Multiply India Visit Day Five, 7 Sept - Not as planned for Steve or Daniel

Nathan ventured to the shopping mall behind our hotel, HHI, and came back with a couple of pairs of swimming shorts. Passing the pool on the way to the hotel's exercise room, I noticed the sign "Not Open - Maintenance Work".  I got started on the cross-trainer, when Nathan and Sam appeared, looking somewhat disappointed.  Sam headed for the running machine (aka hamster treadmill) and set off at a determined stride.  Nathan gave it a couple of minutes on another, prancing around skittishly, and then declared it "a lot of effort".  He then aimed for a weights machine and created a startling clang.  Meanwhile, Sam strode on.

After an icy shower, I returned to our room, hoping we'd agree on having an evening meal and then get to bed early.  My phone rang, and Steve's voiced crackled, "Greatheart, my battery's about to die. I've waited five hours for Daniel. I know his flight's been cancelled.  Please see if you can you can get him and text me back what's happening.  I haven't a clue."  He rang off.  My heart sank.

I tried to ring Daniel.  I only have his full international number, and how to ring him when we're both in India defeated me.  It had been the same trying to get Colney earlier, at the airport.  I scrabbled around in my papers and came up with two phone numbers for Lionel Daniel in Thrissur.  Same problem.  We really have nothing to thank EE for from their expensive roaming package.  I sent Daniel a text, asking him to contact Steve, and Steve one to say I'd failed to reach Daniel.

The other two had filled in the time having a long chat with one of the porters, and ended up praying with him.  The restaurant dinner was buffet style, with a singer doing live pieces.  Even at a fixed price, the bill came to more than our accommodation.  I went to bed with a heavy heart.  In the morning, I found I'd received a late text from Daniel, "Joined Steve at 10pm".

Multiply India Visit Day Five, Sept 7 - Not quite what we planned.

When we climbed Snowdon on Jack's birthday, I got up at 3.30am, earlier than I could ever remember.  This morning, the Big Ben bongs on my phone alarm rang out at 2.15am, and I was instantly awake.  All the lights were on, and I'd guessed right that Nathan and Sam would just stay up, pack, and get on their phones.  They'd had a great evening.  With Ram they'd circuited some central shops by Auto(rickshaw), and bought Sam's missus a sari.  Nathan was still sitting in his djipan and bare footed when the taxi arrived.  Steve got up for moral support.  You'd hardly call it springing into action, but we jammed our cases in the boot and were soon speeding through the night (and red traffic lights) the 30km to the airport.  At quarter to four we saw Bangalore terminal building.  And then, "Oh no, I've left my laptop under the bed," burst from the back seat. 

Our driver shook his head.  "Not enough time to go back."  "How about if we get a taxi to bring it over?" I asked.  Nathan was already on the phone to Steve, explaining the dilemma, while Sam rang the Noah's Inn reception, our driver contacted his Control.  "We can can pick it up and get it to Departures in an hour," he smiled.  "They'll give me the taxi number, and I'll ring you."  "Hang on, hang on," Nathan was urging Steve, who'd already located the laptop and was about to take it downstairs for collection.  "Sometimes it's hard being me," wailed Nathan.  "Join the new adventure," Sam added.

This blew any anxieties about baggage allowance clean out of my mind.  We negotiated our way past the customary door police and headed for the indicated check-in.  Wrong counters.  Bewildered we tried again further along.  I sent Nathan and Sam to meet the taxi, and stood guard over our trolley.  The door security sent them to find an airline official to vouch for their errand.  They reappeared with the laptop, then Nathan dashed off, extension lead in hand, to try to find some precious phone charge.  Sam had to pay the 5kg excess charge at another counter.  More time taken up.  As we were presented with two sets of boarding passes - for the flight to Kolkata and then quickly on to Aizawl, I caught Sam's eye.  "Three o'clock wasn't too early."

We joined a "Gentlemen's" queue at Security.  I was fine, but noticed that both Sam and Nathan were getting a grilling.  Everything had to come out of their luggage and was being carefully picked over.  I wondered if this equated to the kind of stop-and-search discrimination reputed on the UK's streets.  We just had time to grab a bottle of mango and a chocolate browny before the plane filled up for 6.40am departure.  "You can't allow too much time," Nathan shook his head.

