Rolling countryside, fresh air and farms. Long walks and cycle rides. Cheese, beef, ale and sausages. A big, old dose of all the things that India isn't great at providing.
It wasn't completely dissimilar though. That there New Forest is a fan of the street animal: cows and donkeys all over the road. We squeezed in the Golden Triangle, at least that's what I'm calling the cycle to Burley and Brockenhurst. Rather than starting at a bustling metropolis, we started at the rather less bustling Fritham (in a wooden caravan filled with meat in a pub beer garden, I know, right?); the Pink City and Taj Mahal were replaced with cream tea and cider. So a very English India.
Still, Bombay Sapphire is Indian, right? Don't answer that.
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