Brinksmanship

In 13 1/2 hours I am meant to be on a plane to London, starting my trip to Mumbai. For the trip, I need a passport (allows me to pass ports) and a visa (vis-a-vis... so I can be face to face with the Indians). At this exact moment, my passport and enclosed visa are sitting in the mail room of company HQ in Uxbridge. That's near London. I'm in Edinburgh. In the next 12 hours that passport will be picked up by a nice courier, driven personally about 431 miles and delivered into my hands, shaking with anticipation (that's the hands, not the passport doing the shaking).

I believe.

I also believe that I won't get much sleep tonight. Estimated time of awakening: 4.30am. Estimated time of arrival in hotel in Mumbai: midnight BST.

Anyway, the rest of the day seems to have gone smoothly. Domestic chores accomplished, packing nearly complete (just waiting for a couple of things to dry on the line), certain amount of shopping accomplished. Found what looks and feels like a nice waterproof jacket in Nevisport: contains silk (proteins - whatever that means) - and is gorgeously soft. It's called Epic, so perhaps it's designed to deal with epic weather. Like monsoons.

Now I have a few hours this evening that I can use for leisurely pursuits. Pilates class a bit later, taking my plants round to mother so she can water them in my absence, tiny bit of ironing, supper. Then try to sleep a bit. Before being rudely awakened at some ungodly hour.