Seriously, I have to wonder if it's me. I was stuck on a train, not late, but after dark with a large bunch of staggering drunk football supporters, one of whom thought it was the very acme of drollery to eject the most repellent flatulence I've ever had to survive (and anyone who has been in a Dubai taxi will know that it's a high bar!) when he wasn't staggering around bashing into people.
At one point, I thought the adrenalin- and booze-fuelled twats were going to kick off, because I could hear them hurling abuse at each other, even though my noise-cancelling headphones.
So there I was, on a wonderful English train for the best part of two hours, freezing on top because all the windows were open to allow the stench to escape and roasting on the bottom because the heating was on at full chat, eyes watering from the stink and occasionally having a fat smelly arse bashing me on the shoulder while enjoying the wit and banter of a bunch of drunken thugs.
And suddenly the socialist French looked so appealing.