Economic Hardship

I've waited a long time to write this post. I wanted to wait until my blood stopped boiling from another post I read written by someone else some place else. You know who you are.


I waited because I didn't want to be overly emotional but I reckon that even after waiting this long that is going to be hard to do.


Sure there are people out there who live beyond their financial means and use their credit cards when they should be using cash. They buy houses they can't afford and Starbucks every morning instead of their utilities every month. They overindulge their children with expensive toys never teaching those children the value of money. These people are irresponsible and should suffer the consequences of their bad decisions.


These are not the vast majority of people suffering from the current economic landscape.

The people suffering are those who have managed their money carefully making sure to put away a little bit each month into their emergency fund for a rainy day and a little bit more towards their retirement fund. But the fact that wholesale gas prices have risen from $25/barrel to over $120 in just 5 years has meant that you have to make a decision to pay either the gas or the electricity because you simply can't afford both. The same price increase has meant that people can't afford to fill up their cars with fuel to get to work. and don't give me that nonsense about go buy a car that gets better gas mileage. If they had the money to buy a new car they'd pay their gas and electricity. and the increase of food prices at the grocery store have risen by over 7% in 6 months have meant that their food bill has gone up so dramatically they no longer have money for retirement or rainy days. They struggle to pay a mortgage on a home they've paid for 10 years due to the misguided attempt to control inflation with interest rate manipulation.

You can live in your big cushy house with your big salary smiling that smug smile whilst you look down on those who have less than you warm with the feeling that you currently reside at the top of the economic pyramid. I hope that you never lose your job particularly as you get older and the younger generation proves your ideas old fashioned, skills obsolete and your experience irrelevant. I hope your family is blessed with good health and no one close to you is critically injured or diagnosed with a terminal illness not covered by your medical insurance or for which there is no cure. Heaven forbid you even find yourself in the middle of the pyramid because the path from the middle to the bottom appears to be getting shorter every day.

In the meantime I am looking for pennies in the sofa.

Wealth

A fabulous article for those of you who want to be millionaires (and who doesn't?).

Editors Note: Thanks Clare Bear!

Giving

Before buying another present for someone who doesn't need or want it, visit Kiva.

And give. Generously.

The Last Juror by John Grisham

I got bored with John Grisham years ago. His plots were the same he just changed the names and the genders of his main characters. My favourite Grisham novel was actually his first novel, A Time to Kill, which was re-released after the runaway bestseller, The Firm, which was later made into a film starring Tom Cruise.


So I've skipped the last 10 or so Grisham cookie cutter novels, particularly after his cookie cutter novels became cookie cutter films.


The Last Juror was given to me by Gill after she had powered through it and thought I might enjoy the quick read. And I did indeed!


Willie Traynor is a 23 year old, who just happens to have a rich aunt and be perhaps the luckiest fictional characer I've read about in the last 10 years. He also happens to be the bravest when he takes over the local small town paper to starts telling the stories no one else is telling, eg local corruption, racism, school integration. The story really takes off when a young widow with 2 small children is murdered. It's an open and shut case against a young man who just happens to be a member of a renowned family of hoodlums. But then he vows revenge on those who sentenced him.


The novel is filled with wonderful caracaitures of southern eccentrics, my favourite being Callie Ruffin. Like all of Grisham's novels, it is set in the south and the story starts its telling in the 1970s which must have been an incredibly interesting time to be in the south (of the USA, people!). The ending is sweet although I saw the twist coming a mile away.


This is one of those page turning, read in a couple of hours, entertaining books. Not gonna change your world but a whole lot of fun!

The Rug

I've been meaning to post a photograph of my rug. If you don't know what I'm talking about read this.

The beautiful purchase arrived as promised right on time and has had pride of place in the lounge. It is soooo soft both the children and I love taking our shoes and socks off and walking around on it. the only challenge we have is keeping Bailey (the dog) off of it!

Gorgeous, isn't it?

