Bobby put on an extra layer, as did I and we started the morning session.
After just over an hour, the sun started rising slowly to our right and we rested.
The Border was marked by the line of the Pen Ganga River and just before the bridge over that river, we passed yet another overloaded lorry that had tipped over by the roadside.
We wished we could relax there but our strict schedule would not allow us to divert so we wished from afar.
On the other side of the bridge it became immediately apparent that the lovely roads we had come to love had disappeared, only to be replaced by a single lane track. This was a stark contrast and one that was proving to be tough on Bobby’s feet.
We pulled to the side for a rest and watched colourful carts full of village folk pass by on their way to the fun fair.
When Bobby started again, we managed to find a petrol station with some rough land by the side where we allowed to park.
We sat for a while in the last of the sun’s rays as we rested outside sipping chai.
Open air showers followed and we were ready for bed after dinner hoping for better roads ahead.
I went to sleep feeling sorry for cursing the M25.