“Hold on!”, we all yelled in unison as my husband came perilously close to falling out of the doorless 4×4 as it swerved to avoid an oncoming truck. It was 2017 and we were en route to a leopard safari in Rajasthan, on what we knew would be our last family holiday all together.
My husband, Atherton, had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s disease two years earlier, aged 64. Our marriage had been anchored by the kind of adventurous travel that was motivated by curiosity and punctuated by peril. It defined us as people and as a couple, so I felt I owed it to Atherton to keep travelling with him for as long as it was feasible. We’d visited Myanmar, Mexico and Belize, but I was aware this trip to India would be our last one together.
Long before the diagnosis we promised to take our adult children Katherine (36) and Alasdair (33) to India. We wanted to share our love for this country; immerse them…
