Day 10 – Namibgrens to Usakos
Had to wake up at 5 this morning for a 9-hour drive to the project. Awoke to Oli’s arse in my face. His arse gets everywhere when in the tent. It’s so fucking annoying! Plus it looks huge in his long johns. It’s even worse crammed in a two-man tent. It fills every available space.
Sat next to Susie in the truck at the moment. Across from us Fraser and Emma are snuggled up to one another. They’re the most unlikely and abstract pairing I’ve ever seen. Amazed Emma hasn’t twatted him yet. Funny if she did though.
George has been trying to sleep on the truck again. I don’t know why he does this. Surely he got enough kip last night in his own tent. He looks ill as he tries to sleep. Like a plagued dinosaur. He’s just lifted his head up. The window he was leaning on is as greasy as a restaurant frying pan after a 6-hour shift. Disgusting.
Get in! Susie’s contemplating letting me read her journal!
He’s sat forward now slobbed on his hand, staring at… Fraser’s arse? Possibly. Fraser’s muttering the words to his MP3, with Susie’s fly glasses lavishly wrapped round his massive head. He looks like a genetic mutation between fly and man.
Jennie looks beautifully British. Sat crossed-legged, staring sombrely out of the window, as though she’s lost something.
I wish Owen would either slow down or speed up and find some bloody tarmac road! This shit is a pain to write on.
Woooooooh! Tarmac! Oh I can write again!
He’s still sat forwards. He still looks ill.
Shit! Westlife have come on! Get off the tarmac please!
Owen’s got his seatbelt on now. Yeah, ‘cos tarmac is a lot more dangerous that gravel ones. Shocking.
He’s asleep again. It amuses me how much sleep one person needs.
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