Chatting with Richard at Ahilya Fort &mdash which he started to restore, room by room, from 1996, inviting the first guest to stay in 2001 &mdash one realises that his concern, passion even, lies in the preservation of not just Maheshwar&rsquos weaving community, but the very physical and human geography of the town. There&rsquos a community involvement in how the town evolves, resisting a development that threatens its unique charm and its rich heritage, persuading local residents that the soul of the town needs to be preserved for not only their lives, but those of their children and grandchildren. The sanctity of Maheshwar&rsquos cultural heritage is perhaps epitomised in the ambience at Ahilya Fort, and in the kind of hospitality lavished upon you. The structure of the palace is as close to its original, retaining Ahilya Bai&rsquos almost bare simplicity, and moulding it into a rare aesthetic, creating a different reality from your everyday one, pulling you into a place frozen in an exquisite moment. Meals are served at different locations in the palace &mdash breakfast and evening drinks along the ramparts lunch at Lingachan, where Ahilya Bai would conduct prayer services and have hundreds of lingams made to immerse in the river or in the middle of a huge organic garden, in which grows most of what is served at mealtimes dinner in the lush Poshakwada, a courtyard used by the women in Ahilya Bai&rsquos time or by the pool, with the fort wall alight with scores of lamps as stunning backdrop. A staff, headed by the warm and efficient Kuntabai, sees that the palace is immaculately maintained and almost intuitively run. And then there is Richard, so much part of the experience of Ahilya Fort &mdash whether it&rsquos tossing pancakes for breakfast, or making himself available to talk about Maheshwar, or weaving, or food, or even his imminent grandfatherhood.