My body is a temple

One of the things we wanted to do when we arrived was to take advantage of the change of scenery to kick start a few other changes. What’s the point in moving physically and culturally and then just repeating the same patterns? So in comes the healthy diet, made easy by simply accepting the vegetarian dishes and piles of fresh fruit prepared by the cook. Along comes the regular gym every morning, made easy by a 4.5 hour time difference allowing the opportunity to get the gym, eat the healthy breakfast and still be in the office before anyone in the U.K. cares. Not bothering to wire up a television connection means more and better sleep.

The real deal breaker was when I suggested that we resist the temptation to stack crates of wine in the flat and instead reduce our consumption to evenings out and visits from friends. The look received was on par with having announced I was cancelling Christmas…. because I’d killed Santa…. by repeated blows from a sack of puppies.

Through gritted teeth and with grudging agreement Memsaab went along with it. Until the first return trip back from London. When I found her in duty free quietly clutching a bottle of VSOP brandy and telling it that “Mummy and Daddy will always love you no matter what happens” I thought maybe the occasional nightcap wasn’t too much of a fall from grace. So far it seems we’ve struck a happy balance and Memsaab using the Courvoiser as rubbing liniment seems to have helped her yoga no end.