Shopping Fun

My shopping trip did not end in tears. For once I had more in my dressing room that fit than I could afford (or wanted to afford) to buy.

I had to carefully restrain myself to not buy more than I needed to get me through the next couple weeks. I bought just what was on my list (another top tip from the stylist). I bought things in sizes much smaller than I thought I was although I have to confess I was massively annoyed at the inconsistency in sizes even within the same store. I had one pair of size 10 (US 8) that fit but a size 14 (US 12) that didn't both in the Gap. What's up with that? It sure doesn't make shopping very easy!

I went to my diet group meeting feeling like I was looking gooooood. First time in a long time I went anywhere feeling proud of my appearance.

I can hardly wait to do some more shopping! Boy, never thought I'd hear myself say that again.

Clothing Crisis

My wardrobe has dwindled to next to nothing, which is a good thing but also a bad thing. It means all my fat clothes have gone to new homes. It also means I've got nothing to wear. And I mean nothing.

I've still got 26 pounds to go so I know that in a few months I will need to replace anything I buy but equally I've got to buy because everything is falling off me.

I've been able to nick a few things from the fat club (diet group) hand me down bags but I am in serious trouble.

I rewarded myself with the advice of a professional stylist this week. She did my colours (which instinctually I knew) and advised that every woman must have great fitting bras (which I also knew - see bra post). But she did give me some great advice that I have haphazardly and at my peril ignored for the last 44 years of my life.

1. Wear your trousers long, especially if you are short. Your ankle bone (that round sticky outy thing on the side of your ankle) should never see the light of day if you are wearing trousers. So I guess that is the end of my cropped trousers which are the only trousers I have in my wardrobe. Doesn't break my heart so much as they are hanging off me anyway but they are the only trousers in my wardrobe right now.

2. If you find trousers that fit really well and you really like them buy 2 pairs of them at the same time. Have one pair altered to fit when wearing heels and the other for flats to ensure adherence to rule number 1.

3. Buy jackets in bold colours to jazz up anything. Make sure the jacket fits and if it doesn't get it altered.

4. Find a good seamstress for all these alterations and keep her.

5. Don't wear black up against your face without breaking it up with a scarf or a bold necklace.

6. Skirts should stop either at the slimmest part of your leg (for me this is much longer than I usually wear) or just above the knee (but only in the summer).

7. Get a pedicure once a summer (at the least).

Then stylist then went through my wardrobe. I knew this wasn't going to take long. There isn't anything there! It was nice to know I wasn't doing so badly on my own but a little heart breaking to know that a few of my favourite pieces needed to go to new homes. I've got a list of essential items she made for me to get me through the next few months and we are off today to procure those items.

I've got high hopes of this not ending in tears like so many previous shopping trips of late. I refused to go shopping when I was fat(ter) unless I absolutely had to (eg underwear). I have now purchased some rather flash (and a wee bit sexy) knickers which are meeting with Marc's approval. The last time I went into the shops was just before my trip to India and I wasn't as small as I was hoping I was but I've lost 11 pounds since then so I should not be disappointed.

I've made 3 piles of clothing: 1) Favourites that can be altered for the seamstress 2) Donations to the fat club 3) Suitable to be sold on eBay to fund my new wardrobe

All of those will be delivered to their rightful places by Tuesday next week.

Oh and I got my haircut. Really cut. So cut that even the men in my office noticed.

The future is so bright, I gotta wear shades!

Bras

Men might want to skip this post and red the one about baseball instead. Or if you want to be particularly enlightened to the trials of tribulations of being a woman feel free to read on. I’m not proud.

With all this weight loss going on, my bra situation had reached critical mass (no pun intended). My puppies were hanging down to my navel. I have lost nearly 5 inches around my back and my cup size had significantly decreased. The back was riding up to my neck and the straps were generally falling down around my elbows. The cups were so big I could have stuffed a small animal in them to keep my puppies company.

