It is hard to say exactly when I realised attempting a 5,000km trip criss-crossing India in just two weeks was a stupid idea.

Maybe it was when I rushed through the teeming chaos of New Delhi train station with seconds to spare to catch the last train from platform 7a (which was hidden at the opposite end of the station to platforms 7 or 8).

Or it could have been when the brakes failed on my mini bus driving downhill in the Himalayas.

It could even have been paying a taxi driver to travel 250km across India in one afternoon just so I could get to an elaborate border ceremony in time.

I had this stupid idea I would enjoy travelling across this vast country, visiting its gems in Bombay, Delhi, the Himalayas, Jaipur, Taj Mahal and Amritsar within two weeks. As it turned out, India was suitably nonsensical and bamboozling.

So here are just a few things I had to quickly get used to: 1. You need half a day to buy a train ticket 2. When a hostel is so cheap it’s hard to believe (two or three quid) it’s because it’s rubbish. It’s not a bargain, it’s just a dive 3. Replying ‘hello’ to any Indian woman or street kid makes you the funniest and most popular man in town 4. Prices in any guidebook are unrealistic in the real world.

5. If you spend your time too afraid to speak to locals, fearing they are out to rip you off, you will miss out on meeting some wonderfully warm, generous and engaging people.

India is less than 11 hours away and flights cost under £300 from London Heathrow with Gulf Air.

My journey began in Mumbai.

Glamorous skyscrapers border terrible slums and the smells of street vendor food waft past British colonial grandeur.

Staying in the colourful Colaba port area, next to the Gateway to India monument, is an amazing assault on the eyes, ears and nose. But Bombay is India-lite. Sure, it stinks, cows walk the streets and it’s chaotically busy. But this was nothing compared to the ‘real’ Indian cities.

Next there was Delhi; a sweltering sweatbox.

India apparently has a population of more than one billion people. Take a walk through the old city and it feels like you have met every single one of them.

It has the ‘old’ and ‘new’ parts and both are equally unappealing.

The old is an ugly sprawl of the ramshackle and the run-down. The ‘new’ is a featureless modern attempt at a metropolis.

The main backpacker strip, called Pahaganj, opposite New Delhi train station is as ugly, smelly and charmless as an old lady’s armpit.

It’s filled with cheap hotels and bars and, amid the stink, cows and diesel fumes leave backpackers bewildered.

Night or day this is one of the world’s craziest streets. But as one friendly train passenger explained: “Don’t stay there it’s a disgusting slum”.

“Quite,” I replied, “but a room costs three quid...”

Three hours from Delhi by train is Agra, famous for the Taj Mahal and very little else.

Agra may be home to one of the wonders of the world, but it is surrounded by blatant poverty.

Indeed, the city left a bad taste in my mouth as the beauty, expense and elegance of the Taj appears such an ostentatious folly amid this poverty.

Ever since I was a child I wished to experience the wonderfully titled ‘Pink City’ of Jaipur and to see its Hawal Mahal, or Palace of Winds. And as with many childhood dreams, sadly, as an adult I was severely let down.

Jaipur is not the dreamlike fantasy city I imagined, and the Palace of Winds is, quite simply, a wall with a few holes in it.

With some of the most irritating hawkers and persistent rickshaw drivers in the whole of India, Jaipur stretches anyone’s patience. But the Jantar Mantar, a fantastical over-sized observatory which feels like a drug-induced child’s playground, and the sprawling and epic Amber Fort resplendent with elephants, are must-see attractions.

Ordinarily, the dusty frontier city Amritsar should be avoided. But this ramshackle mess tucked away on the border with Pakistan has the two most captivating reasons to visit India. The Sikh religion’s Golden Temple is possibly the most remarkable building in the world. It is more than just a splendid golden temple surrounded by marble and a shimmering lake; it is a living and breathing experience.

I lost count of the amount of times I was stopped and spoken to by friendly inquisitive pilgrims. Some even wanted me to pose for photographs. It is awe inspiring at night and day.

Just half an hour from Amritsar on the border at Attari a bizarre ceremony takes place. Each afternoon Pakistanis and Indians fill seats either side of the border for a pantomime face-off. Border guards march theatrically and stand nose-to-nose with their rivals while the hoards scream their approval under the beating sun.

Crazy patriotic nonsense which is unashamedly fun.

There is much to marvel at out of the cities but India also boasts the stunning Himalayas mountain range.

No trains go into the mountains so the traveller must rely on the least comfortable form of transport in India – the bus.

My 17-hour horror ride was an Indian version of CIA terrorist torture.

I would occasionally drift off to sleep only to be woken seconds later by the bus striking a giant pot-hole or the angry sound of a vehicle’s horn during a reckless over-taking manoeuvre.

By the time I reached the isolated peaks and valleys in the countyside hideaway of Manali, I felt like I had spent the day in a tumble dryer.

Yet Manali is a marvellous tonic from hectic Indian cities. The air is clean and fresh and streams meander past mountain huts, meadows and forests.

There is not much to do but relax, eat and drink and take the occasional walk into the mountains to see a waterfall.

Across the valley is Varshisht, nestled on the mountainside where guest houses rub shoulders with traditional Himalayan homes as the locals go about their day-to-day lives.

Life is slower, cleaner and happier here and I relaxed in the steam baths at a temple in the centre of the village.

The baths are enclosed but open-roofed and you can lie back and see just mountain-fresh sky.

It is difficult to tear yourself away from the serenity of Manali and the surrounding area, especially as an arduous bus journey is the only way out.

In total, I took three overnight trains and two overnight buses. Train journeys in India are a joy, day or night.

Food and drink is on ready supply and even on shorter trips delicious tea and soup is provided.

The communal feel of these carriages force you to speak to your neighbours and you get the chance to meet some of the most wonderful people.

A trip on an Indian train gives you a better insight into the nation’s class system, future and past than any guide at an over-priced tourist site ever could.

So after just two weeks and 5,000km I was exhausted.

India wears you out. It is bewildering and challenging yet thoroughly rewarding.

Was it a stupid plan?

Yes.

Should you go?

Yes.

But maybe stay a little longer and enjoy the genuine gems India has to offer.