The desert village of Khuhri is where I made this portrait. It’s one of those ‘moments’ in my trip where my mind ‘registered’ a distinctive face.

The village in question is one of the major Camel ride starting points far out in west Rajasthan. Memorable to me because we’d spent most of our time in India trying to get out or avoid the prospect of riding a camel. My father had already suffered greatly in Egypt, and I’d already spent two hours (which was two hours too long) riding a camel in Morocco.

The pressure was enormous to go on a camel ride, and when after the n’th time we’d made it clear there was no way we were going to ‘cameley’, the villagers took on a solemn look of dissapointment. I hate to dissapoint people, but in this occasion, I was just much happer to ‘no cameley’ rather than ‘to cameley’. So I took this portrait instead.