I was trying to be thrifty and make due with the bras I had. Knowing that I still have at least 27 pounds to go, I have no doubt that I will have to make a further investment if I buy now.

And bras are an investment at my size. It’s not like I can just pop out to WalMart and purchase a 34H….yes, you read that right – H.

I decided I just couldn’t make do any longer. I made an appointment with Rigby & Peller, the famed London store for all things bra related. This store is noted for their personalised and accurate no nonsense fitting service. Oh, and they have a royal warrant. If the bras are good enough for the Queen, they are good enough for me.

Marc & the children dropped me off at the curb and I went in. In no time I was in front of the mirror with a woman man handling my puppies into an appropriate bra and I was out of the store within 30 minutes.

My puppies are now fully contained and maintaining their position rather well. The bra is comfortable (well, as comfy as bras get) and I haven’t had to pull the straps up or the back down once today. I know a return trip will be required in 4-5 weeks but right now it is worth it.

The B-Word

Can you believe we are more than halfway through May and I haven't even mentioned the B-word on my blog? Not even once since spring training started in March. But I can't hold back any longer.

The Red Sox and Cubbies are both in first place in their division but the Rockies are struggling down in third. the critics are having a field day saying it proves the fluke of their World Series appearance lat year. Well, fluke or no fluke I was proud of them to just get there. I get to watch 2 games/week over here and am seriously considering subscribing to mlb live over the internet. problem with this is I am asleep for most games.....so it doesn't really work for me.

We are going to be in the states for nearly 3 weeks this summer. In the schedule, we've got plans to catch 1 game in Colorado. I wonder if my family would be cross if I sit in front of the television watching baseball all day/all night every day. Yeah, that probably won't go down so well.

Sebastian has started batting practice in the back garden. He's good. Do scouting agents come over here?

Oh, how I love the boys of summer!

Motivation

Everyone keeps asking me how I did this and telling me they could never do it.

Well, let me tell you something, the answer to both questions is the same: It all depends on how much you want it. Until you want it so bad it hurts, it probably won't happen.

Marc and I will be going to the St George's School Summer Ball in June and I didn't want to the be largest woman in the room again. Maybe that is a slight exaggeration but it is how it felt to me. I didn't want to cry in the dressing room whilst I tried on dress after dress after dress and be massively horrified that I could find nothing that helped cover my bumps and bulges without exposing other bumps and bulges. In recent years, this has been one of the most mortifying experiences.

The other big motivational factors was when I was sitting amongst a group of women who started discussing fat people and how disgusting they were (I'm paraphrasing) among other critical statements about the sex life of fat people. All of these women are slim and trim and they had either completely forgotten I was fat or I had put on my invisibility cloak and they didn't realise I was in the room. I cried all the way home thinking these women, some who I have known for nearly 8 years and who I thought were my friends, think I'm disgusting.

That was it. It was the next day that I made the commitment to do something about it. Now I'm doing this for me. I feel great. I am looking better. A man from the office that I barely know (except in passing) walked up to me in the corridor the other day and told me he kept thinking to himself something had changed. Then he said he realised I had dropped a massive amount of weight and looked great. What a sweet thing for him to say.

I read a few months back that fat people are less successful at their careers. I decided to put that to the test. I looked at all the people who are above me in the corporate food chain and you know what? Not a single one of them is overweight. Not even a little bit.

Working mums have a tougher go at this weight management issue. I would love to spend my mornings at the gym and my afternoons at the tennis court and my evenings taking a run. OK, maybe not all on the same day but this isn't even an option for me. Carving out even 30 minutes for exercise presents some challenges for me since I rarely have 10 minutes to myself before 9 pm (not exactly prime exercise time).

I know once I hit my goal weight the journey is not over. I've registered for the Running4Women Windsor 8K on 20 September and my training starts today! If anyone wants to be a running buddy, please let me know! I could use the encouragement (and pressure to train). I did this run 2 years ago and am hopeful I can better my time especially since when I ran it then I was 12 pounds heavier than I am now! I was just happy to finish it without dying. This year I have loftier goals.

