Four in the morning...

Dubai International Terminal B

The aircon is freezing my bits off. The tannoy is making my ears bleed. The bloke with the iPod blaring and singing over the top of his tuneless trash music is likely to be waddling with his bloody music pod firmly placed where the sun doesn't shine. And if the Rusky with the big nose (on my left) doesn't stop kicking the seats I shall have to advise him too. Can't these people just sleep? Oh gawd, now he's phoning his mate in Vladivostok. Loudly.

MrsDB is snoring peacefully through my stressful experiences.