We sat and waited, while banging and bumping suggested luggage was still being loaded.  Well over 20 minutes late, we took of into a cloudy morning.  With no evening meal last night, I was hungry.  But this was an economy flight, so no joy.  After about an hour we started the descent to lay over at Vishakhapatnam.  Again the take off was delayed.  For some reason I mused, "I wonder if this will mean we're too late for our second flight?"

We were.  In fact the take-of time had passed before we even taxi'd up to the terminal.  "This means a whole new game-plan," I stated to Nathan.  "Exciting!"  He beamed back.  "I'm thinking of retiring to an armchair to write my memoirs," I grunted.  "You can't do that - your blog's 'Not Rusting Away'."

The lady at the Jet desk was helpful.  I can transfer you to the same flight tomorrow.  We conceded.  She loaned me her phone to call Colney and break the news.  He was upset.  "Do you have somewhere you can go?" our helpful lady pressed.  She arranged a choice of two hotels, and we suggested that we grabbed a SubWay to work out some ideas.  It clicked.  "The travel insurance should pay for it all!"  A dapper little man in a dark suit offered his card: Hotel Hindusthan International.  He guided us out to the Pre-Paid taxi office, and soon we were bumping and honking our way the hectic 25km into Kolkata centre. 

The creaky yellow taxi seemed to take ages.  The level of sweltering heat and fumes rose inexorably.  Then it became apparent why - a visiting top politician meant that Police were everywhere and restricting traffic. 

The smart staff at the hotel took our baggage.  We were a pretty travel-stained offering, but we secured a shared room at a knock-down price including breakfast.  Nathan has it all on video for posterity, and dreams of the swimming pool.  I fancy a look at the gym.  Sam loves the spacious air-conditioning.  We're all glad of the wifi: our costly EE data package hasn't delivered anything the whole time - Bangalore or here.

So here we sit in a lay-by, until tomorrow's 7.00am taxi resumes the adventure.  I wonder how Steve and Daniel are getting on?

Multiply India Visit Day Four, 6 Sept

We'd booked breakfast for later, 8.00am, with chai.  When it came I was the only one about, though I could hear Steve in our bedroom.  It was pancakes, with a bowl of brown dip and a bowl of pale green dip.  Cautiously testing, both proved to be sharply spicy.  I resorted to my jar of Marmite, and a bruised apple from the bottom of my case, while I finished some conference session preparation.

Sam, our driver, arrived early.  Not even he could be induced to towards the untouched food.  When we seemed about ready, he asked how the guys had liked their djibans.  (I gather the generic term is Kurtas.)  And after a pause, he added that we were meant to wear them today!  This touched a tangle of emotions in me.  Although I was happy to respect Daniel E's kindness, I'd found my garment was very tight.  In fact I couldn't get it on without ripping out my hearing aids and nearly dislocating my shoulders, though I'd been assured, the finished effect was marvellous.  By contrast, Steve's different, ample, style flapped around like a pair of sheets on a washing line.  Clothes sizes have been a perpetual problem for me, even when I get stuff for myself.  So, I'm a bit touchy.

Sam hadn't got any photos on his own camera last night, so insisted that we did a round now.  It went: Sam standing with me and Steve taken by Nathan; then standing with Nathan and Sam taken by Steve; then the two Sams and me; and then the four of us standing outside taken by Sam himself.  It was worse then our Iranian members at a church national event.  Finally we pointed out that it was well past 10.00am, and he reluctantly led the way to the Tata.  As soon as we got out, he corralled us so one of the delegates could take an ensemble of Sam with the four of us - the shot he'd been trying to contrive all along.

The attendance in Daniel E's church hall was embarrassingly sparse.  But I've become used to these slow-burn starts, when the numbers pick up hour by hour.  Seemingly in India, people chip off sharpish after lunch, too.  This is a conference custom I've observed in UK amongst public sector workers, once they've got their attendance/CPD certificate signed.

We went into discussion about when the hired music kit should get returned to the shop.  Ram appeared again.  I couldn't help wondering if he'd been sent by the manager to keep an eye on things, but his participation was obviously genuine.  The rounds of raucous atonal attempts to stir up some enthusiastic singing died down.  There were extended introductions, a couple of songs from Nathan, and I did the official Multiply presentation.  Some good questions-and-answers followed.  During the welcome tea break, Daniel G slid alongside me and asked, "What shall we do next, Uncle?"