I'm on currently on day 77, only 23 more days to go. I've got a fair amount of anxiety around going back to normal food. Carbohydrates in particular scare the living daylights out of me. I've started my weekly meal planning for post program success. I will undoubtedly still have about 15 or so pounds to go so managing this without the assistance of my shakes and bars will prove a challenge.

I have started taking this into consideration with my weekly meal planning. For the last 12 weeks I've written the meal plans for Marc and the children with the sole intention of minimising the effort Marc would have to put into the cooking since he had to do this on his own. I didn't want him to have to work too hard. But now the meal plans beyond week 14 have to consider my dietary requirements as well as maintaining something that my children and husband will eat and still doesn't take 4 hours to prepare. This hasn't been easy. My kids aren't so keen on salads.

I'm having a major wardrobe crisis. I have 4 pairs of trousers that sort of fit. In fact they are too big but I can manage to keep them up with a drawstring waist. None of my jeans fit me any more. I've got 4 skirts which are great for work (but not so good for mummy duty). I've got a dozen long sleeve shirts and about the same number of short sleeve shirts. None of it really goes together very well. Even all my pajamas are way too big. I really don't want to go spend money on wardrobe items when I know I still have 28 pounds to go but recognise that at some point I will have buy some interim items. I just hate wasting the money.

But I tell you I am soooooo looking forward to the Summer Ball. I haven't bought my dress yet. I haven't even started looking. I've enlisted the help of a stylist and she is excited to help me navigate this anxiety ridden journey. What should be amusing is that I intend to have a glass of wine (or two) on the evening. This will be the first alcohol I will have had in over 100 days. I suspect this should be fairly entertaining for those around me. Top tip (from a concerned bystander) was to mix the wine with some soda water. Now, who would do this to a great glass of wine? Some friends have offered to ensure I stay standing upright. Now with friends like that, what else do you need? (Besides a killer dress!)

Freakonomics by Levitt & Dubner

I gave this book to my husband for Christmas last year. He read it in just a few days which if you know my husband is a pretty strong endorsement for a book. Or maybe not since he reads Jeremy Clarkson books with the same enthusiasm. (Americans won't get that reference - don't worry about it).

I managed to read this in just a few days as well and found it fascinating. It wasn't quite what I expected....actually it was nothing like I expected but it did put forth a couple of thought provoking ideas.

Levitt is a well respected economics prodigy and Dubner is a journalistic friend who thought he could help Levitt tell his story and explain his theories to the masses.

The theory that legalised abortion caused the remarkable reduction in crime rates in the early 90s is perhaps one of the most controversial. The discussion of corruption amongst sumo wrestlers is a somewhat amusing but how this technique was used to eliminate cheating teachers from the Chicago school system was inspirational. It is a shame that the theory about how the KKK was brought down proved later to be based on an urban myth but hey, when your data set is flawed, what's an economist to do?

One of the authors' objectives in writing this book was not so much to prove or disprove various correlations between data sets but more to get people questioning conventional wisdom and asking the right questions.

This is was most certainly a fascinating read. And it only takes a few short hours to get all the way through it. I recommend it if you are willing to look at the world from a different perspective.

The Sound and The Fury by William Faulkner

WARNING: This book is not for the faint hearted or the literary challenged.

I struggled through that first chapter like I've never struggled before. I wanted to curl up under a rug and I hide knowing that this was my choice for book group this month and the ladies in my group were going to hate it and/or refuse to finish it.

Both were true (ish).

I found the first chapter completely baffling and thought maybe I had lost the ability to read. I quickly sought solace in the internet and found some reading guides (like Cliff Notes) online. Ah, then it started to make a bit of sense.

I found everyone struggles through that first chapter.

