Travelling halfway across the world in a 4X4 obviously presents no real problem to our intrepid four but what about catching some kip?
Jo Dew-Jones:
To the snorer (not Bryn)
What is it about snoring
That turns one’s pre-slumber placid philosophising
To mischievous plans of soft torture
Such as constant hitting with pillows
For the next three days?
It’s to do with the subtle snuffle that invariably escalates
Into a reverberating, rumbling rhythm
That floats up and cascades around and screeches down
Into the room that is empty of other sound.
My mind battles with questions regarding the snorer’s essential morality.
Why this room? Why a DORM room?
Why haven’t you had corrective surgery?
How can you be the only person present
Not disadvantaged by this accursed condition?
As the mind swirls with the noise of these emotions
You realise with elation – it’s stopped!
And then, instantly, it begins again
That slow torment that rises to a crescendo
And compounds the regret at not falling asleep
When it was quiet.
You are cruel, snorer.
What is it about snoring
That turns one’s pre-slumber placid philosophising
To mischievous plans of soft torture
Such as constant hitting with pillows
For the next three days?
It’s to do with the subtle snuffle that invariably escalates
Into a reverberating, rumbling rhythm
That floats up and cascades around and screeches down
Into the room that is empty of other sound.
My mind battles with questions regarding the snorer’s essential morality.
Why this room? Why a DORM room?
Why haven’t you had corrective surgery?
How can you be the only person present
Not disadvantaged by this accursed condition?
As the mind swirls with the noise of these emotions
You realise with elation – it’s stopped!
And then, instantly, it begins again
That slow torment that rises to a crescendo
And compounds the regret at not falling asleep
When it was quiet.
You are cruel, snorer.
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