For weeks I'd been trying to explain to Steve that there'd hardly be such a thing as a conference programme.  We'd just work out what sessions and subjects that we'd tackle as we saw how may people were there, and what was stirring interest.  I suggested Steve should introduce 'spiritual fathering'.  "Look, Greatheart," he protested, I've been trying to tell you that I needed to know what we'd be doing.  I haven't finished going through the powerpoint you sent me on this."  But he'd attempted something, and that would have to do.  "You've got 55 minutes," I smiled.

He was brilliant.  The previous morning in the slums had pushed all the right buttons.  He'd sternly declared that a condition of coming on the trip would be to 'see the people as they really are', and that had been fulfilled.  There was a touching moment when a little lad wandered to the front and looked right up at Steve.  In the final minutes before lunch, Daniel arranged groups to answer three questions, and then collected feedback.

Over lunch, Daniel and I agreed we'd finish off what Steve's hour had left untaught, as this was obviously scratching where it itched.  Daniel had introduced me to a brother who works with Dwight Smith on church planting.  I've read his principles with interest.  I battled through Steve's bodged second half, with mis-shuffled slides and all.  But the crowd was happy to get some New Testament foundation to Steve's inspiring first half.  Suddenly it was all over.  Ram, Sam and Nathan delivered all the hire kit back at the shop, and arranged to 'see the boys in town' later.  Steve and I spent some time with Sylvia, the youth leader's wife.  Yes, she'd had a good night's sleep after we'd prayed around their apartment, next to the church, before leaving last night. 

Daniel G and I thrashed out who'd pay for what regarding our accommodation, taxi to the airport in the morning, and other outside-of-budget expenses.  We said one last goodbye to Daniel E and Betty and landed back at Noah's Inn.  Driver Sam came into the reception to negotiate the taxi.  "Three a.m. then: 1,180 rupees."  Steve and I wearily scattered our stuff around the bedroom ready to repack.  He and Daniel G would leave at 9.00am to fly to Kochin and head onwards to Thrissur.  All of us would face a domestic flight main luggage limit of 15kg, and the trick would be to jam as much as possible into our hand baggage - the opposite of our outwards flight.

We gave up on having anything to eat.  I survived on a chocolate bar, while Steve unearthed some wheaty biscuits and a jar of peanut butter from the depths of his tarty North Face canoe bag.  I made some last good use of the wifi, and then wrapped myself in my cotton sleepingbag liner aiming for four hours' sleep.  Steve thoughtfully switched off the light and headed for a shower in the other ensuite bathroom.  At around eleven, I heard Nathan and Sam return.  At this hour, I guessed, they wouldn't bother to go to bed.  I was right.

Multiply India Visit Day Three, 5 Sept

Ah, the tropical sunrise- so predictable.  I awoke as sunlight broke through our bedroom curtain.  Hmmm.  About 6.10." I guessed.  After a quarter of an hour's snooze, I squinted at the full daylight and our clock: 6.28.  The Noah's Inn staff brought in breakfast of omlette and bread-and-jam long before the other guys roused.

Some time later, Sam, our driver appeared.  We dodged motorbikes and random cows, and endured the endless sleeping policemen to arrive at Daniel E's church.  Then on into Bangalore centre, while Daniel G followed by auto-rickshaw with two conference delegates form Andhra Pradesh.  We circled the main bus station and then the main railway station.  I excitedly blurted to Sam, "I can't believe this.  We're going out in one of these coaches!" 

But I was wrong.  The correct version of the change of programme was, "We'll go to one of the outlying works in the slums", not the villages.  As Betty had explained this last night - at the top of her voice, to overcome the clatter from the large emergency diesel generator in the Indian Oil filling station right next to the church apartment.   

We threaded through the narrow path between the cramped and crammed-in regular concrete homes - each about four to five metres square.  Pigs, chickens, stray dogs, and assorted-aged playing children added to the movement and life.  A stinking pile of burning rubbish provided a subtle fragrance. 

I heard the sound of the PA before I saw the church, and thought it was an outdoor gathering.  But no, "Mind your head, Pastor", as I ducked in through a door.  Seemingly we'd arrived just in time for the opening prayers.  Everyone was kneeling on floor mats, as the only chairs were arranged atthe front for 'important people'.  It was just one of the regular living 'units', taken over.  Two fans whirred ferociously overhead, swinging from the scaffold pole that formed the roof truss.

