16 August 2006
I come awake without warning. My arm is cold and numb where my head is resting on it. The silence is disturbingly complete and the darkness even more so.
The tent seems empty. I slip my arm back into the sleeping bag, wincing as feeling returns to it.
What woke me?
I realise that I can hear something creeping around the tent. In my sleep fuddled mind, I don't recognise the sound. A fox, maybe, or a cat. Are there wolves in the Netherlands? No, that's silly.
The sound has stopped. Outside the door. I shiver, wondering what it could be.
The zip moves, then tears upwards, all in a rush. Whoever, whatever it is comes into the tent and looms over me. In a terror of confusion I wait for...
"Hi Stan," whispers Vas, "had to nip out."
"We're out of loo-roll."
I scream "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"