In Malang, East Java, my run of good luck was brought to an end, by a con artist. We were just about to settle down for something to eat when a guy came bursting up to me and explained that he had been robbed and had all his luggage stolen. Absolutely penniless, he was in a dire situation, and needed to make a few phone calls to sort things out. He wondered whether we might be able to help him. A thousand images of our journey flashed before my eyes; the hospitality in times of need, in the freezing temperatures of Iran, the food and lodgings from complete strangers in Tibet, and the help we have received at every turn in making our pilgrimage. How could I possibly question this man's integrity, he was in need! And of course I did the decent thing and put my hand in my wallet.

Now it happens that I wasn't really at my most alert on this day, and I didn't really check out his story thoroughly. His facial expressions and his reaction when I did hand over the money just didn't seem quite right. When he said he was looking forward to getting a burger just across the road I knew things weren't right. As we waved him on his way he just didn't have the look of someone who had just been robbed. I'd been duped - and I'd just given the guy about the equivalent of 9 British Pounds to aid him in his moment of need, or to keep in Cigarettes for a while. ............Now you may be wondering just what kind of a guy this was, who might have had the honor of being my first con artist on the road since leaving England. The name he gave us was Paul Martin, and he, allegedly, hails from Dulwich in South London. To have been swindled, after a year across the length of Asia......... by an Englishman. Well, once I had got over my pride, I reflected, and concluded that it must have been meant as a story for those worried about travelling to Asia. How Poetic I thought.