The story is about the Compson family in 1920s and each chapter is told by a different member of the family (although technically the last chapter is the narrated by the author). The first chapter is told by Benjy, the mentally handicapped brother of Quentine, Caddie and Jason. Their father has died and their mother is either a hypochondriac or the laziest woman ever as she spends their entire life in bed. The children are cared for by their black housekeeper, Dilsey, and the various members of her family.

The first chapter is told by Benjy which is why it is such a complete random stream of consciousness.

The second chapter, told by Quentin, was easier although similarly baffling but now that I understood that Faulkner is playing with time and memory, I relaxed a bit and just let the words pour over me like a hot shower on a cold morning. This chapter thrilled me because it is where I found Faulkner's most beautiful writing. the pages of the second chapter are littered with me highlighting as I read page after page of beautiful words. You don't realise until well into the third chapter that Quentin commits suicide at the end of the second chapter at which point you gotta go reread what he's written.

The third chapter is told by Jason, a bitter, sick, and twisted man. Although this chapter is well ordered and time and place make sense, this was my least favourite chapter but only because I hated Jason.

The book takes place over 4 days and ends. It just ends. There's no finding of the missing Caddie or Quentin (her daughter, not her brother). There's no morality tale. You don't know the whys or wherefores. It just ends.

Faulkner writes the first two chapters largely in stream of consciousness which I find so incredibly difficult to read. He also moves through time the way you recall memories (not in any particular order). He also gives the same name to multiple characters. i don't think Faulkner wrote this novel to be read. I think he wrote it for his own pleasure. And if we all happened to like it well all the better.

I am glad I read this. I am more glad that I invested the considerable amount of time and effort to understand it a bit better. I have a feeling this is one of those books that gets better with multiple readings. I feel that I have had to reread so many parts of the book to help me get what was going on that I have already read it at least 3 times but I suspect it will be one of those works that I pick up again in a few years and give another go.

Some critics have called this one of Faulkner's greatest works. He is considered by some the greatest American novelist of all time. I haven't read anything else he has written so I can't offer up an opinion here. But I can recommend that you give it a go. It's not a long book. But a word of warning. Get a reading guide from the internet and read it first. Don't worry, you won't spoil the ending but you will increase your chances of actually finishing the novel and maybe even increase your understanding of this baffling piece of literature.

Book Group Verdict: Only 2 people finished it (I didn't even finish it). One loved it. One didn't understand it. The others gave up 20 pages or so into the first chapter. Next month will be a much easier endeavour: The Outcast by Sadie Jones.

Halfway and Then Some

I've now lost half the weight towards my goal. I reach this milestone with a mixture of joy and frustration.

I am on day 70 which means that I've not eaten proper food for 70 days. Phew! There are been some genuine white knuckle moments but I am pleased that I have stuck with it and know I can manage the next 30 days without too many challenges. I mean, if I've made it this far why would I give up now, right?

On the other hand, I am frustrated to the core that having not eaten for 70 days my weight loss has been significantly below the expected weight loss for the program. I should be losing .5 pound/day or 3.5/week. I haven't. I lost far less.

My mind gets in my way and I start thinking I could lose this without the starvation element. I start thinking I could eat sensibly and exercise and lose even more.

But then I convince myself that I've got to stick to my commitment to myself to finish the 100 days and this morning I find myself going to yet another meeting of my "group".

I know that at the end of the 100 days I'll still have at least 20 pounds to go to my goal weight and realise that I will have to keep working beyond 8 June to lose those final pounds.

Oh, give me strength!

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Finish every day and be done with it.


You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities crept in; forget them as soon as you can.


Tomorrow is a new day; You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

Over 1000 pages......are you kidding me? Despite Oprah's urgings I had resisted reading this book simply because of its heft. I couldn't bear the thought of either carrying the book around or trying to hold it up as I read it in bed. But the enthusiastic urgings of various friends and other book reviews encouraged me to forget my misgivings and give it a go. I've carried this weight to Toronto and back and now all over my epic Indian Safari.

And I am glad I did. This was a history lesson and provided fascinating insight into the life of the resident of 12th century England (with a little bit of France thrown in for good measure).

