Crouching low, these gardeners are hard to notice. They wear beautifully coloured saris, I know not to stare. Their current job is cutting back the purple foliage plant to encourage new growth; piles of this plant rest on the walkways bright in the afternoon sun. In previous centuries these walkways would have been bisected by a broad, shallow expanse of water, cooling the air for maharajas and their visitors. I feel the need for cooling as the day is steamy, the distances long. However I am not discontented, all I have to do is remember my UK, its winds and cold, and I smile and am happy.