India.
Its everything, beautiful, ugly, polluted and clean, poverty-stricken and rich. As much as you hear about the dirt and poverty, its not till you get there and smell it. See the slums and people begging. The lucky people living in tents. The others sleeping where they can.
I was exhausted by it all, by the end. The constant layer of plastic and card debris lying about. The people asking for money. They assume that cos you're white, you're rich and yes, compared to them I am, but its all relative. I have 200 hundred pounds to last me till payday at the end of the month.
You start off pitying them, but by the end of it, I was so worn out by the relentless begging I just didn't care if they had stumps for arms or kiddies in their arms.
Its not even the poor people either, I was conned for "donations" several times in temples and the buggers know they have you there as you dont wish to offend!
It was tiring being a female travelling alone, as they want to take photos of you, with or without them. I'm sure I'm in several Indian mens personal Wank-Banks now. When I saw them coming down the beach I went and sat in the hut until they'd gone.
Its tiring having stop 'n' drop toilets, or even just a tile in the ground to aim for. I complained to Welshy, that it was ok for him, I had to worry about splashback or even trickle down my legs. The places that had real loos often didnt flush or leaked, the showers ranged from cold to tepid and dripped slowly out of the showerhead.
I dont know how I survived, or how anyone survives on the road, its ok to overtake on a blind corner, or drive on the wrong side of the road if you like. And its more than ok to overtake a car thats trying to overtake a lorry on a mountainside.
Families balance toddlers onto handlebars of bikes and people cling onto the sides and roofs of buses.
It was frustrating seeing starving, mangy dogs, dead puppies and knowing that if only they did a castration programme, it'd help reduce the population naturally and release the constant pressure on the bitches, but finding out that any kind of sterilisation like that is considered unholy.

But let me tell you about the good side, the beach in Gokarna, Om Beach, remote and unspoiled by pollution, the huge crashing waves that were endless fun to bodysurf along or try to remain upright in. How I rode a camel into the desert and camped overnight listening to traditional Indian tales by a fire. How the Taj Mahal is actually prettier than you imagine or have seen. How the birds come in amazing shades of vivid blues and greens. How all the trucks and rickshaws are gaily decorated in tinsel and paint, that would look tacky anywhere else. How we hunted tigers in early mornings and watched late night Bollywood films in the cinema and laughed and were moved to tears despite not understanding what was spoken. Let me tell you about riding an elephant and feeding rats at a holy temple and playing with monkeys (I fell over and down the stairs there. Apparently you really do slip on banana skins).
Let me tell you about riding the spirited and responsive Marwei horses and their amazing curvy ears over rocks and along mountain paths.
Let me tell you about delicious apple Lassi drinks and Gulab Jamin desserts and the kind people that helped reunite me and Welshy after we got seperated at Mombai airport (although the bastard did con about a thousand rupees out of me in the process).

There was so much to reccommend about the place and so much to hate, it was a complete land of contrasts, I loved it but was glad to come home to civilisation. I had an amazing time though, despite all the downsides.