fellows 27 September 2009
The travelling has thrown up some yeuchies over the last while. Smell seems to be to the fore for me. I have sat into some reeky taxis in the last fortnight – many of them just musty, I guess, and lots that were just in need of a good airing but worst was the black cab in manchester where the driver clearly had eaten a lot of raw garlic and it brought tears to my eyes (thankfully a short journey there). A man sat next to me last Friday on the plane had bad breath and there was no hiding from it – for me, he seemed blissfully unaware of it. There are other distractions, of course, like noise. Tonight the train journey was a bit challenging as a young child behind me (2 years old at most) snuffled and snored loudly all the way from London. I know I wasn’t the only one praying the family would get off early, but no. And in a way I cannot point the finger as I woke myself up a few times last night snoring also – poor Rich did give me a dig at one stage to stop, so he was awake for the display too. It was the sherry at the top of the meal with the mum-in-law, I reckon. Anyhow, as it happens, I dreamt the snoring all the way along too and just as I awoke each time it was like I had heard myself toot like a trumpet which was kinda funny, even at the time, and a bit mortifying. It’s also something I am writing about at the moment so everything is a big dream soup of the imagination, sleeping or waking, at the moment
