I got a call of the Mandster saying that her mum’s mate had seen a trailer for my television show on cable TV in Australia. A bit (all right then, a lot) of Googling later, I found out that she was right – it starts next Tuesday. Woo! I also found out they’re calling it ‘Graham’s World’. Boo!
I know it sounds like it, but ‘Graham’s World’ is NOT a documentary about a cracker factory. And for the record, I don’t think this planet is mine. I more than aware that there are almost seven billion other people who share it with me.
So, despite my reservations about the title of the show (and the titles of the episodes – ygads!), if you can watch it, please do. It’s not being shown in the UK, but you can catch it in Australia, New Zealand, the Middle East and (I think) the US and Canada (let me check that some more).
ANYWAYS, I’m happy that my footage is finally being screened. Hopefully I’ll be able to watch it myself on Tuesday night – hopefully they just show the funny bits.
At around 9pm, Turki and I set off once more into the breach, dear friends, and before you could say Crikey-Turki-you-really-saved-my-bacon-with-this-whole-Eritrea-business I was on an overnight coach heading back to Riyadh.
Turki – THANK YOU!!
Now I’ve been on a lot of overnight buses over the last eighteen months, and, you know what? Priority rules. If the bus isn’t full, seating is not allocated and I’m first on the bus (which I was) then I get to cadge the back seats for myself. OKAY? Well, I had been sitting quietly for five minutes when some utter b—–d came over and sat next to me. Seriously? Are the other twenty-seven EMPTY SEATS freaking you out sir?
But then it gets better: he tries to convince ME to move, so he can have the back seats to himself. I was jovial enough, but I’d be damned if I was going to budge an inch. He said that the back seats were uncomfortable, that the engine made them vibrate and that fumes would come in through the gaps and it would smell.
Oh, right, you want me to move and let you have all the back seats for MY benefit? I swear this guy was just about to win the Odyssey Expedition prize for the most annoying tosspot I’ve met in over 176 countries. And then it got worse. Because the back seats don’t recline, if you don’t lie down across four of them, it’s tremendously uncomfortable.
Here are the seats:
( )( )( )( )( )
And he sat HERE:
( )(x)( )( )( )
ALL FRICKIN’ NIGHT. WITH A TON OF EMPTY SEATS AVAILABLE FOR HIM TO SIT ON!!!
So instead of being able to lie over four seats (and Mr. Complete B—–d over here, you know, take the one by the window) I had an excessively uncomfortable night cramped up on three.
Oh yeah, and he woke me every hour (or whenever my cramp and/or pins and needles had subsided) to ask the frickin’ TIME.
Man, I’ve never wanted to kill someone so much in my life. With the possible exception of Bono.
On the overnighter to Dubai if I bagsy the back seat and somebody else tries to sit there I swear he’s going to be dead before he hits the floor. Grr……!