A mild case of Stockholm Syndrome
We’re just thawing out from having spent this weekend on the aforementioned survival course in Devon where we had to skin rabbits, build our own shelter and generally behave like Neanderthals. And believe it or not it was surprisingly fun, despite the sub zero temperatures and disgusting army rations.
As I drove down on Friday I was overcome by a desire to spend the weekend in a swanky hotel; the type with voluminous fluffy towels and delicious cream teas, not in a Devon wood. My initial impression of Nigel and Kim, our captors for the next few days, did nothing to alleviate my fears – hardcore ex-Marines in big boots and army gear. Neither did the prospect of our first task, building a ‘hasty shelter’ for the night using little more than tarpaulin and rope. But nothings ever as bad as it seems and a few hours later we were all happily hunkering down round the camp fire discovering the joys of life in the woods.
On Saturday we crammed in loads – skinning rabbits, plucking pigeons, night navigation, building a proper shelter, how to purify water, 101 ways to light a fire. Jo also taught Nigel and Kim a few of her own special survival skills. I think I can safely say that these weren’t anything they had come across before and probably won’t introduce into subsequent courses.
All in all it was a brilliant weekend and I feel sure that if we get stranded in the middle of steppe, mountain or desert we would have Nigel -AKA Uncle Nobby – and Kim’s wise words echoing in our ears. Failing that we will certainly have their numbers on speed dial.
One final thing – Jo and I have both come back suffering from a mild case of Stockholm Syndrome.