It may have been 35 degrees but we felt no warmth in Jaipur. For throughout the duration of our short, unenjoyable stay there, we were stared at and drooled over by the large groups of men who blighted our path at every turn.

The stares were not as they had been in Mumbai. There, each look harboured a meaning different from the next and most, though intimidating to the uniniated, were, on reflection, meant harmlessly enough. In Jaipur however it felt as if every stare was laced with malice. It seemed as if our presence was either resented or riduculed and that each look lingered longer and burned with a feircer intensity than it had in Mumbai as a result.

There were those who did admittedly meet us with broad smiles, enthusiastic greetings and exaggerated gestures. These people were invariably shop keepers, or bell boys, or auto rickshaw drivers, or people who stood opening doors all day. In other words, virtually anyone who thought that they could make a rupee or two from us. And they could be seen to almost drool at the sight of us.

This crude, unapologetic attempt to rinse us rich, unsuspecting tourists of as much money as possible was first experienced when we made our way into Jaipur. About twenty minutes before we reached our destination we stopped off at an old well, which our driver informed us was a popular stop with tourists. As we approached this well, a man materialised and said he would be showing us around it and providing us with vital information along the way. So we followed. He started off by telling us it was a very big well and then... actually, that was it. Five minutes and a photograph later our tour was over. But not before the reminder: ‘that was free, apart from a small tip for my services' was issued by the guide. We handed over a couple hundred rupees, turned to leave but were then stopped by a second man: ‘Tip' he declared. Clearly noting our puzzled faces, he elaborated further: ‘I am the watchman'. I thought about asking if the well posed a considerable flight risk but, thinking better of it, handed over some more rupees and left.

It should be said that it was not the handing over of money that we resented in Jaipur but the way in which it was both expected and demanded, not earned or offered. It meant that, unlike in Goa or Mumbai, the people who offered us their services lacked charm, sincerity or even, at times, civility. Any small kindness was instantly followed by an outstretched, open palm and, the obvious economic disparity between the two peoples notwithstanding, it became quite disheartening to have every encounter finish in the same way. Though they might argue we can afford to feel such sentiments.

The other striking feature of Jaipur was the smell. All four walls of the main city centre were lined with the stinking piss of men who seemed to relieve themselves whenever and wherever they wanted. If an alien race ever visited Jaipur they would be forgiven for thinking that the city was nothing but some territory a giant dog had taken great pains to claim for its own. Though the dog need not worry too much. If the stares and smell were not enough to drive the aliens away, then the noise surely would be. From the moment you left your residence to the moment you returned back to it,you were deafened by the irritatingly intense and insistent beeps of impatient horns that filled the air with one pounding headache of a sound.

I believe the attraction of Jaipur is supposed to be its bazaars, of which there are many. But having already endured the sound, smell and stares that Jaipur had to offer, we were in no mood to be accosted by opportunistic salesman and so we let it pass us by. Instead we turned our attention to the city palace and astrological site. Both were okay but unforgettable.

We did enjoy our meal, which we ate at a restaurant recommended to us by an auto rickshaw driver. It was set in a pleasant courtyard and hosted some entertainment in the form of Indian dancing. Nevertheless, as we tipped the waiter and the dancer and the man who was employed to hold doors open and then the driver who took us a minute down the highway we both agreed that tomorrow couldn't come quick enough. Then we would be setting off for Pushkar.