I've heard that many of Ken Follett's previous books are filled with a cast of thousands and can be difficult to manage as a result. This book is no different. There is a cast of thousands; thousands of monks and landed gentry, and peasants, and royalty. The drama takes you from the rolling hills and forests of southern England to the religious pilgrimages to Spain and beyond and then back to the building of Notre Dame. And yet the subtle weaving of the stories of these lives is captivating. The lives of this cast of thousands cross paths time and time again making small and big differences to the outcomes of their lives.

Each character is lovingly developed with attention to the individuals. No shallow characters here. And no gross generalisations either. The characters never become parodies even the evil William and the alleged witch Ellen.

I wish I knew more about architecture before I started reading it but I certainly know more about architecture having read it. The purpose behind flying buttresses is now abundantly clear. I feel I understand better the purpose behind building those epic cathedrals.

Civil war, famine, bad weather, and greed/corruption of church officials and barons had a direct impact on the lifestyle of everyone and it appears to have been extremely difficult to escape the varying degrees of destruction and strife each one left.

My favourite character was Aliena, a member of a royal family, appearing initially as spoilt rotten, who loses her royal status, nearly starves and is brutally raped but finds deep inside her a survivor spirit and fights back year after year through hard work and brute determination to establish herself as a self sufficient woman making a fundamental contribution to society. Eventually she finds within herself the capability to love which had long been suppressed. She was such a strong character I loved and admired her.

The only disappointment is the very last chapter. Thomas Beckett appears out of nowhere and the story ends with a neat and tidy moral lesson. It took away from the rest of the book which seemed to be more about the fact that life isn't always fair.

Despite that one minor complaint, I highly recommend this book, especially if you are into historical fiction. Like The Other Boleyn Girl, this story has its roots in history although, I have no doubt, considerable literary license has been taken. Many of the characters a directly from our history books, eg King Stephen and Thomas Beckett, but others, eg Tom Builder and Prior Phillip, are purely from the author's imagination. My complaint is how do I know what is real and what is imagined. But this only causes me to read more.

City Comparison

Each of the cities I have visited in India have been fundamentally different. It has almost felt like I have been visiting different countries. Oh sure, there are some things which have been the same (everyone communicating on the streets with the excessive use of the horn and the overwhelming traffic) but each and every city has made a very different impression on me.

Chennai: The infrastructure of this city has got some serious problems. Everywhere you looked was a construction projects, not just buildings but pipes, roads, homes. The tsunami seriously damaged the area and the rapid growth of the IT industry has meant this city has got to work hard. This was the only city where the power seemed to give out several times during each day, not for long but for a few minutes. There appears to be very few Westerners here. I think I can count the number of white people I saw on my ten fingers. Hands down though, this wins for best hotel and location. Fisherman's Cove and the beach are a wonderful place to relax after a long day although it is far removed from the daily life of your average Indian. I struggled to envision what life is like for the Indian residents of this crumbled city. About 3 out of 5 people wear motorcycle helmets when traveling by motorbike. It is hot and humid, the most humid by far.

Bangalore: I had but one brief opportunity to see this city on one trip into the city centre when I met colleagues for dinner. The centre is very modern and urban. Lots of lights and shopping centres. There are lots of Westerners both in the airport and at the restaurant we ate in. In fact, if I recall correctly every table had a Westerners at it. Maybe that's the restaurant for taking all Westerners. The traffic was the worst here. About 4 out of 5 people wear motorcycle helmets when traveling by motorbike. It was much cooler especially at night than Chennai.

Pune: This city is green and mountainous. More so than any other city I visited. It seems to have a combined urban/rural feel to it. No one wears motorcycle helmets. It was hottest here but no humidity. There were loads of Westerners. The hotel air conditioning had 2 speeds: off and deep freeze. At one point in the night I awoke shivering and turned it off. I woke a few hours later being viciously biten by mozies. The deet came out in force. One of the most disconcerting moments was when waiting for my flight to Mumbai in the Pune airport the electricity went out for more than 5 minutes. OK, that's not really reassuring. Every city (except Mumbai had power outages whilst I was there but at least it didn't happen whilst I was waiting to catch a flight. Eeeeke!

