from the Abercrombie and Kent office who has been let out to see the River Camp queries the decision to raft - Indians seem a bit phased by rain - and he must be told firmly not to interfere. He is quite out of his depth in this environment.

Throughout the day there also seems to be contact with Mercury head office and the big wig in Delhi - colonel Kumar. A party of three Americans want to do our trek starting on 1 November. Anil refuses to act as sirdar. In the end it seems Sudhil is doing it; Anil chuckles - "the weather won't be too suitable". Also, Pawan is tired from our trek and doesn't want to go. Eventually he calls Kumar himself to discuss and get out of it. He has talent above most Nepalis, does Pawan, he's only 20 and can stand up to the 69-year-old boss who is a big man in Delhi! Also, Pawan has taken opportunities and is very young to be in his present position. He has also learnt rafting, kayaking and rappelling and is now competent at all of them. Bhawan in comparison is older but has tried rafting only once, and ours was his first trek. He wants to do neither again. He is a superb butler and a nice character. Pawan is more ambitious, talented, and very cool under pressure.

The rafting team: L to R: Anil, Richard, Julia, John, Pawan, Bhawan, camp assistant, Anina

Another camp picture

So, by 9:30 we set off with Anina and a junior member of camp who is learning to raft, let's call him Alum. Anina competently rows us up through Camp Rapid to the beach near where the Tata is parked. Bhawan again acts as Richard's personal porter, and Vicram trails around everywhere. Both shiver a lot.

Now Julia gets her first dunking - from the beach where the raft lands and dead bodies and cows float nearby in eddies, there is a narrow bridge over a wide tributary. Basically a log with small (1ft) planks to step across it. 

Julia is having more difficulty on this every time she crosses it. This time she decides to wade across. I try to stop her but don't act fast enough. She gets to the middle of the torrent holding onto rocks, before being swept off her feet and washed a short way down to the bridge before being rescued. She seems none the worse for her experience and we are soon in the Tata and back at the main Mercury camp. Anil is not well organised today - perhaps a good night with Anina has distracted him. [Or maybe not - Anil, a Hindu, is engaged to a Sikh girl.] However, he calmly sorts out a raft for us whilst we have tea and biscuits and John and I attempt a game of cricket using a chair as stumps and a football (the only ball we could find - quite difficult to bowl it in the rain!).

Soon we set off for Marine Drive (see 13 October) in convoy with jeep and trailer and Tata. We are to do the same trip as on 13 October this morning, lunching at Beach Camp, and proceeding to Rishikesh in the afternoon. Today it's just Anil, Alun and the four of us, with Anina's kayak acting as a rescue boat. She is a very competent kayaker - the boat seems part of her body when she's in it. She brought the kayak on the plane (220 cm long [short!]  and 16 kg of a 20 kg limit. She had quite a bit of hand luggage! She's staying until December, then donating her equipment and boat, which is virtually impossible to get in India, before exploring south of Delhi then going to Australia before returning to Switzerland in March 1998. She has 'sold up' and taken six months off, a bit like Lyn who should have borrowed my car to ship possessions last weekend.

Off we go from Marine Drive, down 'Money Maker', 'Black Money' and 'Three Blind Mice'. The river is lower than it was two weeks ago and seems gentler, or have we got used to white water? We now stop to look at a temple in a cave. This is a holy place. Shoes off, we walk about 20 yards into the hill to the temple, which is on a raised platform at the end. It's dark and warm. There's a largish building outside which is also part of the temple. There are lots of piles of charred wood on the beach where bodies have been burned.

Back in the boat the rain has eased. Julia seems ok despite further dunkings in the rapids. She isn't a strong paddler so John and I, who are strongest go at the front, with Alun and Richard at the back. Extra weight is needed at the front to help avoid 'flips' and Julia sits between me and John - a nice position until Anil calls "High Side". This is the instruction for Julia to lean right forward, clinging to the handrail around the boat, to keep the bow down. Invariably, as we hit the big waves, this involves a complete dunking for Julia at the least - and often considerable consumption of the holy water of the Ganges. Julia seems to stand up to this impersonation of a figurehead very well.

We continue uneventfully down 'Cross Fire', 'Body Surfing' (it's colder today and we may not dry out at lunch time, so we all chicken out) and 'Camp Rapid', to arrive after the one and a half hour trip at Beach Camp at 1pm. The weather is improving - rain has stopped and during the afternoon the clouds completely clear to make it warm and sunny.

After a good lunch and warmed from standing by a brazier, we head off on the 2½

hour trip to Rishikesh - 15 km by road, probably 10 km by river. The rapids are harder and need power from the oarsmen. The first one, 'Roller Coaster' brings an unexpected event - a strong wave knocks Alun out of the boat. He recovers well and I drag him back in. Next comes 'Tee Off' which we successfully negotiate, then unexpectedly we stop. This is because the next rapid, 'Golf Course' has nine holes - ie nine big rocks which creates big holes immediately after them. If you hit a hole you flip. Anil had his first flip in six years of rafting on this rapid a few weeks ago. Every day the conditions vary depending on the volume of water, wind, etc, so a recce is needed, also by Anina from the kayaking point of view - she misjudged it yesterday and got stuck in a 'hole' for a while.

