Why do I always fancy Toblerone at Airports?

Life holds many mysteries. I am fortunate enough to travel quite frequently and consequently find myself at airports a number of times per year. You may, like me, have noticed that Toblerones always seem to be on sale in Duty Free in bars about seven feet long. Whereas I normally don’t give them a second glance, in an airport I have seriously considered buying one of the whoppers and scoffing the lot in one go. So why do I always fancy Toblerone at airports? I wrote a poem on the subject and sent it to Toblerone along with the following letter. Maybe they’ll make me a Toblerone Ambassador or something. I’ll post their response if and when it comes.

Dear Mr Toby LeRone

Allow me to cut to the chase. Why do I always fancy Toblerone at airports? Although I’m certain your bars of three-dimensional triangular confectionary joy are delicious in any circumstance, I have to confess that, upon a visit to a local grocery store or major supermarket, I never give Toblerone a second glance. When in an airport though, I become a pale, drooling, slightly-hysterical Toblerone addict. I truly believe I could buy one of the massive ones and scoff the lot in Duty Free. Why should this be? Have Toblerone discovered an ingredient which triggers psychological chocolate and nougat addiction when the consumer is dragging a wheely-suitcase? Sounds improbable but I am struggling to find any other explanation. This baffling mystery has become an all-consuming preoccupation so, by means of therapy, I have written a poem which I thought I would share with you. It is called Why, Oh Why, Oh Why Do I Always Fancy Toblerone at Airports? You can rap it if you like. I hope you enjoy it.

Why, oh why, oh why, do I always fancy Toblerone at airports? (repeat ad. lib.)

Airport security – a sea of faces
Doing up my belt and tying up my laces
Wondering why I giggle when the burly man frisks me
Pass through the watches, the perfumes and whiskey
But there’s one display, which takes full control
I’m pulled towards it, like a massive black hole
Three for a tenner! Who could decline?
Those chunks of confectionary, with wrapping so refined.
Dark choc, milk choc, or white for the radical
My health-food drive, will take a sabbatical
Why do they sell them, in bars a metre long?
I could scoff the lot, though I know it is wrong
Are you isosceles, or even equilateral
But that much confectionary, is hardly practical
But in the world’s airports, I could eat one or more
Standing in the duty free, drooling on the polished floor.

But why, oh why, oh why, do I always fancy Toblerone at airports? (repeat ad. lib.)

In the local Co-op, there’s no arguments or bickers,
Could be a Mars Bar, or even a Snickers,
A classic Flake, goes down a dream,
Feeling Old School? A Fry’s Mint Cream!
Those honeycomb wonders, which are Maltesers,
A whole tube of Rolos, should the need seize us,
But the golden triangle – out of the question,
Grab myself a Toblerone? What a suggestion!
Revels, Minstrels, will you make a pick for us?
The three-sided wonder? Don’t be so ridiculous,
A classic Double Decker, or maybe a Wispa
Something crunchy, like a Toffee Crisp(a)
But Gatwick, Heathrow, Luton or Stanstead,
The thought of a Toblerone, won’t get out of my head
Little bits of nougat (I used to call it ‘nugget’)
Chocolate powder, sugar, I’m sure I could chug it.

But why, oh why, oh why, do I always fancy Toblerone at airports? (repeat ad. lib.)

Dan is the author of Extracting Goats from Jean-Claude’s Kitchen, published by Kellan Publishing.

Annoying bits of sticky stuff, in between my teeth,
But the need to scoff a massive one, goes beyond belief,
You once made bigger gaps, between your lofty peaks,
Confess it Toblerone, you’re a choccie cheat,
But I forgive you, your sugary charms,
Are always more than welcome, in my outstretched arms,
But only if I’m about, to set off on my travels,
Then your shiny paper, I’m desperate to unravel,
Going on holiday, about to take a flight,
Then the need to devour you, is one I cannot fight,
The weighty temptation, is impossible to bear,
Despite the threat, of the dentist’s chair,
But any other time, like when I’m eating al fresco,
Browsing the confectionary in my local Tesco,
I won’t give you, a fleeting cursory glance,
Buy a cocoa pyramid? Not a bloomin’ chance!)

But why, oh why, oh why, do I always fancy Toblerone at airports? (repeat ad. lib.)

Dan Jones October 2018

P.S. Since publishing my ditty on social media, a number of friends have purchased me Toblerone bars as whimsical gifts (see the handy attached photo). You may wish to pop that into the equation if you are considering sending me something in recognition of my efforts in marketing your brand.