30th May ‘09: Jon looks summery this morning, no? His ticket on the Superfast Ferry to Italy, costing an extra fifteen euros, is marked 'Cargo Co Driver'. He is the Jeeves to my Wooster. 'I virtually am cargo,' he weeps plaintively, and we take a stroll around the poop deck to improve morale. Namibian emerges, bleary-eyed, far from well-rested. He has shared a cabin with his equally corpulent co-driver (whom he has the gall to call fat), snoring at each other through the small hours. Now if an earplug manufacturer could drown out the cacophonous din in that cabin, it would, indeed, be a sleeping aid worth having. Burping, coughing, farting, wheezing, and talking nonsense: coo, what a night that must have been. Apparently they've had separate beds, but I wonder if two porkers are anatomically
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