In the last couple of days we've both received text messages from Hutch, our mobile phone operator, that the talk time on our pre-paid mobiles needs to be replenished. However, although Hutch has roaming in Goa there's nowhere to re-charge the phones. This is very frustrating as we'll have to wait until we get to Mangalore in a weeks time.

We've decided to try some alternative breakfast options because, despite a promising start, the service at the hotel has not been great. We're entitled to a continental breakfast as part of the room rate, but we always want something more than tea and toast. However the waiters can't seem to grasp the idea that we'd like to place an order for hot food before he brings the toast. They always seem incredibly surprised when we ask for the menu, or order anything hot. "But sir/madam, you will have to pay". Then when it comes to paying we have to go through the time-honoured ritual with the bill, even if it's only a few rupees for an egg. So this morning we try one of the shacks on the beach for breakfast. They do a thing called a Proper Breakfast which is altogether better, and you have a sea view. You just have to dodge the crabs which have dug their burrows in the sand around the shacks.

This morning Clive is overjoyed to discover exactly the bat and ball game he'd been looking for in Panaji yesterday. It's got two wooden bats and a couple of small hard balls like miniature tennis balls. Clive's like a dog with two tails, so we go down to the beach and secure a table and loungers at one of the many shack restaurants. Clive doesn't like to sit around at the beach doing nothing - he'd rather be busy swimming in the sea, walking along the beach or, in this case, playing bat and ball. So Sarah has no choice but to join in, when really she'd rather be lying on the lounger reading a book. However, after a number of attempts, we manage to get the 'hit' count (the number of times the two of us hits the ball without it dropping on the sand) to a magnificent total of eight. This is celebrated with a Kingfisher beer. An attempt to break this record will be made within a few days. A late lunch is followed by a web site update, during which we're shouted at by the (stand-in) manager for trying to plug our disc drive into the USB port at the back of the computer. "Do not fiddle about with the wiring, we will lose our internet connection!". We explain that the usual manager has let us do this on many previous occasions, so the usual manager is called from his tea break and plugs it in himself!

A search for good music in the evening proves fruitless, and we retire with a book and a milky drink.