New Delhi, Feb. 1 -- House flies, bush flies, horse flies, fruit flies, hover flies, signal flies. Thirty-thousand species of them. Uninvited companions on my long walks, interrupting a friend's golf swing without permission. Shrug, it's the Australian summer and you're outdoors where you should be.

The heat? Ah, mate, who cares. In the early 1980s, my friend, named Peter, called Tommy, now living in a town of 900 in the Victorian country, remembers freezing cordial overnight, grabbing his terry towelling hat (like Gordon Greenidge, he instructs me) and flying out the door in an age of no sunscreen.

These days Tommy's out watering his town's field. Other days he mows its grass. Everyone has a stake in the play. Visitors aren't exempted....