There is a 'chicken run' option for wimps. This is a riverside path which by-passes the rapid. Richard seems to opt for this but isn't shown the path and finishes up back in the boat! Some hard rowing is needed and we do get through this rapid, but the expected instructions for John and me are varied by Anil when Richard and Alun at the back stop rowing and Anil's second option is needed. They were apparently both winded by a wave, so instead of back paddling, John and I had to forward paddle as hard as we could to change the line and pass the next hole and get the angles right. Anil explained afterwards that he always has, instinctively, two alternative courses of action should things go wrong, and the oarsmen not perform as expected. This was a good Grade 3 rapid and gave us as full a taste of rafting as many people (not only beginners like us) can expect. Grade 4 rapids can be quite dangerous, Grade 5 impossible.

The next two rapids are only Grade 2, but still really good fun and gave us all more wetness - 'Club House' and 'Initiation', after which we pulled up on a beach next to a big rock. Warm water flowed into the Ganges from a small tributary. Anina demonstrated a kayak jump by putting her kayak on a rock about 8 feet above the river, getting into it, and sliding down the rock into the river. She then, as rescue boat, loitered next to a rock 20 ft high, from which she expected us to climb and jump in! Alun and John climbed the rock. Alun jumped in and came to no harm. I went up to join John. "You're not seriously considering doing that!" said game for anything John. After a couple of false starts I just hung on to my life jacket and jumped. The river is very deep here, and from 20 feet you do go down quite a way. My helmet wasn't properly fastened and came up first. On my second jump the collar of my life jacket broke on impact and came up first, so Anina was pleased to be there to recover the missing items, neither of which I noticed were gone at the time.

This was Really Good Fun. [Memories of jumping off the high board at Eston baths in my youth.]

In bright sunshine we then proceeded down 'Double Trouble' another exciting rapid, then 'Hill Turn' as we entered Rishikesh to magnificent views of the two suspension bridges and the various temples. Lots of worshippers and hippies lined the banks of the river as we floated gently into Rishikesh main beach area. John, an accomplished oarsman who himself has a 9 ft Avon dinghy (the rafts are 16 ft Avons) was given the job of rowing some calm sections and he successfully took us through the fairly easy final rapid - 'Goodbye Rapid', which is near the building where the Beatles spent time in Rishikesh around 1969.

Rishikesh

There was then an amusing interlude when after stowing the raft we were driven to a hotel where a room had been organised for us to change into dry clothes. The balcony door was open and children played on roofs outside. We somehow managed to get into a banana fight with them. We changed, but the management may be puzzled by the bits of banana on windows and walls - the children were quite good shots and got the gradually deteriorating bananas through the balcony door quite effectively. We did get them back!

A quick drive back to the beach to collect Anil and Anina, and then we went shopping in the busy market streets of Rishikesh. On my own and knowing the area, I bought some nick-nacks (bits of pot with Hindu gods on them), a bell, [currently, in 2025, being enjoyed by granddaughter Isabella, and used on various marathons to cheer the runners on], oil/incense burner and some incense. 

Shoppers in Rishikesh

Others also added to their haul before we adjourned to the Triveni ghat for the nightly ceremony, Aarti, at dusk. A beautiful clear night. This time I joined in with the standing in the Ganges and floating off the little lamps. We then rejoined Anil and Anina to stroll back through the thronging market, today heavily decorated for 'Diwali' the religious festival in India which is equivalent to our Christmas and is based on the moon (no moon tomorrow) - which is Diwali.

Goodbye Rishikesh

Soon we left the vibrant town to return to Mercury main camp for a final meal from Pawan and Bhawan - Chinese tonight, and delicious as ever.

Soon it was time to give the boys their tips - the single most expensive item of expenditure on the trip - 1300 rupees for me out of total expenditure of 4100 rupees - we were very generous. Anil also got some shoes from Richard, which were too small for Richard.

As indicated in Monte Erskine's guidance notes, John put the respective bundles of cash in envelopes (specially purchased at Rishikesh market) and handed them out shortly before we left in convoy with the Jeep, to catch our train from Haridwar. Usual eventful journey - cars with no lights, some with full beam, usually oncoming (or any) traffic is missed by inches. A few recent accidents were viewed, one involving a coach. Accidents seem frequent, and at one point on the Ganges we had seen a lorry which had crashed through barriers and plunged 200 ft to its nemesis, leaving debris for monkeys to play on.

We arrived in Haridwar about 2½ hours early for our train - the Missori Express - to Delhi.

We thought the assembled masses - Anil, Anina, a suited 'Mr Fix-It' who drove the jeep and had contacts everywhere, and two or three others from the Mercury camp who had come in the Jeep, would 'go out on the town' as this was the night before Diwali - effectively Christmas Eve in India - and everyone was living it up with celebrations and fireworks. However, they stayed with us! Perhaps they were to have a whole night out after we left - but they had a party from the Danish Embassy to deal with at the rafting camp tomorrow.

On the way to Haridwar both vehicles had stopped outside 'The English Wine Shop' - a sort of off-licence midway between Rishikesh and Haridwar. Because of the strict rules re alcohol in the religions of this area the police object to cars stopping outside this shop. Hence both vehicles had 'broken down' simultaneously. Vicram did in fact do quite a bit of work under the bonnet of the Tata, which we discovered was his private liquor store! He later smelt strongly of whisky, and we hope he got home ok.

Eventually the train arrived, and our hosts located our coach (A1 seats 1 to 4 - we must have been first booked on) and insisted on carrying our bags and waving us off. There was no confusion, and we had already discovered our full details on the passenger list posted on the station:

'J Griffiths 64
M Banfield 48
J Shipton 47
R Middlehurst 46’

Interesting - I recall Richard telling us he was 45! It's amazing what personal details are needed (and publicised) for train journeys in India - apparently to combat fraud and deception and ticket sales on the black market.

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