Posts Tagged ‘New Zealand’

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The first low guttural murmurs send a peel of apprehension down the alarm bells of my mind.  Just seconds from now, my entire ear canal may very well have fallen prey to the by now well-known blustering of a grown man’s snore.  I must act quickly.

The sound appears to be manifesting from the top of the bunk next to me; the bed directly above the bed my friend is sleeping on.  For now.  I risk poking a foot out of the warmth and protection of the duvet to feel into the darkness and find the smooth wood of the adjoining bunk bed.  The murmurs have just begun their inevitable blossom into a more prolonged throaty grumble.  My friend sighs and turns over.  She’s awake.  My foot secures its position pressed against the bunk bed frame.  And I push.  Silence.  The snoring stops. 

And then resumes, almost immediately.  This offender won’t be easily quashed.

Two hours later and my friend has sighed and huffed her way into a dozen different position before hauling her duvet from the bed and loudly departing the room to sleep in the preferable (testament to the offense level of the snoring) circumstances of a cold dining room, with six unwelcoming dinner chairs positioned into some sort of bed formation.  I have occupied my mind deliberating each and every one of my current problems or worries, throwing them this way and that in an attempt to at least make use of this missed sleeping time and/or to bore myself to sleep.  I have practised deep breathing and a selection of relaxation techniques in an attempt to rise above the now overwhelming bubbling and chattering of this loathsome man’s oblivious throat.  I have kicked the bed for momentary peace more times that is technically sociable and now, dejected and sleep-deprived, I lie in wait of morning.

It’s only when what I believed to be his most offensive noise racketed up a notch to ensure the absolute awakening of all poor souls in the room accompanied by a scratching, quivering, gurgling offensive on the exhale as well as the inhale that my only remaining response is laughter.  How absurd.  How absurd that this man, clearly informed of this unfortunate tendency by every past (and swiftly departing) lover, thinks it is in anyway acceptable to book in to a six bed dormitory. 

Alas, if only this was the exception to rather than the bane of the backpacking experience.

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