Multiply India Visit Day Sixteen, 18 Sept

"You look a lot better than you did when you arrived," Hephzi observes over breakfast.  "Hmm, my blog was so pedestrian that I commented that I may be on the point of total collapse," I agree.  "And the hearing-aid that's not been working suddenly decided to start again."  Mizoram and Myanmar were desperately wet, and the climate here in UAE would dry out anything .  The fact remains that I've shied away from conversations because I just couldn't rely on hearing adequately .  Daniel and I talk budgets, expenses and receipts.  "You know Greatheart, when I see how much of this goes into the visit, you really need to get someone to take it over," Steve chides.  Later, at the airport, we have a similar 'what-we'd-do-differently' and 'what-would-work-better' conversation.  It takes in baggage and clothing, gifts for people here, relative priorities in the use of our time, etc.  Maybe we'll get there for the February/March 2014 trip to Africa.  Certainly, I've carted around too many clothes, and a heavy and unnecessary church laptop. 

Daniel and Hephzi talk some more about their future.  I feel like we should have given them more opportunity.  There can't be many friends 'outside the scene' they can refer to.  We pray together and zoom the short drive to the airport.  I see Daniel waving furiously from the car window as we push the trolley towards check-in.  "Ooh, I must get a shot of a 777," Steve enthuses.  And then admits: "I clean forget to take a picture of Daniel and Hephzi".  What have we done to him?  I check the time, 9.30am, and realise Nathan and Sam will just be at Heathrow. 

I find it difficult to rest on the eight-hour trip.  A crammed schedule awaits me, and I won't really 'unpack' until Tuesday next week.  It's no consolation that John Biak was due to fly to the US within two weeks of returning home after leaving Yangon.  The meal offering is very Western, and tasty, too.  As we descend slowly into Manchester, the nose camera view on the video captures Derwent Water.  Yes, we've come right over the Snake Pass.  The lady across the aisle is twisting her hands in agitation.  After ten flights in two weeks, I can't raise any adrenalin about this final touch-down.  "Didn't you offer to pray for her?" Mary asks later. 

I give Sam a quick ring, and he's obviously been asleep.  "Did you get today off work?" I tease him.  "Listen, when can we get together for a debrief?" he counters.   I find out why Mumbai was a nightmare - they landed into Domestic Arrivals, but it's two miles distant from International Departures, then they were stopped by endless security checks.   Manchester beats its reputation for being painfully slow clearing arrivals, and Steve and I are soon at the rail link station.  "I'll probably see you tonight," I explain.  "I've got to travel down anyway, and it makes as much sense to come tonight.  Make sure Dave leaves the door open."
Mary rings me three times as a trundle out of the station in Sheffield: there are too many ways you can miss people arriving here.  I get a lovely reception from Jack and Harriet's kids, and challenge Grace to carry my case upstairs.  Within an hour, I've got another case packed and we leave for cell group.  Barrie will pick me up later, and drive us both to Kings House.  Over our meal, Phil and Donna fill me in about the 'vision review' Agenda that's been in full swing: it seems good progress. 

At Kings, I find Steve's case contents exploded around the room.  He's under his quilt, and sensibly an extra layer, too.  I find an incredibly thick blanket and snuggle under it gratefully.  At 4.15am, I wake up with cramp.  And the Malarone tablet I took (without a drink of water) has catalysed heartburn.  My body clock tells me this is a perfectly fine time to be getting up.   From past experience this will continue for three or four days.  Steve sleeps on.