Right, here's how it pans out: later this morning I fly to Heathrow, sit around a bit, then on to Delhi, arriving horridly early local time on Wednesday morning. Wednesday is, then, an 'acclimatisation' day (read: 'gibber in a corner' day).
Thursday I've meetings with TV companies, then on Friday I've a meeting with a venue in Bangalore. I'm not quite sure how I get there -- flights, presumably, but they could be Thursday evening, could be Friday morning. Not to worry, I'm sure the High Commission has everything in hand.
Saturday: back to Delhi. The rest of that day is currently free, but -- guessing, here -- could well fill up. Sunday I'll be mooching around Delhi, and I fly out at 2am on Monday. Which, in the weirdly-warped manner of air travel, means that my nine-hour flight arrives five hours after it leaves. Or something like that.
Then it's back up to Glasgow for afternoon tea. Simple.
I've no idea what net access will be like, and it's highly unlikely there'll be pictures until I get back, but I'll try to lob some words up at some point.
Right now, I'm blearily working out what's going in my new bag based primarily on what dried overnight. Oops. Bad planning there. However, I have managed to adopt my usual approach to managing jetlag -- be so utterly frazzled prior to departure that I'd have no idea what time it was supposed to be had I stayed put, let alone when it is where I am then. Note that this doesn't actually help the symptoms one jot, but the alternative explanation for feeling rough as boots makes me feel a bit better.
Wish me luck!
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