After Konica and breakfast we went to see Ocean's 12. Every single member of the audience, except for Mikey and I, had a mobile phone that played about three verses of whatever ring tune it was programmed with, and no-one answered them at once nor kept their voices down. I didn't like the film, either, although watching George Clooney is always lovely. The audience cheered and clapped for Brad Pitt, though, which meant that George was all for me.

That ws it really. We bought seven books for our return flight, packed our bags over and over again, checked our email and tried to have a nap. It was very, very boring. I read for a bit and at 10.50pm, I finally got to sleep. At 11pm we repacked our bags and took them downstairs to the waiting taxi. By midnight we were at the airport and at 12.30 they let us into the main check in area. They wouldn't upgrade us but we weren't expecting them to. I think Chennai airport is the second worst in the entire world though. There is nothing at all in the non-secure bit, and then, past customs and immigration, there is a duty-free shop that refused our dollars because they were a bit old, a cafe (we hadn't eaten for 14 hours) that had two slices of bread in an overheated glass case, warm chocolate that tasted a bit like vomit and bottled water. It wasn't a particularly satisfying supper. We spent four hours sitting around reading, and even Lynne Truss, who is wonderfully funny, failed to cheer me up. These last days have been the length Jack Bauer talk about.