This Morning I Woke Up in a Tent.

Nothing would be at all surprising about waking up to the sound of raindrops pattering down onto synthetic canvas if one was expecting to be camping. Such situations would perhaps be a family holiday, a Duke of Edinburgh Expedition or maybe a trip to Devon with old school friends. Confusingly, this morning I didn't think I was participating in any of the above activities. Therefore I naturally assumed that I was, of course, in Madagascar. Yes, that must be it. Having lived in my tent for three months, I could imagine it before even opening my eyes. My tent and I were probably parked alongside a pool at the foot of a towering cliff, surrounded by spiky trees and with Ring-tailed lemurs (Lemur catta) scrabbling about for their breakfast before the heat of the day kicks in.

Hang on, the heat of the day? It's bloody freezing, that can't be right.

Ah, so I'm probably further north. Perhaps I'm confused, I'm obviously travelling with Issy before heading home, maybe in Ambalavao. I don't want to go home yet, I miss everyone in Fort Dauphin already.

No wait, this still can't be right because I know what happens today...if I'm in Madagascar and I'm this cold, then this must be the last night we spent in tents before succumbing to Hotelys. But if I'm where I think I am, then how do I know this is the last night I spend in a tent?

*Sigh*, I'm going to have to open my eyes.

On looking around my one-and-a-half-man, pocket-sized tent I see my duvet, pillow, alarm clock and torch crammed in around me. Having firmly established that I did not lug a double duvet around Madagascar for three months, I must be....in Cardiff.

Thankfully I've now filled in all the pieces, and they create a picture something like this:
> Arrive home from a night out at the Union, everyone's tired except for Rachel.
> Rachel decides to sit in the garden for a spot of star-gazing.
> Rachel decides it's quite cold, and so goes to bed.
> Rachel has a ground-breaking idea. 'The garden was cold. My bed is warm. I'd rather be in the garden. Let's take the bed into the garden.'

And so it came to be that there is a tent fully erected in the back garden of a house on Mackintosh Place, complete with guy-ropes properly adjusted, pegs tapped in nice and firmly, and the porch pulled out to deflect the rain from the inner-sheet.

I feel must add that I had a very nice sleep, and that my tent is very appreciative of the unexpected use!