One of the worst things about being British is that many of us are cursed with the ‘over polite gene’. Oh it’s all very well if you are born state side (come on! You know who you are! J ), but for us Brits, there is nothing worse than trying to remain selflessly silent during long dark nights of social sleeping arrangements - especially when you are dealing with a mischievous, selfish and unyielding mosquito!
I optimistically pull the mozzie nets over the bunk early. I have another guest tonight and that makes it far worse when an attack happens. It’s bad enough that the bed creaks every time I move (of course I will lie uncomfortably for hours before I allow another creak to MAYBE disturb my fellow snoozer) but killing a mozzie at midnight is not a silent affair. When he comes to visit, like he has done every night since my tent leaked and I entered the dorm, I will have no other defences than a one handed clap, a swift swipe and a whispered curse. Frankly, this is just not enough!
I block all obvious exits and tuck myself in. Podcast on, skin covered…and sleep!