Pither reaches a checkpoint on the road where there are many heavily armed Indian soldiers. Along the road there is a rugged stone building and further away is a barracks for the men, and other small sheds. Sandbags have been stacked to make low walls. Jeeps and armored vehicles are parked. A flagpole flies the Indian flag.
Mr. Pither pulls out his travel documents from a pocket and hands them over to an officer while the other men stand around watching with their automatic weapons ready.
The officer talks to one of the other men, shows him Pither's documents, then turns around to the building and makes a gesture for someone to join them. Indian officials in suits hurry out to greet Pither.
Indian Official (Jones): Welcome, Mr. Michael Palin, famous British television celebrity, to India! We have been expecting you. (The men cheer and wave their automatic rifles.)
Pither: That's very kind of you, but my name's Arthur Pither. Mr. Arthur Pither of 365 Compton Road, Tewkesbury. Not this Mr. Palin you're waiting for. Sorry!
Indian Official: The people of Kashmir are great fans of Monty Python. (Soldiers start laughing and applauding.) We would very much appreciate it if you would sing the Lumberjack song for us.
Guards: (shrieking in excitement) Lumberjack! Lumberjack!
Pither: Oh, I'm afraid I can't sing.
Indian Official: So modest you are Mr. Palin. Not like these Hollywood stars we've heard about. (Chuckling and slapping Pither on the back.) It is very important for us to show how warmly we welcome the British traveling public to our land. We wish very much to be featured in one of your highly educational travel documentaries. Where is your camera crew, Mr. Palin?
Pither: Camera crew?
The Indian official looks around with some concern but then finds the camera. He looks at the camera and happily waves.
Indian Official: We wish to emphasize how safe our land is for the European tourist. I assure you that Islamic suicide bombers are strictly forbidden in our country, Mr. Palin.
Pither: That's good to know.
Indian Official: Not like the Northwest of Pakistan. It is filled with brigands, terrorists of all sorts, agents of the Pakistani intelligence service. On your travels were you troubled at all by any violent incidents? Small arms fire? Rocket-propelled grenades?
Pither: No, nothing like that, I'm sure. Although I had two hard-boiled eggs damaged near the turnoff for Newquay. I mean, Islamabad.
Indian Official: A land mine?
Pither: No, the bicycle pump got caught on my trouser leg.
Cut to a stall in a busy, colorful marketplace. The rather surly looking proprietor is selling cooked snacks. Someone behind him is throwing dough into a deep fryer. Pither is leaning over the counter talking chattily.
Pither: The pump caught on my trouser leg and the sandwiches were badly crushed. These pakoras, however, were an excellent substitute. (The proprietor looks completely bored.) It's funny how one can go through life, as I have, disliking fried food and being indifferent to hot chillies but yet be able to eat, and enjoy, a pakora like that.
Proprietor (Idle): That would be 10 rupees. (Pither hands over the money.)
Pither: I suppose that you Indians really miss being part of the British Empire.
Proprietor: (looking disgusted) Oh, certainly. (with heavy sarcasm) We will always be grateful to the British for bringing civilization to India. Without the British we wouldn't have fish and chips. Bangers and mash. Marmite sandwiches. (Pither is nodding agreeably.) For a thousand rupees each this town would go back to being part of your empire!
Pither: Thank you again for the excellent pakoras.
Proprietor: Remember what Ghandi said? It's better to be robbed blind by foreign rulers than to have home-grown politicians enrich themselves at the public's expense.
Pither: Did he really say that?
Proprietor: (curtly) No.