We've arrived

We all made it safely to India after an uneventful flight, aside from Henry Watkinson showing his leadership skills by deserting his side as soon as an upgrade came along and then reducing a four-year-old child to tears by pulling his fingers. Perhaps the ten vodkas had something to do with it.

We were met at the hotel by Rick wearing clothes than remain indescribable, and in the afternoon the boys went to have their blazers fitted while the girls went sari shopping. The hotel is modern and lavish … those on the top floors have the rather disconcerting view of birds of prey circling just outside the windows.

Peter Hobbs arrived late in the afternoon with his arm in plaster, thus creating a record of being rule out of any matches before the first game. Oh, and we had reports that the pitch at Chandigargh, where we play next Wedesday, is under a inch or so of snow.

Dick of the Day Eds Copleston. Where to start. On the plane ... at the airport ... enough said.