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Midnight Crisp Eaters

We arrived back at the boat yesterday morning, totally exhausted, as an old man had sat down where we were sleeping in Stansted, eaten crisps and talked loudly for most of the night. Obviously unaware of how close I was of slipping into violent insanity he insisted that people should get a hotel room if they wanted to sleep somewhere. I diplomatically replied with a string of expletives.

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