Half way to Al and Maries it was Egon Benger's turn to feed Diabetic Dave and the five thousand. Armed with a box of Swan Vesta matches, it took him 8 hours to cook 1 rasher of bacon, but we persevered and managed to hang on to life long enough to be fed.
Big Jock armed with aforementioned Pampers bottom wipes went for his morning sabbatical but came straight back refusing to use the French "point and shoot method" of plopping one off. Bomber tried in vain to make Big Jock feel guilty about not contributing to mess chefs but was promptly told to rod off because he was typing the blog and Bomber was immediately referred to the last time he tried this on during the 2008 European murtahurm tour. Mouldy calmed things down by broadcasting a comedy session on the murtahurm wireless and both camps kissed and made up and the journey recommenced.
Don't ask me how, but it then transpired that Bomber had had 7 fingers up his bottom at varying stages of his Naval career, all medical he hastened to add - yeah right, and he is now being addressed by Tim by his new title for the tour - 7 Up!
After another quick pit stop for lavatorial requirements and chips, the journey recommenced. Big Jock should have visited the loo because his arse was emitting some vile stenches for the rest of the trip. Big Jock just blamed it on Doctor Mouldy Crippen's poisoning session the previous night.
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