Night train to Prague, I roamed from seat to seat due to a mixture of hostile Slovaks and blade-like boredom; eventually settling in a carriage compartment, six seats with only the two by the window occupied. Neither men, one young, one old, appeared associated save for the closeness of their legs and the ease with which they ignored each other. The youngster - early twenties, slick hair, kind face - looked only at his phone. The other - fifty-odd, scruffy and very, very sniffly - scribbled intently on sheaths of paper. I thought he was marking work until I paid enough attention to see that he was scrawling at what appeared to be random, dragging his pen over the torn out pages of a children’s puzzle book. This he did with the upmost certainty, snortling as he went. Once a page was deemed complete, he shoved it into the bin that lined the carriage wall in a supreme act of teleological nous. Page after page, snort after snort. Over a period of just two hours, this man - dealer in fluid and opacity - comprehensively unzipped the prospect of so ever going anywhere other than a tissue. My patience had withered to a small, charred stump by the time we neared Brno. The clean young man rose. Were they together, after all? No glance was shared between them, no acknowledgement of departure, and so I stored my hope in my nose - a private bid to fight fire with fire, matter with matter. If he remained, then I too would snivel. As Brno arrived, the rinsed man paused upon leaving as the older man began to scoop his belongings into his arms: they were together! He shuffled out of the carriage after his friend, only to turn and stream words at me. I apologetically told him I was British. “Ach! Brittania!” He said with gusto, thrusting his arms into the air as he sucker-punched me with an exalted and near-perfectly pronounced “Tommy Robinson!”. At this, he scarpered down the aisle shouting “John Lennon” only to return for a final, triumphant double tap of that humdrum scoundrel from Luton, who now precedes The Beatles in the minds of train-going Czech men: “Tommy Robinson! Tommy Robinson!”