This morning met Osama from Jakarta at 5.45am. He loves martial arts and his job involves distributing goat's milk. At the crack of dawn, I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of his 400 pungent goaty pals. Amid the bleating and a familiar odour reminiscent of the cheese counter at my local supermarket, I watched the skillful milking of several full-bellied goatesses. They were very tolerant as I squatted with a pail and began to tweak their plump teats under expert supervision.

Despite having domesticated goats for about ten thousand years I couldn't help but think that it was a bit strange for an adult human female to be kneading the udders of another species to extract milk intended for its young. My goat victim was infinitely patient and rolled a yellow eye at me. I patted her rump in thanks when I had finished and she began her breakfast of soya slops with a quiet dignity.

After milking this morning, I met another lovely Osama - a biographer, politician and journalist who runs a successful media house in Jakarta. As we stepped into his luxurious office and smartly dressed aides scurried around us, I suddenly became acutely aware that I smelled quite goatish. I hope he didnt mind. His love will be up soon!