As we open the book of Chapter V, we find ourselves in the familiarity of our protagonists’ modest lodgings - midst the amiable tussle between sleep and wakefulness, laziness and ambition, framed against the tick-tock silence of a lazy morning. Our protagonists, in a trifecta of unabashed nonchalance, totter under the weight of early-start broken promises.
Gentle snores of slumber give way to barbed exchanges, as veils of camaraderie lift to reveal threads of resentment and recrimination, all strung together by the sweet symphony of George’s fanfare-like snore. What follows is a flurry of activity, accentuated by the acerbic humour that has been a constant companion from the beginning of our tale. Our heroes' disdain for the weather forecast, the futile preparation, the eccentricity of the luggage and the wonderfully humorous, slapstick-like confusion at the Waterloo Station, could be the perfect antidote for your daily weariness.
It’s a tale of slippers utilised as a wake-up call, of barometric devices bordering on the obstinate, of odd thoughts on the waste of time, of errand boys and eccentric passengers, of confounding trains and the quintessential English romanticism of a boat, patiently awaiting its sojourn.