I wasn't quite sure who was leading the affair, but a succession of brothers led a song or orated a prayer.  The PA was on full reverb, which meant we heard the end of every phrase three times where
they paused to draw breath.  Xmas tinsel decorated the roof and a large red cross was painted on the wall behind the full-on stage and lectern.  I'd jammed myself on the floor in a corner and tucked my chin  into my knees.  Slowly I realised that a natural segregation had occurred with men on the left and women plus infants on the right. 

It was great to simply be part of the atmosphere.  I did some thoughtful praying.  Steve raised his hands in worship and nearly lost his fingers in the fan.  But that wasn't going to last long, of course.  We were far too much celebrities to be passed over without saying something.  We were introduced as 'uncles' of various significance.  That is, except Nathan, who'd caught the attention of some scallywag, and had a guided tour of the whole township.  (I later learnt it's called Majestic, when I saw Mejastic on the local bus destination.)

We praised and sang under the increasing temperature and size of congregation (51, I counted, i.e. four people per square metre).  Daniel G shared a lovely story about a lady in his previous church who loved her two cows more than her (drunkard) husband.  We prayed for everybody (some several times, I estimate), and retired to another home for some fiery curry.  Nathan turned to me: "I left the video camera with the lad who was playing the drum.  It'll be alright, I s'ppose?"

We made a quick dash home to pick up all the kit for the evening concert.  Nathan had sussed out a friendly music store and was plundering their quality kit (not usually for hire), and inviting the staff to "come on down".  Quite a spectacle awaited us.  A colourful embroidered awning filled the space next to the church, and robust looking young people were milling around.

Set-up was a nightmare.  We hadn't got enough plugs, Daniel E had to dash out to hire a screen, and the couldn't see the words.  But we were underway just and hour and a half after the advertised time, and nobody seemed to mind.  Soon the 80 or so in at the start were 'leaning' jumping up and down and generally animated.  Sam gave his testimony, and the atmosphere was gripped, attentive and tender.  We prayed for lots of folks. 

Then they piled outside for (guess what) curry, while Steve engaged the youth leader and his wife in a great conversation.  It turned out that the cool young man, Ram, who'd efficiently taken charge of the music desk, was from the shop, at his first time in a church.  He'd loved it, and went off with  Sam and Nathan to show them round the town.

We were back home later than the night before.  But the Hotel wifi was working and Steve and 'caught up with stuff'.  Then, pretty late, the doorbell rang, and in walked Sam our driver and Daniel E's wife Betty.  She'd brought us each djipan (TBC).  This called for photos. 

Our morning lift will be 10.00am for the conference advertised to start at 9.00; but that seems okay.

Multiply India Visit Day Two, Sept 4

Within half an hour of setting up camp at 'Noah's Inn', Steve had already washed his shirt and socks. I found them hanging to dry in the shower.  He's really doing the 'travel' thing, and as a result has the smallest amount of baggage.  I was disappointed to find that the Velcro on my small documents security pouch was already half torn away from the plastic.  Sigh.

The two Daniels arrived back to take us for lunch.  We found a nearby family-friendly restaurant, with curry meals averaging 155 rupees (£1.50).  Daniel G negotiated the least spicy options, and threatened to sue the waiter if the fruit juice was diluted with ordinary (insanitary) water.  It was, "Eat with your fingers, guys," and I was proud of the orange stains on my fingers after two kebabs and dahl.

As we tucked in, Daniel announced that the plans for tomorrow's conference had been changed.  Instead of bible teaching, we'd be going out to Daniel E's daughter church areas to support his evangelists!  I've no idea how we'll transport the 40-50 delegates who'll be co-opted, some 50km out of the city to the surrounding villages.   He handed round the flyers printed for the conference: English one side, and Tamil on the other.

Nathan and Daniel E went off to the church building to check out the kit for tomorrow's concert, while the rest of us walked home in the sunshine.  Steve was busy videoing everything that moved, and Sam (the brickie) was taken up with the makeshift scaffolding on several buildings.

 The time on our hands was a bit frustrating, because getting Internet access has proved impossible, and we all needed to catch up with home.  Daniel G, Steve and I hammered out the format for Friday's much-compressed conference programme.  The characteristic swift tropic dusk fell, and the Inn staff brought in some more curry and chapattis, for our evening meal.  Without Daniel G's advocacy, this lot was more of a challenge.  We only made a half-hearted attempt.  I dropped some chicken on my teashirt and found it was instantly indelibly stained.  What are the linings of our stomachs going to look like?  Nathan arrived and announced he'd been stuffing himself with icecream and goodness know what.  (I found the left-over chapattis in the fridge the following breakfast time.)