Mumbai: This city clearly has the best infrastructure and the most Westerners, mostly business men appearing to do the same type of work I do. I sat between 2 white men on my flight here and it was nearly all white people in business class on the way home. We encountered very little traffic on the way to the airport although granted I spent the least amount of time here. Oddly, the domestic terminal of the airport is nicer than the international terminal. There are very few motorcycles and it wasn't all that hot. They seem to generally obey the traffic signals here which is a first.

I have numerous mosquito bites, mostly on my feet (think I missed those with the deet spray) and will continue to take my anti-malaria pills for a week. I only had a couple diarrhea incidents (not bad for 1 week, I reckon). I was not involved in any road traffic accidents (the greatest miracle of all). I was not mugged.

I was deeply annoyed by the tipping culture, ie everyone (sometimes up to 3 people at a time) wanted to help me with opening doors, moving my luggage, etc and each and everyone of them expected a tip including employees of the airport/airlines. The greatest expense easily was tipping all these people when in fact I didn't need or want any help. I get the poverty but let's put these people to work on the infrastructure and stop the corruption.

I have expanded my horizons somewhat although to say I saw India would be a mistake. I saw what corporate India wanted me to see: nice hotels, nice taxi cabs, nice offices, nice restaurants. Everywhere I went was clean and air conditioned.

The middle age in me is relieved to be home safely but the adventurer in me yearns to go back and pull off the covers to experience the real India. I want to take my children. I want them to see the world as it is beyond their private school, big home and nintendo/Wii.

I slept like a log in my bed last night. My own sheets, my own pillows, no mosquitoes. It's great to see the world but it is greater to be home with the ones I love and who love me.

The Unexpected

I arrived in Mumbai expecting the worst leg of my journey to be my last one. I'd heard the horror stories of Bombay travel and was not looking forward to the last night before my return journey home.

Boy, was I in for a surprise.

1. The domestic arrivals terminal of the airport is modern. And clean. And huge. The toilet even had toilet paper which no other airport has had. I didn't get hassled to help with my bags (which comes with the requisite expectation of a tip for pushing a trolley which I am quite capable of myself, thank you very much.

2. There was no or very little traffic. I arrived at my hotel within 20 minutes with no traffic jams and no scary driving. My driver only used his horn once.

3. I am staying at the InterContinental which is a humongous hotel. It is beautiful and everyone I have spoken to in the hotel has been very friendly. When my luggage was brought up and I gave the bell boy his tip, it was the first time anyone has ever said thank you or didn't ask for more.

4. The spa managed to get me a massage appointment for 9:30 pm which was divine and set me up perfectly for my return trip home. These massages are such a great bargain. I've paid less than £20 for a 60 minute massage!

5. I have just walked through the largest and most enticing food buffet I have ever laid eyes upon. I resisted the temptation and didn't touch the food but it was definitely a white knuckle moment!

My Indian Safari is drawing to a close and I will be home within the next 24 hours with any luck at all!

Time Zones

Explaining that I am in a country nearly half way around the world is a difficult concept for a child. Add to that the notion of time zones. Well, that's just nearly impossible.

Any ideas on how to explain time zones to children (age 4 & almost 7)?

Airport Security for Women

The whole concept of airport security is done quite differently here in India. They don't care so much about liquids, ie no one has asked to see my little baggy of 100 ml liquids but lighters and matches are still banned unlike in the UK where it is exactly the opposite.

When you enter the airport you checkin luggage is taken from you and scanned. Then given back to you with either a tie around it or a sticker across the zip. You then go to the ticketing counter and hand over the bags.

