The last few days have been fairly duck focused. Last night we had a stray duckling arrive in our garden; Little Charlie – our cat – was extremely pleased about this, as was Leuven – our ridgeback – so we all chased it about in a fruitless attempt to catch it. Despite our best efforts, it thankfully found it’s way into Nick’s pond next door where its mother came down to find it – great news. There is nothing like a family duck reunion to get you in a good mood before a long trip. Lulu (my head nurse) also informed just as I was about to leave for the airport that the duck we operated on last Friday not only made it through the weekend but is happily quacking at home with her other rescue duck ‘Deefa’. It’s been given the name ’Polo’ due to the fact it had a huge hole in its beak which we repaired. All great news – since things come in threes, I’m currently waiting for the third duck to appear as I write this blog.

I have a sneaky suspicion that I’ll be in for a long wait. I don’t think Southern India is famed for them, but I could be wrong. No idea what to expect other than plenty of variety and a buffalo with a broken horn. The last few weeks have, once again, gone with a blur. Noah is racing about at home now and causing joyous mayhem everywhere he goes and I can’t believe I’m once again seating on the aisle of a middle row at the back of a fully packed 747 to Bangalore. Seems to have been a mix up with the breakfast – Bruce is sitting a couple of seats to my right has just been given an omelette, I’ve been given a scorching curry. The air hostesses are literally racing up and down dishing out food trays at a million miles an hour, I don’t think there is much chance of me swapping this one. Guess it’s a good a time as any to start easing myself into local cuisine.

One other thing I didn’t know is that Bruce is also a comic writer. I’ve just read one on the flight – wow.