Briefing coming out of my ears. Five Kazakh ministers in town. Mutton and horse blood lunches till Friday. Vodka toasts (drink-one-spit-one-out is my top tip). Oil and gas lectures, immigration and work-visa policy discussions, post 9/11 defence strategies and me wearing a suit way too big for me but still looking smarter than any of our big-wigs.

Timpsons just robbed me of £45 just to sole my lovely boots (with leather though, none of that rubber rubbish).