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I just had to sit on a bus with no heating for and hour and a half through rural snowy Yorkshire. I could see my breath. And I don't mean doing big breaths like a dragon, I mean run of the mill breathing puffs from my nose. It reminded me of sitting through lower league Scottish football matches as a kid. But without the disgusting but warming Bovril at half time. If I had an ass I'm pretty sure I'd have frozen it off. Currently I have my socks draped over the fire hoping to be able to work out that precise moment when I should put them back on before they ignite.