Fans will recall that I am something of an adventurer, and, true to form, some years ago I was in Greenland, staying with the nomadic Hegulenk tribe.
General transport there is dog sleigh, and in order to keep their dogs safe from predators and protect them from the harsh winds that blow across the land, when staying anywhere for a significant amount of time, they will dig large protective holes with retractable ramps for the dogs to go down into them. This means that any predator that fancies a crack at them will have to face a whole pack in a confined space - thus maximising the dogs' chances.

Aaaaaaaaanyway, after staying with them for a few weeks, the head of the tribe's daughter and I had become quite close; I was an interesting foreigner, and she an almost Inuit-like beauty, and nature took its course.

But a few secretive liasons later, surprisingly enough she drops the bombshell on me - she is now with child.

This would not do at all, as tradition dictates that I would have to marry her and take her to start a tribe of our own.

Well, being the coward I am, I decided that that night I would steal from the camp and make my way back to Europe, and promised never to grace them with my presence again, and thus that black, starless night, I crept from my bed, gathered belongings enough to survive, made my way from the camp and promptly fell head-first into one of the dog enclosures.

I would have got away with it if it hadn't have been for those huskie pits.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 8 Jun 2010, 9:20, Reply)