A highlight from my last World Tour was a night or two after months on the road in the Leela, Mumbai courtesy of a good pal of mine, Tesco Nige. On greeting me at reception, he promptly looked me up and down disapprovingly before frogmarching me, backpack, bags and all over to the concierge with the words; Here you go, can you wash this please?

This trip’s Leela moment has come via Gareth. He’d got a spare bed in his suite in Auckland and, bless ‘im, said I could crash there for a night.

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After last night in the AC-free, box room with Trampo, and several weeks of rubbing shoulders with half of Germany in confined spaces this is manna from heaven. I am hugely grateful the big-hearted Yorkshireman.
I even promised to never say anything approaching derogatory about Rugby League or Tetley’s Bitter ever again. Good on yer Gaz, good on yer.

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