Travellers to avoid this year

Dear brethren, methren, fethren and sistren, happy new year! And that’s ‘New Year’ to you, not n-year or nu-year (what is this – nu?) or any other senseless variation of the word.

I know many of you are packing bags, suitcases, children, chicken and (in a few extreme cases) mattresses and hi-fi systems to carry to your homes back to the city as you travel.

As you go, please take just five minutes to study the habits of your future fellow passengers I have described here and save yourself a lot of pain.

The Peer-er
The Peer-er is the type of person who mentally assists the driver to drive. You will, in the middle of your quiet contemplation of the landscape or the book you are engrossed in, sense the Peer-er, breathing quietly down your neck as he spends a good, long minute craning his neck to check that the driver has not fallen asleep behind the wheel.

If he really gets to you, feel free to breathe hotly and quietly down his neck as well while pretending to peer at something over his shoulder. His startled look will be well worth it, I promise you.

Mr Watermelon
As previously discussed, this is the kind of fella (or rare woman) who sits with his legs as wide apart as possible, as though nursing a pregnant watermelon between them (I remember this description from a good friend of mine who has a description for every condition under the sun).

Meekness is not an option here, because how are you going to travel from Arua to Kampala while seated on three centimetres of your seat? When Mr Watermelon strikes, strike back.

Since he is eating up your space as well, sit on one of his legs and don’t let up until he changes his errant ways.

The economist
While the rest of us foolish mortals throw money away buying snacks and water, the economist packs her own snacks.

Unfortunately, many of these tend to be of the pungent variety, among them boiled eggs laced with kachumbari, stale chips and all manner of greasy, smelly meats and meat products.

What to do? I suggest, the minute the smelly treats are unleashed and the vehicle is moving, asking the economist in a whisper if she could perchance spare you a paper bag to vomit in.

Try to look queasy and clutch your stomach while you’re at it, to make it more believable. End of appetite, end of problem, ha ha ha!

It is my hope, of course, that you are not one of the types of people I have described here. Travel safely!