Back in the trusty 4x4, the guys got their first taste of night life.  Shops open roughly 9.30am to 10.00pm, and the footpath were teeming with people.  We were on our way to meet Daniel E's family, living in the accommodation adjacent to the church building.  The building has been developed in phases since Daniel and his wife, a molecular biologist, took over in 2003.

Invited into their home, Betty immediately asked if we knew we'd be stopping for supper - rice, etc.  We declined in disbelief.  But, not to be beaten in hospitality, she brought in chai, plates of Indian cakes, and dishes of icecream.  I loaded a powerpoint of the church's work onto my laptop while Nathan led us in a couple of worship songs on the piano.  Then heavy rain began, and the power went off.  I think this nicely rounded off the guys' first day's "acclimatisation".

Daniel E grabbed a torch (which instantly attracted mosquitoes), and Betty duly talked about the church.  Nathan fell asleep.  Then, at Daniel G's suggestion we prayed for their impressive work.  I fell sleep.  And I noticed that Sam didn't pray.  Let's face it, we were well past it!

Daniel G took sympathy on us, and whizzed us off home.  I managed a text to wish Georgie happy birthday, and pass Mary some edited highlights, before setting my alarm for nine hours ahead!

Multiply India Visit Day One, Sept 3

I woke up about 2.30am, and didn't get much sleep after that.  So I surrendered to the sensible option of getting up, and the not-so-sensible option of trying to fit in a few last-minute things before heading for Sheffield train station.  This pitched me into the frustration of discovering that the video camera SD card was already almost full, but I couldn't delete 'other peoples' stuff, even after (thoughtfully) copying a backup.  Once on the train, I found how to do it from the camera menu.

Sam's missus Hannah had brought him, Steve and Nathan to Birmingham International.  They were all waiting in the concourse around a pile of very handsome luggage.  They mocked my red suitcase - a product of Springfield blagging as many as they could on Freecycle to go on the Multiply Nigeria trip, and having some spare.  Beggars can't be choosers.  Sam and Nathan staged an impromptu 'luggage jump' of the kind much beloved by motorcycle stunt riders.  They then followed on with some swing-the-trolley-case-round-in-a-circle-while-someone-leaps-over-it.  Schoolgirls with a skipping rope in the playground chanting, "Salt, pepper, vinegar, mustard..." came to my mind (but I didn't comment).

At check-in, disaster struck.  To a man, our hand luggage was way too heavy.  This was the product of my advice to 'keep your laptops with you at all times' in case the transfer baggage system failed on stopover flight.  So we frantically repacked until the Emirates man was happy.  And he managed to find us a block of four seats together.

As we negotiated our way through the duty free area we heard, "Hey, Jesus Army".  It was the daughter of a one-time Coventry member, who was tempting travellers we free squirts of fragrance.  Go on," she incited Nathan, and we all got dutifully drenched.  Probably not a bad thing for four guys about to spend 24 hours before reaching the next wash basin.

The flight wasn't full, and before long Nathan and Sam had spread out to nearby window seats to ooh and aah at Europe and beyond passing below.  Apparently the purple sunset over Baghdad was amazing.  The in-flight entertainment had a vast and bewildering selection.  I suggested to Steve that he could do worse than watch Top Gear India, but the Hobbit had his attention.  Quantum Leap on the Discovery Channel was the best value for my 30 minutes.

We reached Dubai at half-past-midnight, and the temperature was 34C.  We had three hour to kill.  Out of the air bridge, Steve realised he's lost his watch, so back-tracked to find it.  At that moment Nathan, too, realised he'd left his money belt on his seat, containing Passport and all.  I was found by a guy Nathan had got into a good conversation with - so he prayed with him and gave him his red cross.  I'd warned the guys that that airport would be like one vast department store at Xmas.  That barely does it justice.  Steve had been impressed by the in-flight meal, but adrenalin burn calls for fuel.  Nathan and Sam found a sushi emporium and Steve a more humble sandwich bar.  Together they blew their day's dollar allowance on not much more than a snack.  Tinsel-Town.

The onward flight to Bangalore found us too weary to attempt much more than doze.  This Boeing 777 had an older entertainment system, but there was a camera on the aircraft nose displaying onto a large cabin screen.  We were heading due east, and a spectacular dawn lit up.

