Conditions were not ideal.
The room where I used to stay had vanished, demolished to make way for the construction of a new house, the building of which continued while I was there, not there but next door, where I found a cheap room. Unfortunately a week after I moved into this room a Kashmiri family with two small children moved in next door, adding to the Kashmiri family in the room on the other side of me, with their one small child. The children screamed, their mothers screamed at them, which made them scream even more and the Kashmiri women carried on shouted conversations across my room from one end of the corridor to the other. Meanwhile next door the builders took it in turns to use hammer drills and angle grinders.
I continued to get up at five a m when all was quiet and get on with my research and writing. At six an army of crows began cawing in chorus, then the people next door woke up and there was much hawking, spitting, chatting, then between seven and eight the nightmare children began screaming.
Somehow I managed to ignore all this and carry on with my writing, until eleven, when I went for a swim. Why didn’t I find somewhere else? I tried, but all the cheap rooms had been taken and I was very short of money.
Unbelievably I stuck it out for six weeks and finished the first draft of my latest book, before heading north into real India.