We’re now completely sold on laal maas, the red desert specialty of mutton (goat) which has been cooked for hours in a hot, rich yoghurt gravy of fiery green (or red, depending on where you are) chillies and lots of garlic. The meat is so tender, and with toasted garlic naan and roti, and our other favourite, the sauvignon blanc from the maharashtra region, it’s just become our perfect go-to in these really hot temperatures. It’s hot here, but not stifling, and nothing like scorching-hot-super-harsh kiwi sun – so completely bearable. I’ve had a few nose bleeds but we think it’s got something to do with how dry it is more than the heat.

We left Bikaner around midday, regretting it big time. We just loved our time there so much. We’re going to miss Sid’s sumptuous tiger lily gin cocktails and it was especially hard to leave Juju, the resident tortie puss – perhaps the luckiest puss in all of Rajasthan with the rat temple just up the road and all the highly collectible art deco antiques, furnishings and works of art to snooze amongst day-in day-out.

When we pulled up outside the haveli at Mandawa we were greeted by a local folk musician standing at the entrance playing the kaimaicha, serenading us with a traditional rajasthani tune. We were ushered through a tiny door in the gigantic two-storeys-high main stone door, into the most stunningly beautiful courtyard  hand-painted with frescos of peacocks and roses. This amazingly magical, secret hideaway, again, seemingly, popping up in the middle of nowhere in the middle of our Indian adventure. As we entered the courtyard, a young guy showered us in flower petals from a small balcony above and we were served a deliciously sweet welcoming drink of lemon infused with musk.

At Narendra Bhawan we thought we’d fallen down Alice in Wonderland’s rabbit hole, but here in Mandawa (about three hours away, partly by remote gravel road, and costing about 4000 rupees for the drive) we both now think we’re in a much weirder and stranger place, but still in a good Lewis Carroll kind of way and just as astonishingly and breathtakingly beautiful.

Following the formalities of checking in, we were led to our room – the royal suite we later learned, which is set aside for dignitaries and newly-weds. It has its own balcony, once used for entertaining with musicians. Jit was very concerned we needed to set the record straight ASAP. I was completely taken away by it all, preferring to instead go with the flow and see what fairytale romance could possibly lie ahead.

The haveli is an elegantly restored nineteenth century mansion in what’s called the Shekhawati region, which is in the northeast of Rajasthan. After a late afternoon walk around the grounds we sipped a sweet white wine on one of the rooftops watching two bright green parrots (lovebirds – I know, could it get any more romantic!) flit about above us in the branches of a neem tree (which apparently has exceptional medicinal properties). Here we randomly met Simmonds, the haveli duty manager, who shared with us the history of how the mansion’s ownership and its restoration came to be. According to Simmonds, merchants constructed the grand havelis in the Shekhawati region during the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries. The haveli is to the merchant what the forts are to the rajput I guess. Meticulously and elaborately designed to represent wealth and affluence, they’re richly decorated inside and out with these amazingly colourful and decorative painted murals in pastels of candyfloss pink, baby blues, peppermint and lemon. During a wander, I came across a little sign explaining haveli architecture patterns – like doors strategically located square in front of each other because the gods aren’t able to navigate around corners and curves.

While we sipped our wine and listened to Simmonds, across the lane a peacock sat on a fence calling for his mate, several cows slowly ambled by looking for somewhere to settle for the night, and a guy tethered his camel. We had absolutely no idea what was to come but it was just such a special treat, and another memory we’ll always treasure. As we dined by candlelight within the bougainvillea covered walls of the main garden, we were treated to more traditional folk singing – a husband and wife duet – and I was even especially serenaded with their own interpretation of frere jacques! It was so magical. Two young guys then entertained us with their puppet show (kathputli), the little wooden marionettes handmade by their grandfather.

We were completely lost for words – a first – and when we learnt a group of fashion photographers from Bombay were staying to do a menswear shoot in the haveli grounds the following day, man, let’s just say mild hysteria broke out in the royal suite later that night!