As a GP's wife on the Scottish island of Bute, in the 1970s, the author never dreamed of going to live in India where her mother and grandmother had been born. But after her late husband, Jim, replied to an advertisement for a doctor at the British Embassy in Moscow, she found herself living not in the Soviet Union but in, first, Warsaw during the Cold War, and then on the compound of the British High Commission in New Delhi. Jenny's love of the India about which she had heard so much, as a child, shines through her book. ...
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As a GP's wife on the Scottish island of Bute, in the 1970s, the author never dreamed of going to live in India where her mother and grandmother had been born. But after her late husband, Jim, replied to an advertisement for a doctor at the British Embassy in Moscow, she found herself living not in the Soviet Union but in, first, Warsaw during the Cold War, and then on the compound of the British High Commission in New Delhi. Jenny's love of the India about which she had heard so much, as a child, shines through her book. In between letters home, she writes with humour about a ten-day wedding in Bombay, houseboats and hashish in Kashmir, a camel called Cuthbert and creating consternation on the film set of Gandhi, as well as - for her husband - the more serious business of preparing to become a royal doctor during the visit of Prince Charles to India. This record of the life of a Foreign Office doctor's wife in the 1980s is not without its sadder moments. But it is as far removed from general practice on a small Scottish island in the Firth of Clyde as Haggis from Bombay Duck.
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