Being of a squeamish disposition, I'm not sure it's entirely necessary to post this sort of thing. Oh? It is? Right-o.
In that case:
I had a similar experience, the downside being I was in Carpark Rouge where there are no bogs. I really was remarkably desperate, the fuse had about ten seconds left to burn. This was due to some cheap Boddingtons bought on the ferry which still had a yeast problem.
So I nipped into a tent handily pitched nearby, having first checked the occupants were not around. I think it belonged to some nice Germans or Dutch people and we were parked next to them. So in I went with me bog roll and black bin bag. Five minutes later, having nearly blown the back of the bag out, I tidied up and left.
I thought no more of it, until the next morning when the owners of the tent got up at about 8.00 to make a cup of coffee. They were remarkably cheerful, singing and joking. All of a sudden, I heard them go quiet. Then a terrible heaving and gakking noise could be heard, followed by some shouting. I lay on the floor feigning sleep. They packed up and left immediately. I discovered the source of their horror lying on the grass. A well soiled length of bog roll which I must have accidentally left lying in their tent. Obviously they had not seen it in the dark when they got back the night before. Poor bastards!
Question. If I ever see them again, should I aplogise?