Getting though customs was a nightmare.  Our hand luggage was innocent, but now our main baggage was stuffed with electronic gadgetry.  Nathan, Sam and all all had to disembowel our cases and bags until the officials - and my, doesn't India thrive on officials - were happy that we weren't a delinquent team of import busters.

Daniel G(rimmer) and Daniel E(dwin) met us at Arrivals.  We piled into Daniel E's veteran Tata 4x4, and bumped swayed and honked our way into the city.  He'd arranged for us all to stay in a vacant serviced apartment, Noah's Inn, that's run by a Christian.  Daniel G will fit in here, too.  He had some stuff to sort out, and left the guys snoring until lunch.

Multiply India Visit Starting Tomorrow

The Sunday morning event in Coventry delivered an 'announcements-fest'.  I was itching to give them a blast of 'Mad dogs and Englishmen' as part of a substantial spot on the trip.  But Andy asked if he could make an extended sharing about changes to Sunday nights' programme.  To add to the distractions, Iain was positioning three large cardboard boxes at the front to collect items for the container going to Sierra Leone.  One was marked 'Kids', and there was an obvious interpretation that disaffected parents could do some sort of trade-in.  And then they were due to have a Jesus Centre housekeeping day.  "Well we'll just have to cut the bible teaching, and perhaps opening worship, to get all this in..." I jousted with Andy.

The meeting started well.  The band gave us a good lead on Jesus Culture's 'Worthy is the Lamb'.  I was proud of Gav, and it was good to coincide with Rob's busy schedule.  Simon followed on by sharing how he found himself floored by the perceived chaos of the imminent changes in the Region.  I wondered if Noel Coward may not seem too irreverent.  For the uninitiated, here's the words.

In tropical climes there are certain times of day
When all the citizens retire, to take their clothes off and perspire.
It's one of those rules that the greatest fools obey,
Because the sun is far too sultry and one must avoid  its ultry-violet ray --
The natives grieve when the white men leave their huts,
Because they're obviously, definitely nuts --

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
The Japanese don't care to, the Chinese wouldn't dare to,
Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one, but Englishmen detest a siesta,
In the Philippines they have lovely screens, to protect you from the glare,
In the Malay states there are hats like plates,  which the Britishers won't wear,
At twelve noon the natives swoon, and no further work is done –
But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

It's such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see,
That though the English are effete, they're quite impervious to heat,
When the white man rides, every native hides in glee,
Because the simple creatures hope he will
impale his solar topee on a tree.
It seems such a shame that when the English claim the earth
That they give rise to such hilarity and mirth –

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
The toughest Burmese bandit can never understand it.
In Rangoon the heat of noon is just what the natives shun.
They put their scotch or rye down, and lie down.
In a jungle town where the sun beats down, to the rage of man and beast,
The English garb of the English sahib merely gets a bit more creased.
In Bangkok, at twelve o'clock, they foam at the mouth and run,
But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

Mad dogs and Englishmen, go out in the midday sun.
The smallest Malay rabbit deplores this foolish habit.
In Hong Kong, they strike a gong, and fire off a noonday gun
To reprimand each inmate, who's in late.
In the mangrove swamps where the python romps
there is peace from twelve till two.
Even caribous lie around and snooze, for there's nothing else to do.
In Bengal, to move at all, is seldom if ever done,
But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday, out in the midday [x7]  sun.

You can hear the original on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BifLPGi4X6A

On the journey home, I substantially relaxed.  My last official duties before getting round to packing were done.  Sharon had given me a wad of US dollars, and Iain the decent video camera, so bits seemed to be falling into place at last.

Very early today I was awakened by Colney texting to say he'd like us to bring some wristbands (Jesus Revolution, etc) for his wife.  Mercifully, I drifted back to sleep.  I can report to Kelly that I'm getting into better shape.  When I rang Resources to place an order, Ruth announced that the Farm Household would be spending the evening packing for Nathan.  Great back-up.  Hannah even sent me a copy of the travel and medical insurance policy.

I managed a successful first fill-up of my luggage before doing my usual Monday morning admin at the Jesus Centre.  The case for check-in tipped 18kg with just a pair of shoes and pair of trousers to go.  That's not going to create too much problem when we transfer to domestic flights in the middle of the trip.

Who knows, I may even get an hour on the cross trainer before bedtime tonight.