Sunday 3rd April 2016, at last!

Clocks forward at noon. We are now at UK -11, I think. It doesn’t help that the onboard newspaper refers to UTC, which means nothing to me – is that GMT or BST?! Oh my brain. The Britain Today summary newspaper (provided by The Daily Fail, I believe) is out, dated 4th April. My head is really starting to hurt now. And as to how out of date the news in it might be, I have no clue. Okay, don’t panic. Breathe. If it’s 10pm here, it’s 10am in the UK.  So it’s still the 3rd April for me, but it’s already the 4th for you. Sudden desire to lay down and place a duvet over my head. With added whimpering. Need chocolate. And alcohol. Lots of both. No ice. In no fit state to risk dilution.

Djokovic: when they start listing what you HAVEN’T won, you’re doing pretty well, mate…

Utterly bizarre dinner. I said to the head waiters a few days ago that, if they could not find me an edible avocado, guacamole and tortilla chips would do. I got guacamole and chips. French fries. Talk about lost in translation… Quite tasty, nonetheless, but a bit odd.


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