We arrived in Bharatpur, and happily, so did my luggage. I was overjoyed to be reunited with my hairbrush and clean clothes and shampoo and emergency medicine. It was also reassuring to be able to pop Hayden’s bottles in the steam steriliser every night (I had previously been sterilising them by filling them with boiling bottled water) and to use nappies from home. After sunset there were quite a few mosquitos in the hotel restaurant, our waiter spending his time in between courses vanquishing them with an electrified tennis raquet, and I was glad that we had all been taking Malarone to prevent malaria, especially as we had chosen not to use any mosquito repellent.

When we first arrived at the hotel, we noticed that they had several peacocks and peahens. At first we did not take much notice, as we had assumed that the owners had imported them and clipped their wings, as is common in Australia. It was only when we saw one of the peahens take flight that we recalled that the birds are native to this area and we had just seen our first wild peafowls.

The next morning we gathered at sunrise to take an early cycle rickshaw through the world heritage listed Keoladeo National Park, which contains artificial marshes first installed in 1763 by the Maharajas to improve their duck-hunting experiences. Since 1982 it has been a haven to 364 species of birds, and is an important breeding site for herons, storks and cormorants. We saw dozens of bird species during our hours in the park, along with some ruminants and a pair of Indian grey mongooses (but sadly no fishing cats).

Our naturalist pointed out a male jaçana bird following its baby. He told us that the bronze-winged jaçana birds are a species of waders, and it is the males who take responsibility for the care of the young, even carrying their offspring between their wings and body. He smiled and said to Adrian “just like you”.

We learned about the Intermediate Egret, identifiable by its yellow bill and black legs. I felt a bit sorry for the birds with such a demeaning name, and I thought that they were probably a bit jealous of the cute Little Egret and the impressive Great Egret.

With this adventure under our belt before breakfast, we returned to the hotel feeling quite accomplished. We said farewell to Kim who was flying back to Belgium, and prepared for a long dusty drive to Ranthambore National Park.

Over the next several days we visited two beautiful world heritage listed Moghul mausoleums – Humayun’s Tomb in Delhi (built in 1562) and the Taj Mahal in Agra (built in 1653).

The tomb of Mughal Emperor Humayun (one of the many places in India termed the “Baby Taj”) is surrounded by a symmetrical and tranquil Charbagh (quadrilateral) garden, the first of its kind in India. We were lucky enough to be able to stroll past the fountains bubbling away in the reflective ponds, which were restored only 9 years ago after over 300 years of neglect. Instead of a mosque, the only other structure inside the complex is the tomb of the Emperor’s favourite barber.

The next day we drove to Agra and toured the Agra fort, then to the Mehtab Bagh (Moonlight Garden) to see a mausoleum built by Humayun’s great-grandson – the Taj Mahal. I had a little bit of a melt-down as I climbed out of the car while unsuccessfully attempting to juggle all my belongings. I was exhausted after a long hot and dusty day, I had been wearing the same clothes for three days, and I felt hemmed in by the various street vendors who had gathered around the entrance. It was rare in India for me to feel invisible or anonymous, and every time I struggled with something I felt like the whole neighbourhood was silently, curiously, and intensely watching me fail.

We paid the entrance fee and I was slowly able to relax as we ambled past the rows of trees and towards the same Yamuna River that flows past Humayun’s tomb. This garden forms part of the Charbagh gardens that surround the Taj Mahal, and provides a spectacular and calm place to view the structure, especially at sunset. The decline in the water level of the river was immediately evident, and I later learned that it is decreasing at a rate of 1.5 meters per year, potentially destabilising the foundations of the mausoleum. We sat together on the ruins of a brick wall and watched the white marble reflect the soft orange glow of the sunset. It was so peaceful and serene, I felt so lucky to be able to sit and quietly absorb the beauty and majesty of the Taj Mahal in the cool crisp air of the evening.

The next day we arrived at the Taj Mahal before breakfast. There were relatively very few people around, and we were able to pass straight through security and into the first courtyard. The dome really did look perfectly framed as we made our way through the main gate and into the paradise gardens. Passages from the Qur’an surrounded the gates, with an inscription at the base of the interior dome reading “Written by the insignificant being, Amanat Khan Shirazi”. I lined up with the rest of the tourists to sit with Hayden on the same marble seat on which that Princess Diana had posed when she visited in 1992.

