Clive - I'm first up this morning, and notice that the water isn't that hot. Not only that, but the shower head is blocked and water is only coming out of about three holes! I forewarn Sarah of this, as she's very particular about her shower in the mornings, but despite the forewarning Sarah is very upset and stands shivering in her towel. I tell her to get a grip and stop fannying around like a big girl's blouse, to which she snaps that I should stop treating her like an army recruit! However over breakfast it's apparent that she isn't feeling well at all, and she goes back to bed. What with the shenanigans last night, and the shower situation this morning, I take Mr Kumar, the manager, to one side and tell him that we're not very happy with the hotel to date and we'll be looking for an alternative. He's very apologetic and tells me he'll give us "maximum discount" and asks us to stay the second night. He explains that tonight, being New Year's Eve, they've got a big party on and the staff are busy preparing for it. No excuse for poor service of course, but possibly a reasonable explanation.

With Sarah asleep in bed I get an auto into Calicut. I've two missions to accomplish; first is to amend our onward train booking, as the clerk in Mumbai had mistakenly reserved us seats from Cannanore instead of Calicut, and the second is to change some travellers cheques. Getting the auto from the station to the foreign exchange agency proves interesting. All I've got is the Lonely Planet guide, which includes a map of the city centre. Unfortunately my driver speaks hardly a word of English, not even numbers. I decide the best course of action is to identify from the map a nearby landmark for him to take me to, rather than try and explain the name and location of the agency. "Bus terminal" I say, which he understands and off we whizz. Within about 30 seconds we've arrived at a bus terminal, but it's quite plainly not the one on the map. I try other options from the map; "Indira Gandhi Road" and "Bank Road" but he's having difficulty understanding me.

I'm just about to get out and try another auto, when we pull alongside another auto with a passenger in the rear. It's apparent that my driver knows both the driver and the passenger in the other auto because an animated conversation in the local language (Malayalam) ensues, followed by the passenger asking me, in perfect English, where I'm trying to get to. The two autos are by now racing along side-by-side, and I stretch across and show the map to the passenger and explain where I'm going. The two autos have to separate regularly to avoid pedestrians and Tata buses, so I keep having to duck back inside my auto until we've 're-docked' and I can continue my explanation. It's a bit like a scene out of an Indiana Jones movie. Another brief discussion takes place between the other passenger and my driver, and it now appears that all is understood. The other auto disappears into the traffic, and within five minutes I'm dropped right at the door of the foreign exchange agent.

Missions accomplished I get back to the hotel to find Sarah still in bed, but feeling a bit better. I decide to find out more about the party that's going on tonight, and I'm given a leaflet which describes it as "A fun-filled extravaganza for the discerning few of Calicut city", including a "mind-boggling magic show" and an "enthralling mega musical fete by Sikander Ali". Intriguingly, the leaflet appears to show three people ice skating - maybe this is part of the magic act. The price is Rs600 per couple, which includes all food. The leaflet doesn't say whether Kingfisher beer is included, but I suspect not. Certainly there is much activity preparing for the party on some fenced ground adjacent to the hotel, with a stage, sound system, chairs and tables being set up.

I decide to go and get some lunch. In the restaurant I'm handed the menu. "Veg spring roll please" I say handing back the menu. "Sorry, no spring roll" says the waiter. I take another look. "I'll have finger chips then please". "Sorry, no finger chips". This is starting to sound a bit like the Python cheese emporium sketch. "Could you show me what you do have then?" I ask, thinking this should force the issue. "Only fried rice" says the waiter, helpfully. "What, only fried rice, nothing else?" I exclaim. The waiter doesn't answer, he just gives the standard Indian side-to-side shake of the head and smiles, as if to say "You can take it or leave it mate, it's not of my doing, I'm only the messenger". I decide not to bother and leave the restaurant, but as I'm heading back to the room I notice another door, which turns out to be the bar. This is more like it, at least I can get a beer. So I order a Kingfisher. This time though I'm given a different menu, one for bar snacks instead of lunch. I go through a similar routine to the one I went through with the other waiter. It seems no-one is prepared to actually acknowledge straight up that the kitchen is closed, the reason being that everyone is preparing for the party tonight. However, I do manage to negotiate for some 'fish-fingers' which take 20 minutes to arrive. This allows me time to drink my beer and read a book.

In the afternoon Sarah feels up to a walk around town. We agree to head into the city centre, with which I'm reasonably familiar by now after my sortie this morning, as long as we can get an auto back. We spend a pleasant hour walking around, and then decide to treat ourselves to a bar of Cadbury's Fruit and Nut, only to discover that I've forgotten to bring any extra money, so we have no money for an auto back to the hotel. As we march back the way we came (hot, dusty, sweaty, etc) I can't help thinking that I've just cancelled out the brownie points I gained in buying the chocolate.

I manage to negotiate cut-price tickets for the party - Rs400 instead of Rs600. It starts at 7pm sharp with what sounds like traditional Indian music. Unfortunately Sarah doesn't feel up to partying so I get dressed up in my New Year party outfit and at 8pm I toddle along on my own. Chairs have been set out as if for a concert, and a new 8-piece band has just come on stage. They look very professional, and judging by the sound they're making as they set up they should be very good. Unfortunately they seem to take ages to get ready. The individual musicians seem to be ready quickly, but no-one seems to want to say "Start". I've been sitting there almost 20 mins before they play their first number. But they're very good once they get started. The music is traditional Indian style and there are a number of male and female singers. Many of the numbers are clearly known to the audience. Soon the buffet meal is served and we queue up. The light isn't that good and I've no idea what I'm eating, but it's hot with rice and is eaten with the right hand. I'm the only white face among 500 or so people and am the object of some curiosity, particularly as I'm on my own, which gets a little wearing after a while. At around 10.30 the magician is announced (for the children we're told), and not having brought my ice skates, I retire to the hotel for a beer. At 11pm I decide I've had enough of being stared at and go back to the room where Sarah is sleeping, so I call it a day and get to bed myself. After all, it's already 2006 in Wellington.