They laughed at me when I won coco pops. They laughed when I squirrelled them away in my pack.
And on the last day? When breakfast was dead hash browns and “deep fried cooked egg” (I still don't know).
When the locals had started herding the camels back along the nearby roads, confident that some nutter rally driver wouldn't plough through the middle of them?
I had coco pops.
And I was even nice enough to share.