W hen settled in Churu, Diu became an alternative seaside resort; its attractions, if very different from those of Kutch, were no less. Drink was a plus; in Kutch, as throughout prohibition Gujarat, alcohol was easily available but expensive, the choice limited. There was a large army presence and soldiers, entitled to cheap liquor, helped feed the market. In Diu the economy thrived on Gujarati thirst; all manner of drink, including beer, was cheaply available. In September 1984 I moved there to write and soon made friends. Bharatbhai, whose family lived in Bhavnagar, worked in Diu and we shared an interest in local buildings. Suleiman, with whom I drank, was something of a wheeler-dealer; he put me in touch with a family who had an empty house, which I rented.

It was soulless 1940s concrete building known as Bhoot Bungalow, bhoot meaning ghost: it was said to be haunted. I was alotted the upper floor, a downstairs kitchen and a tiny compound, up against the town wall, which had a well populated by tiny, colourful fish. One night a strange scratching sound woke me; the door, slightly ajar, was shaking. I sat up. The sound stopped only to start again as I dozed off. The ghost had come! Summoning my courage, I investigated. There was a stale bread roll at the door and a rat had been trying to drag it away. The opening was too narrow and its struggle tended to close it further! The only other ghosts in the house came from faint night noises, sometimes horrid screams, since the bedroom wall was shared with the local cinema!

Most mornings I visited the centre of town to check for post, visit the fish market and sabji mandi (vegetable market). The tropical climate meant that fish had to be fresh each day; nothing lasted long and ants or rats devoured anything unprotected. Hanging bowls of food from ceiling hooks defeated rats but the ants would usually find it. When not typing, I visited every corner of the town. Many of its buildings had been painted, usually with floral designs which had faded or been whitewashed over. Churches had a few ochre murals of Christian saints. The windows of older houses, lacking glass, were glazed with little squares of translucent oyster shell set in the frames. Most buildings were made of soft, yellowish limestone ashlar. The houses were several storeys high with ladder-like steps running up through each floor; unlike those of Shekhawati they had no central courtyard. A few boasted carved wooden balconies. In one room always had a swing hanging from chains. The front door was often of handsome woodwork with, at either side, a recess intended for a lamp. In Shekhawati the main structural weakness was decaying footings; in Diu it was rotting wooden beams eaten by white ants. There had been older, finer buildings. As a port, the island flourished long before Turks, then Europeans came. Was it Christian or Muslim intolerance that vandalised its mediaeval Jain temples? Builders erecting a new telephone exchange unearthed smashed marble figurative sculpture left from their destruction.