The family adventure
Lucinda and Charlie thought it would be splendid to have one last mega family holiday before their children became wage slaves or drug addicts. Harry is through to the second round of interviews for the Foreign Office – if there is a Foreign Office after Boris has smacked it; Teddy is going to research water conservation during his internship with a geopolitical science NGO; Louise will be returning to Snowflake University, where she is reading medieval flower-pressing.
So India it is, on Dad’s tab. His grandmother, a daughter of the Raj, warned him that cobras can come up the loos, so he has booked reassuringly expensive establishments. Raas Devigarh, a magical palace near Udaipur, must be all right as it is backed by Old Etonians. Bujera Fort has the soothing presence of an owner who worked for Cluttons and has a house near Burford. Charlie’s aunt Lettice stayed last year and said it was Colefax and Fowler meets best exotic Rajasthan, “and the chef uses The River Café Cook Book”. Marvellous news: there is a limit to Indian food. So brown and ominously reminiscent of the contents of a baby’s nappy.
The children don’t care as long as there is Wi-Fi for spreading Insta-envy; Lucinda cares greatly about cocktails and is a fan of the cardamomscented espresso martini at Devigarh. She might go mad and accept ice, eat salad and chuck her hand sanitiser.
Giddy with luxury, they feel wildly superior to the Danish couple who claim they’ve only escaped Delhi belly by taping plasters over their mouths and nostrils when in the shower. It will be a family joke for years to come. As will Harry’s bruising encounter betwixt a cow and a sweet stall in Jodhpur (the cow won), Teddy’s eco-protest against poor dear elephants being made to carry fat Americans up to the Amber Fort, and Lucinda being scammed with acrylic pashminas.
Temples and palaces are all appreciated (educations at Marlborough and Cheltenham Ladies’ College have not been wasted), Lucinda and Louise have emptied shops of things they will never wear again, but the shared family experience is the tie that binds.
His grandmother, a daughter of the Raj, warned that cobras come up the loos
Victoria Mather
There’ll Always Be An England: Social Stereotypes (Constable, £12.99); Instagram/Facebook: @social_stereotypes