Survival

Nothing like waking up at five thirty in the morning, birds chirping, waves breaking. Consciousness slowly regained, discovering  roots and stones and the permanent bumps they have chiseled into the back and side of your body. Return to waking awareness is slowed down by the lack of blood. Half of it is buzzing around, inside of insect vampires. Outside an army ofmosquitoes large enough to suck you dry two more times. Waiting. Biding their time. Knowing you have to come out soon. Your struggling kidneys will see to that. You had brought an inflatable pillow as well, but found that a thin layer of cloth placed strategically atop one of the irregularities of the ground was more comfortable. Almost as comfortable as your inflated bladder.

You ignore all this, however; the seal between awake and asleep miraculously not having been broken yet. Drifting off back into precious unconsciousness there is an unnerving feeling. Dread. Nervousness. A subtle feeling of eyes wide open, but yours are closed. Suddenly the sound of the previous two minutes - which feels like two eternities - rushes into your ears in one moment: “wake up now, wake up. WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP!”. You are staring into eleven year old eyes, rivalling in size and intensity those of Gollum. Through unconscious channeling of your hidden sub- and unconscious genius you cajole the apparition to be quiet, turn around, put your head down on the improvised sedimentary pillow and WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP are interrupted.

Now you have been semi-awake too long to ignore the itching and other pressing matters, so you begin searching for your socks. Not your only pair of socks, mind. You packed two pairs. You were clever. You anticipated the wet. Yet, for all practical purpose and intent the three remaining _single_ socks just can not count as than one pair. They are hanging outside. Left there the previous day to dry. Forgotten for the night. The wet night. The whole one and a half pair of socks very wet. Your shoes were luckily left inside the tent. Not that it helped at all with the mud.

You are _so_ happy to be in front of a computer screen. Clean clothes. Liquids to replenish the blood supply. Straight, artificial lines all around. It does however worry you a bit that you were not even away for a mere 24 hours.

What worries you even more is that you are looking forward very much to the next trip; 72hours long.