The expansive gardens provided us with another venue to sit back and admire the architecture. Unlike most monuments in Europe that are hemmed in by other buildings, these capacious grounds meant that all visitors were able to find their own little bit of secluded space. We laughed as we watched a few locals drinking some Chai tea from a zip-lock bag that they had smuggled through security, and they smiled and offered us a glass. Busy little Indian squirrels darted about, and an amazingly turquoise kingfisher perched above one of the rectangular ponds. As the fiery sun rose higher in the sky, we bid farewell to Agra as we left the cities behind us and began our trek out to the wildlife parks of Bharatpur and Ranthambhore.

Today is our last day in the country of Malta, with each morning bringing a new discovery. Adrian and John have been a little suspicious that each day of sightseeing seems to end at 3pm, but I told them that if they left the itinerary to me then I was going to ensure that there was regularly scheduled nap and relaxation time.

The weather has been spotty, but we have been lucky to have sun breaks most days that were warm enough to sit outside and enjoy a few drinks looking out at the sea. One of the highlights of the trip was a private morning tour by uPhotoMalta, where Duncan drove us around to his favourite spots on the island, letting us look out across the bay to Gozo and Comino, as well as some of the more isolated parts of the country. Near the tail end of Malta we stopped off to see Popeye’s Village of Sweet Haven, originally built in 1980 for the movie, and now operating as a theme park and private beach.

It is amazing that we can drive around the whole island in a single day. Even the pizza place near our door proudly proclaims that they deliver to all of Malta. Our uPhoto tour included a stop off in Rabat to try the delicious mush-pea filled Pastizzi pastries in an old hold-in-the-wall, with old men proudly showing off their trapped finches. We then walked across a bridge across an orange-grove filled moat to find ourselves in Mdina, the original capital city that is now a silent walled fortress containing the first cathedral of St John.

We stopped of for lunch at Marsaxlokk fishing village, the two-story buildings a stark contrast to the high rise apartments near our hotel at St Julian’s. All the boats were symbolically coloured with big eyes on their sides to ward off danger.

John even managed to hunt down to Canberrans living in Malta for us. Sam and Adam are taking a break from Oz to work in the Mediterranean for a year or so. We reminisced about Belconnen Bus Interchange and the Pancake Parlour over a few drinks, and then they were even so kind as to take a day off to show us a few more spots around the island. Thanks to their efforts, we were able to walk through the Mnajdra megalithic ‘temple’. This structure, along with the Tarxien, Hagar Qin, Ta’Hagrat and Skorba complexes, are the oldest free-standing stone monuments in the world, with some dated at over 5000 years old.

Nearby the Tarxien complex is the underground Hal Saflieni Hypogeum. To protect the stones from a build-up of carbon dioxide, only 60 visitors are permitted each day. We bought our tickets back in December to guarantee entry, and caught a taxi rather than the more jovial orange bus to ensure that we would arrive on time. It was an astonishing journey back in time, to see these huge underground caverns that had been carved without metal tools, with red ochre patterns still visible on the ceilings.

When planning our next vacation for myself, Adrian, and John, we had numerous criteria to reconcile. For John, I needed to find countries that he had not previously visited. Adrian required at least three new world-heritage sites. And I wanted a relaxing break by the sea.

After vigorous debate, a fortnight in the UAE and Oman was narrowly beaten by a two weeks in Malta and Cyprus. This first week we are staying in a small hotel in St Julian’s Bay in Malta, overlooking a small harbour with multi-coloured wooden boats. It is such a luxury to unpack and know that I don’t have to look at my suitcase for another six days.

For our first two days we explored Valletta, the world-heritage listed city that is Europe’s geographically smallest capital. One of the homes of the Knights of St. John, later known as the Sovereign Military Order of Malta, we were able to experience some of the opulence of their reign by visiting their co-cathedral and state rooms. St John’s Co-Cathedral is lavishly decorated with baroque paintings, marble monuments to the Grand Masters, and intricate marble tombstones of important knights.

The former Grand Master’s Palace was also quite grand. I loved the long hallways decorated with suits of armour, and the lush sitting and dining rooms for receiving guests. They also had parade armour on display, and the outfits for the horses had little horns so that they could play at being unicorns.

We also experienced the exile of the Knights of Malta by Napoleon in a re-enactment filled with exploding canons and loud muskets, set in the heart of Fort St Elmo. The drama followed the rule of Malta from the Knights of St. John to the French to the British. The costumes were fantastic, especially the French, with their barber-striped pantaloons and leopard-print Mohawk helmets.