As I was innocently finishing breakfast this morning with a fresh banana lassi, thinking quite hard about bothering to walk to the beach while my beloved had a massage, the same beloved suggested that I might be better employed writing a guest blog for the Restorers without Frontiers. Before I could come back with a witty quip about the relative merits and demands of massages and messages, Caterina, the founder of Restorers without Frontiers, sipping delicately on her second cup of Marsala tea, corrected her: "not guest blog - WORKER blog". Her words struck cold fear into my heart. A guest is permitted flights of fancy, irony and the odd inaccuracy; a worker though...? Even the possible implied compliment (while a guest is a tolerated hanger-on, a worker might be regarded as a member of the team) filled me with misgiving. As one of such a serious, professional group as The London School of Picture and Frame Conservation I'd be expected to understand the abstruse differences between oil- and water-gilding; the proper uses of rabbit skin (glue) and squirrel hair (gold leaf application); and the articles of faith, like using only materials whose effects are known for certain a millenium or so hence. The beloved had told me that I was invited to Goa as her Sherpa and gopher; now it seems that I had been downgraded to simple slave. So here goes: a drone's eye view of Restorers without Frontiers in action in Goa; or a typical day in the life of the most junior member of the team:... 07:15 Woken by the beloved's alarm going off: sign that beloved (who can sleep through a mobile alarm of 170 decibels, but is woken from the deepest slumber by each of my gentle breaths at night, to kick me and bark the command "stop snoring") will remain asleep for 15 minutes, during which time I must shave, shower, dress and tidy up SILENTLY. 07:28 Rebuked for failing to wake beloved. 07:29 Rebuked for making so much noise that I might wake Caterina. 07:30 Rebuked for leaving bathroom in state. 08:00 Breakfast with the leaders of the LSofP&FC; receive orders for the day. 09:00 Deliver leaders to the Archbishop's House, avoiding security for the visiting Prime Minister of Portugal; take photographs of staff and students conserving saints and archbishops etc and try to help generally, until... 09:05 Asked to get out of the way and watch birds in the Archbishop's garden. 09:50 Rebuked for wasting time birdwatching and invited in no uncertain terms to go shopping for: straight-edged scalpel blades (10A), water, a mattress, Stanley knives, plasterer's trowel ("and not the one you bought yesterday, take that back"), an iron, a kettle, a copper-bottomed pot, plastic piping to transport metal stretcher pieces "and anything else useful you can think of". 10:05 Slightly concerned that this shopping list might interest the security forces guarding the visiting Prime Minister, start at well-known medical equipment supplier. Learn that they do not have 10A scalpel blades in stock, only 11s, which are the only other straight-edged sort. Take one back to the Archbishop's House for approval. 10:20 It is rejected, so... 10:35 return to well-known medical supplier, who advises that only one other person in Panjim might have 10As, a chemist who bought up all western medical supplies in Goa when it was liberated in 1961. 10:50 Arriving at his shop, discover from neighbour that the proprietor only opens his shop if you call the number painted on the wall between his shop window and the front door. Admire stock of terrifyingly labelled surgical implements in window (see picture). 10:51 Telephone him. 10:52 Learn that he will open up at 4pm. 10:53 Proceed with rest of shopping, including visiting 6 different mattress sellers, of whom the first is inevitably the cheapest, until... 13:00 Delicious lunch provided by the nuns at the Archbishop's House. Wives and leaders reasonably happy with THEIR morning's work, but not too impressed by lack of correct scalpel blades, mattress, acceptably-bottomed pot, plastic piping et al. 14:00 Continue shopping while most sensible inhabitants of Panjim enjoy well-earned siesta, eventually tracking down superior copper-bottomed pot in the market, best-price mattress and cut lengths of plastic piping. 16:00 Arrive at surgical supplies shop. Closed. Ring proprietor, who says he is on bridge. 16:05 He arrives, to tell us that 10A scalpel blades do not exist, and we should try 10s, which are not straight. Fearing wrath of wives, we return with an example to Archbishop's house at about... 17:05 to discover that the class is over for the day and they have all gone for cakes and drinks at the cafe nearby. Spend back-breaking 25 minutes placing lengths of metal stretcher into new plastic-piping travelling containers. 17:30 Join ("what took you so long? We've been waiting for you for nearly half an hour!") those who must be obeyed at the cafe, to find that all has gone so well (and the carrot cake is so delicious) that curved scalpel blades are acceptable, as is the softness of the mattress - all of which constitutes true bliss for the Restorers without Frontiers junior drone...