After a maximum of five hours sleep, our intrepid travellers awoke to the screaming sound of an alarm just seconds after the sun had risen. The adventurer stumbled out of their arctic sleeping bad and into boots that still squelched from the previous days activities. After trying to be quiet, the traveller stomped downstairs and rushed across the raining courtyard, carrying clean possesions in a bright orange plastic bag marked with the curious name 'Sainsbury's '. The showers were breached, clothes came off and lukewarm water assaulted the travellers skin. The water flowed brown. SHower having been completed, teeth were done and soon a relatively presentable traveller emerged.

The two early risers returned just as everyone else was getting out of bed. They prepared a nourishing breakfast of congealed porridge and dishwater chocolat chaud, shouldered their bags and set off in the garish minivan. The trip lasted only twenty minutes, filled with sickness and condensation and ending only when a remote carpark was in sight. The intrepid travellers debarked and the lucky few covered their precious cargo with waterproofs. The maps were sodden, the clothing soaked through. Each team was assigned a leader, they consulted said maps and set off, cautiously following compass bearings into the mist. Visability was poor and soon our travellers were off the beaten track.

A brief pause for a snack soon turned deadly. One of the travellers (hereby referred to as Wetfish) mumbled to another about a feeling of sickness. The unfortunate ear raised the alarm and the leader suspected hypothermia. Everything happened very quickly. A small parachute in the disguise of an emergency shelter was flown, the now cold travellers left to shiver underneath its cramped cover whilst the leader phoned for help. Wetfish continued to complain. The other travellers talked to them, gave them clothes for warmth and brewed nourishing broths, but nothing helped. Wetfish remained chilled for a further two and a half hours until help came, whereby their belongings were distributed between the other meanderers and the two groups set off. Wetfish continued to complain, but our valiant travellers ignored them. ANother half-hour later, the minivans were in sight once again and Wetfish was bundled in, leaving the other travellers to discuss her patheticicity and debate the unfairness of their inability to complete the course. They went home almost four hours early.

Back at the bunk barn, female-dogging [ha! censure that!] ensued. The other teams returned, jubilant and flushed with mud, and dinner was cooked. Evening activitied commenced and bed beckoned. Super sperm may have attacked again, although pregnancy has still not been confirmed. Only time will tell.

Tune in next time for
***SPOILER***

In other news: my party this saturday-- some of my friends decided to give it a theme. Care to guess? It's pimps and wh*res. Woop-de-doo. That was so not my idea! Long day at work too, so i'll probably be late for my own party

TXF2 trailer came out! Uber-excitement!

*hugs*