C Met O was [at personal risk] visiting livers-out in Ayios Dhometios at its nastiest when he was hauled over at a Greek Cypriot road block.
Up against the wall. "Papers!" "Passport?"
"Ah!. OK! You are English?"
"Yes!, me English" said C Met O, gritting his teeth.
Him being a hairy arsed jocks jock, complete with Burns Night thrashes, kilt and all the trimmings.
He nearly wept tears of shame over a beer afterwards.
True, every word of it.