Diao, my milkman, is proving to be as reliable as clockwork. He arrives at 8 pm with a couple of litres of foamingly fresh milk, come rain- as in this case, using a calebash as a rainhat- or shine. The milk is now so rich that we are having lashings of whipped cream on our desserts every night, of a quality which would make Devonshire dairyfarmers weep with envy. I am even making ice cream, although not yet with great success.