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FRIDAY, JULY 12, 1996, ATLANTA

I remember to reset my watch to Atlanta time. Nine-and-a-half hours later, we're finally there. Jetlagged, but still in great shape thanks to the euphoria. Before my eyes is this massive structure; the very sight of Atlanta airport is mindboggling.

The airport is a maze of concourses. We are told to identify our baggage at a particular point, concourse B or P or something like that. How do we get there? We take the monorail, of course.

What I didn't know, though, is that the monorail always starts with massive jerk. Before we know it, we've all tumbled over each other in a heap of arms and legs. The minute we disentangle, we promptly grab one of the long metal poles that connect the roof and the floor of the monorail. At the same time, a recorded voice floods the cabin, warning us that the train's going to start and we had better hold on to something.

We book into the Atlanta Hilton and Towers for the night. The Hilton group is the official sponsor for all torch bearers, so we will be staying at different Hilton hotels for the duration of our Olympic sojourn. After unwinding a bit, it's time for dinner. We are taken to a restaurant called Haveli.

An Indian restaurant???? Serving Indian food??? I sure can appreciate the concern of the hosts but am, for one, am sorely disappointed. If it is mutter-paneer I want, I can have it a hazaar times in India. But I am in Altanta, and I want to sample their cuisine and their lifestyle.

The others, thankfully, share my views. And, before long, our hosts know the way we feel. From that day on, till we touch base in India again, we only sample McDonald's and Kentucky and all the other stuff that makes American cuisine.

The Coke chaps are very thoughtful. We are given five prepaid telephone cards each so we can make our calls. Each card is worth U S $ 60 or 25 units, which means that I can call my wife in Delhi for three minutes. If it is a local call, though, each card lasts for hours.

DAY FOUR