Ray Mears - My Fake Diary
Friday, 14 March 2008
As a man of my word, I simply said "Goodbye Ozzie - see ya!"
Again Ozzie pleaded with me not to write it down and I reassured him that even if the media did get hold of it, it's simply unbelievable.
So here I am. I haven't the foggiest where I am. All I have is my diary, my trusty Swiss Army Knife and a bag of 'Goat Scratchings'.
It's pretty hot here so I'll start walking North. The sun is high in the sky so I guess its midday and so if I walk thataway I should meet the sea. I crossed a dried-up river bed called a Wadi. Then another, another and yet another.
I must have crossed about ten of them and my Swiss Army Boots were playing havoc with my verucca. I sat down, took my boots and shirt off, had a handful of Goat Scatchings and thought of the srange things I'd witnessed this week.
With all this Wadi-hopping I had been going from one ex-stream to the other.
I must be in the desert because all I could see was sand, sand, sand and the occasional Gecko.
Whatever next? I hope it's not a mirage!
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