Then you go through gate security and here in India there is a separate line for airport security for women. I keep forgetting and getting in the wrong line. But the men stare at me and point towards the correct line, so eventually I figure it out. Duh!

The difference is that the queue is shorter. Few women seem to travel. Your carry on luggage must be tagged and once it is screen the tags get stamped. Then there is a curtained off booth which you enter after the metal detector where female security personnel do the body search. And then they stamp your boarding ticket.

Once you are fully stamped up, you are free once again to mingle with the men.

PS The airports are surprisingly small. Only 5-7 gates for departure. They make announcements over the PA when your flight is boarding which is slightly nerve racking because I really have to work hard to understand the accent. Only 2 more airports to go!

Near Catastrophe

I have no photos of Bangalore. At all. The place where I was staying was in the supplier campus and prevents all photography. So I can't prove that I was there except the plane ticket. Since I took an internal flight I can't even show you a stamp in my passport. I could be sitting on the beach in Brighton. But I'm not. It is Thursday so this must be Pune and it is 100 degrees F (40 c).

I am shattered. Yesterday my meetings started at 8:30 and went straight through dinner until 11:00 in the evening. In fact in the taxi drive home I had to announce that I was tired of working and could we please talk about something else, anything else.

I was relieved to get back to the hotel but not looking forward to packing, checking out and the airport tango consisting of queues, loads of people jostling for position, baggage tags, and the crushing fear of someone stealing one of your bags when you’ve turned your back for just a second. The whole rushing to the front of the queue is something I just don't get. I mean we all have to get on the plane so it doesn't really matter if you are at the front of the queue or the back of the queue, plane leaves when we are all seated (with our seat belts securely fastened).

I didn’t sleep well. I rarely do the night before I have to catch an early morning flight. I’m always afraid I am going to oversleep. I woke up every hour and had to turn on the light to check that the alarm clock was still working.

When the alarm went off and I drug myself out of bed and got down to the front desk.

I patiently waited until it was 10 minutes past the expected arrival time of my taxi. I then asked the man at the front desk to ring the taxi and see when it was expected to arrive. He did and then panic set in.

They had no booking for me. I was on the company campus and there was no way to hail a cab. My supplier had taken an earlier morning flight to Hyderabad and besides he’s British so he couldn’t help me. I asked the front desk to ring one of the people I had dinner with last night he was trying to find out what had happened but he was running out of time.

A man (I assume an employee of the supplier) comes out of the hotel and says he is going to the airport and will share a car. There is a wee little car waiting for him. My big suitcase takes up the entire boot. All the other luggage is piled into the back seat which I position myself around. There is no air conditioning so the front windows are open and my hair is flying away whilst I sit in the back seat and try to contain my complete and utter anxiety attack. The roads we take are the back roads and they are dirt. Dust is all over my clothes. At one point I text my husband. He sends through alternative flight times to Pune (he’s a saint and if I ever complain about it remind me of this moment). I text him that I am not entirely sure I am headed to the airport. My mobile then stopped sending texts. I realise I haven't been receiving email since the day before and I am beginning to worry that perhaps I’ve been kidnapped and this was all a sinister plot to keep me from visiting other suppliers.

OK, not really but I am angry. Very angry. I trusted them to make reliable travel arrangements for me. Easy. Simple. Straightforward. If they can’t do that how can they take care of the big things I need them to take care of.

I quite simply don’t deal well with that level of stress particularly when I am working on average of 4 hours sleep/night and have been working non-stop for 3 days. I am travelling to see another supplier. I look like I’ve been camping or sleeping rough. I've got meetings here today and tomorrow then tomorrow evening I'm off to Mumbai for less than 24 hours just to catch a flight home to London.

I am missing home.

I have now arrived in Pune and my two supplier colleagues met me at the airport (seems they were on the same flight which they had caught at its origination point in Chennai. They helped me with my luggage, got my driver who got my car which has air conditioning and is clean!

I am feeling better and am now headed into yet another office for a day of meet and greet. It is going to be an early night.