A small(s) matter

Many people think Mongol ralliers are simply mobile gap year drunkards with no sense of decorum or correct behaviour.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The following correspondence shows how importantly I take such matters.


Nigel's mum to Nigel via Facebook messenger
7am 15th of July 2015, Bulgaria

Hi Darling

Enjoy your last day with underpants on, I take it with all the space in the car you're all be going commando for the trip.

Best wishes, enjoy the day and get them to give you some donations


Nigel to his mum via Facebook messenger
8am 15th of July 2015, Socialist Republic of South Yorkshire, UK

Dear mummy

How simply outrageous! I shall be an ambassador of English civilisation abroad and herald of the coming Second British Empire. I cannot be expected to carry out my duties under the constant moral hazard of free range gonads.

Even in the furthest reaches of humanity one simply must have standards. I understand that a man must be adaptable when called to serve in foreign climes but really mama, I will not countenance going native and releasing 'Big Ben' from his cotton bondage.

This great nation was built by the efforts of right thinking English folk, with right thinking English ways. Tea at elevenses, stiff upper lips and even stiffer starched undergarments.

Let these things slip mother dearest and then where shall we be? Just look at the Scots: Kilts and wedding tackle blowing in the wind! Itchy woollen cloth abrading the honourable member with every gust. No wonder they're so agitated and reactionary.

So mother, although I accept your guidance in all things, in this case I must reject it and keep the flame of civilisation burning in my Y-fronts.