Having served on Sharpe’s Challenge, I knew exactly what to expect from India. Leaving the aeroplane at Delhi, the 40 degrees C of heat hit me and my travelling companion (Charley, the 2nd AD on Sharpe’s Peril) like the exhaust from the take-off of a space-shuttle.  Due to delays at Heathrow, we were twenty minutes late on arriving on a scheduled flight and with only half an hour left to get the next connection to Khajuraho but transferring from International to the Domestic Terminal was easy – I was met by a fixer and his pal (the simple transfer of a £5 note and a cigar to his pal – he’d never seen a cigar before and the tip was more than he usually earned in a week) saw the suitcases quickly thrown into the back of the car and off we went, recollecting my Indian from last time “Jaldi ! Jaldi !” (which means Quickly! Quickly! in Hindoo - you don’t add Please as this detracts from the imperative coming from a sahib) as we did have a financial transfer to accommodate along the way. To cut a long and tedious story short, we made it five minutes late so I persuaded an official to hold the aeroplane for my companion claiming his car had broken down - but we duly boarded and arrived at Khajuraho on time. The first stop – de rigeur – was at the Film Production Office to report our arrival, drop off all the items brought over and receive our local accommodation orders.  Within fifteen minutes in arriving at the adjacent hotel – through a thirty minute conversation with the barman, Om Prakesh (usually a good repository in India of the most useful advice) - I began to learn the things about Khajuraho you don’t read in the film-brief or the tourist bumpf. Equipped with this local knowledge after ‘tiffin’ (gin and tonic or tea and biscuits) down-town Khajuraho was my first stop that night to seek sustenance via the ubiquitous ‘rickshaw’ – a three-wheeled man-powered bicycle for those not in a hurry to get anywhere so most use the three-wheeled Indian contrivance known as a ‘put-put’ (a motor-scooter fitted with an accommodation behind to carry two persons). I wore my Tilley hat and this proved to become my personal identification in all future proceedings in Khajuraho. Within a week (as Adam of the 95th Rifles may imply in his report on www.95thRifles.com) I was on first-name terms with most of the ‘useful’ population of Khajuraho.

All our exterior locations were very dry and great care had to be taken by everyone at all times not to cause a spark or drop anything incendiary which could easily start a major fire. In the jungle, this meant a ‘no-smoking’ ban so I dug a pit near the Armoury Truck (where it was ‘no-smoking’ anyway due to explosives on board) for the careful use and safe-deposit of cigarette butts. In the course of filming, we had to light house-fires on set to simulate such things as bandit raids and enemy shell-fire and one of these did take some handling on the word ‘Cut !’ : after one particularly hair-raising ‘fire-brigade’ by Bharat – a member of the SPFX team – I thought he was looking very ‘tandoori’ so I threw a bucket of cold water over him. On another location after a bout of serious ‘gunfire’, I later received a handful of ice down the back of my shorts from him in return.

To those who have never been to India, the sights - and smells - that hit your eyes and nose can be a little daunting. A bhail, cow or ox is sacred to the Hindoo and wander just about anywhere they like (though they will receive a gentle push towards the door if they walk into a home or a tea-room) and the ubiquitous pigs – though their stripy youngsters are endearing – bear no comparison to European pigs and look like medieval wild boar rooting around in village middens and dung-heaps. Dogs and cats are mostly avoided because of rabies. In any conversation (which crop up everywhere and anywhere even on the slightest acquaintance) questions are asked of you which in the Western world would be deemed intrusive and likely result in a punch to the nose - who are you, what are you doing here, what is your given name, do you have family, how much do you earn, where are you staying, can you get me or my relatives a job etc ? - have to be received in India as commonplace. As ever, ‘forewarned is forearmed’ and a degree of duplicity can be employed (… and I daresay, expected) but truthfulness can save you some embarrassment in future dealings.  I have always found that shaking hands with your provider (in any way, large or small) and exchanging names before inviting him to please ‘honour me’ by joining you in what you are doing regarding eating or drinking bridges the initial gap – you will rarely meet a female as they are often barred from social occasions and the subject of ‘arranged marriages’ though normal to India in many ‘rural’ provinces is an awkward one to many Westerners. Make it known that whatever they wish to order will be add to your bill (as religious reasons mean they may not choose to accept available foods or alcohol on the dining-table) but this obliges them to at least try and answer your questions (which is also orientated to ‘where do you live, do you have family, how much do you earn’ etc in return as it is expected).  The street’s tea-stall – it closes between midnight and 4 am – is a good spot to hang-out to met your associates and hear the latest news and gossip.

Three weeks from the end of filming, we were experiencing daytime temperatures averaging 42 degrees - and once or twice, 45 degrees. This photograph was taken as ‘proof’ - the thermometer was left out in the sun for ten minutes and the plastic casing badly warped. It’s an acquired taste as Indian ‘white beer’ (non-alcoholic) is quite salty but once you get used to it is a quite refreshing drink in this weather. I often took to sleeping out on a charpoy during March as when the air-conditioning came on in the rooms it nearly blew you out of bed …

The notorious  ‘Gang of Four’  looking cool in a prison-cell in the fortress of Rajnagurgh : Cha-Cha, Bharat and Suresh (the other member of the clan is taking the photograph).

‘Bharat the Brave’ of SPFX - with his trusty hand-pumped hose pipe – quickly and efficiently extinguishes an unscheduled fire