Where to next? This is a journal about Phil's progress as he backpacks his way west from his beloved Japan.

Before I get into Jaisalmer I'll mention briefly what came about to bring me there in the first place. On my final day in Delhi - of Delhi belly infamy - I was struck down with a violent, both ends erupting case of the above. This was from a meal the previous day, in a place I was later to discover allowed the resident mice to nibble away at the pastries in the counter. I pulled myself, somehow, through the journey to Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan. I took things very easy for the first day, eating shamelessly at Pizza Hut and Subway, as comfort food for the torn shreds of my stomach. Next day I wandered to the Old City, known as the Pink City presumably because it is shit-brown coloured, and the Shit Brown City is unlikely to pull the punters in. I ended up staying only two days in Rajasthan's capital, concluding that it was nothing more than a hyped-up toilet of a place. Some people I have met agree with me, others say it's a wonderful place. I suppose the moral of the story is not to get sick in Delhi beforehand. Next up Jaisalmer! What a contrast, what a lovely town! There's a huge sandcastle of a fort overlooking the town, and the town itself is quiet - by Indian standards - and quite pretty. Having been hassled on the train by a slimeball representing Henna Hotel I decided to join a camel safari leaving the next day. After the predictable mess of being asked to pay for entrance tickets to a temple having been told our trip included everything, we eventually boarded our beasts around 10am. Mine was called Charlie, a fine name for a camel. Off through the desert we went, breaking for the hottest part of the day in the shade of a thorn tree, drinking chai and eating lunch. After a gorgeous sunset we camped in the sand dunes at night, which was absolutely beautiful, and we woke to sunset, chai in bed, and the by now all-too familiar stench of camel fart. Back in Jaisalmer I spent two days exploring the Jain temples, fabulous, carved stone buidings, and doing little else, taking advantage of one of the few places in India where you can actually relax and switch off. The story ends, sadly, in much the same way it began, with explosions at both ends caused by a meal at a place I'd eaten at before and should have been perfectly safe. It only hit me as I was on the train, and continued through my first inactive day in Jodpur. As I write this I feel groggy, but much better, and I'll save the Jodpur story for some other time.