Miss AP's Diary
Carnal Adventures in India
I’ve just got back from three weeks in India. Never have I visited a place in which you can feel simultaneously so rampantly libidinous and yet so sapped of sexual appetite.Let me explain…
I was travelling with a man – lets call him Mr C – with whom I generally tend to experience supersonic levels of attraction.
I’d been to India before as a slumming, scumming, Lonely Planet wielding student complete with smudged henna on my wrists and a perfect downward dog. But this was a different India. This time we were doing it five star.
We spent three weeks palace-hopping: from hilltop marble fortresses to lakeside pleasure palaces, we followed a trail of Rajput decadence leaving an effluence of half drunk champagne bottles and unbearably smug Instagram photos in our wake.
Like a build up to some seismic hotel climax, each place we visited far outshone the last. First there were hot jasmine scented towels served off a gold plate on our arrival. At the next place we were greeted with a moustachioed servant holding a jewelled parasol above us, to escort us to a courtyard wherein we were showered with rose petals. Then there was the candlelit supper in a palace turret; the private queens quarters where we sat on a gilded swing serenaded by a single sitar player, and climactically a suite with a double bed-sized glowing jacuzzi, and a sprawling gold bed that was surrounded on each side with opportunistically placed antique mirrors. Oh what the maharajas must have got up to between those silken folds..
Well I’d love to know, because there was a flip side to all this opulence. A dark and ever-present threat to my sexual satisfaction. I’d call it a delicate insensitivity to the deeply complex and aromatic blends of spices. Others call it Dehli Belly.
Being the hedonists that we are, we gheefully sampled each curry-served-from-a-tiny-silver-saucer that was passed our way by a white-gloved butler. We didn’t hold back. How could any self-respecting epicurean turn down paper-thin charred naan bread enveloping fragrant basmati rice and almond enriched Mughlai chicken?
But we learned to our chagrin that spice on the tongue does not make for spice in the bedroom. Want my TripAdvice? If you want to make love like a maharani, stick to simple biryani.