Maybe about 1997-ish two friends of mine, we went up wild camping. Just took a tent, a couple of beers and a bit of food. We went collecting wood and then we pitched up on the top of this hill – middle of nowhere,
no one around us. One of my friends was really the outdoor type and another was from the inner-city. He was from Glasgow. He had never been camping in his life. And I couldn’t believe how nervous he was, with all the sounds of the owls and the shrieks and the hoots. And he could hardly sleep. And we laughed it off. And he said ‘I had a terrible night, there
was all the noise outside’. He said ‘I thought it was a bear’. And we laughed it off, we
ridiculed him. Anyway, the next morning we unzip the tent and about 10 yards form the tent was the bloody stump of a sheep’s leg. And I don’t know what he heard, but there
was something going on… so at that point we just thought we’ll pack up and we’ll just move on!