The last time I came to Bangalore I managed to break a bone in my foot after ingloriously stepping into a pothole. This time I’m trying to be a lot more careful, though it’s not that easy amid the tremendous amount of construction that is taking place in this part of the city - not to mention the torrential traffic.

Still, when I get back to the hotel in the evening I can escape all the chaos and noise in a room called Xanadu. This may not quite be the “stately pleasure-dome” of Coleridge’s famous poem, but it’s a pleasant enough place to stay in - not least because it has its very own private garden where I can smoke as I enjoy the fresh evening air. (I know that to many people this may sound like an oxymoron.)

Lurking inside, however, is a nasty and vicious beast poised to prey on any victim who dares to set foot inside the bathroom. This is otherwise known as the shower, and it’s an absolute triumph of over-engineering with its multiple jets that spray water at industrial strength at you from just about any imaginable angle.

The only problem is that the beast only operates in two modes - boiling hot or freezing cold – so every encounter with it leaves my skin either red raw or goose-pimple blue.

Never mind. After so many trips to India over the past few years I’ve learned to become a lot more patient and even stoic at times, so I’ve decided stick it out. This, or so I am told, is good for the soul, and besides I’m not sure that the beast in the bathroom of Ruritania next door would be any easier to control.

On the other hand, there might be a nice soothing English bathtub waiting for me in Wessex across the floor….