The Queen of the Mountains may not have a sprightly spring in her step in the misty rains but that crown still sits firm on her dainty head. While it would have been unbelievably shocking if Darjeeling had not changed since 1978, which is when I last visited it, it was still a surprise that though the bustle and numbers have multiplied exponentially in these two decades, it doesn&rsquot seem to have degenerated into an ugly, loud, brash and dirty hill town, replete with grubby fast food joints, rook-the-tourist smooth-talking operators and all-the-world-is-a-garbage dump policy with hillsides of plastic packets. Neither, despite the rains that make it &lsquooff-season&rsquo for most tourists, is it empty, dank, sinister or boarded-up. On the contrary, there is a constant throng of cheerful souls going about their business through the day and a gentle winding down into a dark, peaceful and early night.