Arrival

The hired car-and-driver is carrying them up the steep road, into the Fort. There's not a lot of space. Another car is attempting to leave. The driver asks directions to the hotel. Confusion reigns, but the travellers take this in their stride. They have been in India for a couple of weeks and have come to regard this confusion as normal. Eventually, someone is found who can identify the hotel and the bags are unloaded; and trundled down a lane to the entrance.

Their efforts are immediately rewarded by the spectacular view. Their room is linked to a wall-top terrace and sitting areas furnished with big, brightly-coloured cushions.  Their bedroom is large and well-appointed; hung with rich draperies. And in the centre, is a large comfortable bed. Subdued lighting, a tasteful modern bathroom and subtle music add to the air of luxury.  In a recess in the room, on a low table, stands a four-foot-high bronze statue of Parvati.

Jennifer is delighted.  This is the true romance and ancient mystery she had come to experience, only slightly contradicted by the sight of the wind-farms on the horizon.

And in the room is Parvati, the consort of Shiva, worshiped for her sensuality and primordial creative power.  Parvati, the creator of Ganesh, the elephant-headed god and most beloved of Indian deities. 

The couple shower-off the travel-grime, as one might plunge into a pool, after a day’s toil in a dusty wasteland. Preparing for a warm evening, they change into light, loose-fitting clothes. They're both revelling in this welcome luxury,

Outside, within the Fort, that evening, they wander hand-in-hand in the warm and scented air, when they come upon a temple, emanating sensual mysticism, the various faces richly decorated with voluptuous, semi-naked bodies. They find a discrete niche, embrace and kiss; and she forgives Bruce for his lack of romance earlier.

It's time to go to the luxurious restaurant for the promised 'first-class Indian dining experience'.