Monkeys, U-eys and Padma!

I can hardly believe it, but we’re in India — a week today already and now in Jaipur. The sun is shining, it’s certainly a lot hotter here at around 35 degrees than it is at home. Jonny has stayed behind to fit new windows onto the barge and look after his mum… and I’ve just watched a monkey walk past my window, which still feels slightly surreal.

The last time I wrote here I had only just booked the tickets, and the weeks in between have been interesting — albeit in a mildly stressful way — but that's owning a pub. There's been plenty of fun in between of course with one of the key highlights being our staff Christmas party. It had it moments and somewhat to their chagrin, I beat the young'uns at bowling for the first two games. Thankfully - though not for my head the next morning - I was a bit too gone by the third game to remain forever unforgiven. A massive thank you to their choice of Beefy Boys and Lane 7 for putting up with us and I'm just about over my choice of Wake the Tiger being firmly vetoed.

There’s been a lot going on at the pub — planning new garden furniture, trying to get to grips with how we can finally sort a schedule to put a huge skylight into the back of the bar I've been wanting for the past three years, all the usual stuff — and then suddenly it was Jonny’s birthday weekend. Well, technically his birthday was on the Tuesday, but more about that later… because really, who wants to have a 60th on a Tuesday?

Friends who had celebrated his 40th and 50th with us turned up again for the third decade — some of whom have known him since his early twenties — which made it properly special, even if, if I’m honest, it all felt a bit rushed and slightly disjointed. I love our pub, but not having a “normal” home (whatever that means) does make occasions like that come together a bit weirdly but between dinners at the kids’ house and a knees-up in Pocock’s Living Room we made it work and it was lovely… but I am very tempted next time to just book a house somewhere so we can all just be together.

The same weekend, in completely different weather and at a completely different pace, was Community Orchard planting day — in that quiet place on the edge of the city where we go when we need to step away from the bar. My Dad's Mulberry tree finally went into the ground, with friends there as witness, and to say goodbye with me. Around it went Tête-à-Tête daffodils — just going over, but they’ll come back next year — along with gladioli bulbs from the farmers’ market bought the day before, and violas the children had given me for Mother’s Day.

My father loved flowers, and it felt really important to mark the space not just with the tree, but with things he would have loved to see.

The next day it was off to Bristol early doors to catch a flight to Porto, as the day after was John’s birthday. And boy did we have a full itinerary the next day. Up with the larks again, we headed on a sightseeing tour of the Douro Valley and the scale of it, the Roman terraces, the stunning vineyards, the sheer history of the place, the beautiful river, it was a really special day. We started by learning about the geology of the valley — how Schist and Shale are responsible for the intensity of the grapes — and how "Schist always happens in the valley".

It was on the river tour later on that we learnt about Dona Antónia Adelaide Ferreira — the “lady of the seven skirts” — who studied winemaking techniques and was among the first to bring American rootstocks into the Douro after the phylloxera plague - brought to the valley by a French vineyard owner - wiped out around 90% of the vines. She became a fierce champion of grafting techniques despite huge opposition, including from her lover, Baron Forrester, a highly influential 19th-century English merchant, wine shipper, artist, and pioneering mapmaker who revolutionized the understanding and mapping of the Douro Valley.

The captain of our river boat let the guide take the helm and sat down to tell us the tale of the two being on a boat on the very same river in 1861, which tragically hit rocks and capsized. Supposedly because of the weight of his money belt - although I’ve since read it may have been a backpack full of maps — Baron Forrester sadly drowned but Dona Antónia survived with the aid of her seven petticoats keeping her afloat long enough to be rescued. Due to the incident, her greatest opponent to the new art of grafting was gone, and she went on to save what remained of the vineyards and, in turn, the port industry itself.

During a lovely lunch at a, however many generations Port House, high up in the valley with an exceptional kitchen, our new friends from Little Rock in Arkansas, told us about the Fado House they had been to on a previous trip to Portugal and on their recommendation, we went to Gaia on the opposite side of the river to Porto that evening and listened to some stunning music. We were sat so close to the musicians it felt like we could have become a part of the band itself — and the intensity and passion on the music had me in tears at times in a way that only music can. The rest of that week carried on in the same vein — lots of walking, tiles, hills, port, fish and of course carrying out the express orders of every Tripeiros we met, we crossed the bridge before sunset to take in the view down the river— though neither tripe nor a Francesinha passed our lips.

Though I did discover Pet Nat which is delicious and definitely a story for another day, though I have to say it is absolutely something to get excited about.

And then I came home for a night and now the youngest and I are in India. Landing in Delhi we stayed for two days to catch our breath and discovered that just about anywhere you want to go is done by Uber. The first night, despite a valiant effort to do otherwise, we went to bed at around five in the afternoon and didn't wake up until the next morning but on the second day we went to IKK Panjab, which was extraordinary. I’ve been trying to shift my diet a bit recently — more nuts, seeds, generally trying to get my cholesterol back into some kind of order — and my stomach hasn’t been great for a while, but since arriving here it’s been absolutely fine, which I'm not questioning. Something about the food, or the rhythm, or maybe just being here, seems to agree with me.

On the third day we got the train to Jaipur — a 6am start which isn't our favourite time of day but as the guy who had sold us the tickets had insisted the day before, it was a 'good train' and 100% the right call. Arriving in Jaipur late morning the first thing the tuk tuk driver we had chosen did, was point his mad little vehicle headfirst into four lanes of oncoming traffic, just so he could miss out 100 metres of road and do a U'ey. The resulting action infuriated the traffic policeman who then saw us so much, after watching him literally shake with anger and start chasing us down the road, we had a bit of a laugh and thankfully the tuk tuk was turned back into the flow of traffic to make good our escape.

Arriving at our Haveli, owned by the same family since it was built in 1727 was something of a relief though, after a trip out to a rooftop bar, the anxiety that had plagued me the night before about catching the train on time caught up with me and we had another early night. The following morning however was cool and bright and we headed off to a fab coffee shop and met a lovely couple with a Golden Retriever puppy called Padma - and that chance moment — completely changed the shape of our entire visit.

The young businesswoman who owned the dog and her partner, turned out to be not only warm and friendly and very kind and generous, they also just happen to know half the city and the very next morning, on their invitation, I found myself in the Industrial Zone on the outskirts of the city visiting textile factories and paper warehouses — effectively opening up in a day what I thought would take me weeks to find. Now, exactly a week into our trip, we have enjoyed multiple meals with them, been to their office, been invited to their family home to meet her family including her 98 year old Grandmother and we have spent today visiting block print factories and another paper workshop and will be helping me with all of our sourcing, production, packaging and logistics for the shop in Walcot Street, which means that now we have the time to go sightseeing…and as I’m writing this, there is — once again — another monkey walking past my window.