A strapping young fellow, of sound mind, generous good will and hearty disposition was our Fred.

Travelled the world he did, looking for hard work, adventure, purple sunsets, star filled nights and fragrantly smelling flowers to savour.

Now, it happened one particular day, after a hard morning and afternoons trekking over hill and dale, that young Fred chanced upon a giant haystack.

"This'll do" he smiled to the world, as he set about preparing his nest for the evening and night ahead of him.

It was only mid afternoon by the time he was satisfied with his den. He had intended to use the rest of the daylight to fix his clothes that were in a bad state of repair, but, as I've said, it had been a long day, and there can be no denying how indeed tired he was, so you might imagine, that as he lay down to rest on his bedding, it didn't take at all long, before he was sound asleep..

A strange mysterious dream-filled sleep it was, full of colours and the most amazing stories. I'll really have to tell you all about some of them one day.. It was a sleep that seemed to go on forever, drifting from scene to scene, sensation to sensation.

When it finally came to an end, Fred opened his eyes.

Now.. This - is where the story truly starts.

The first thing our Fred noticed as he sniffed the air, was the most delicious of aromas.

He looked up toward the sky, and strangely, apparently, the sun had hardly moved, and yet, it had seemed like he had been asleep forever. He felt, well, extra-ordinarily well rested.

He sat up and looked about him.

Resting by his head was a small pile of designer-wear clothes, trainers, and a compact state of the art modern space tech backpack. . This together with a small hand help all in one camera, gps, mobile phone and portable computer, made him believe all his christmases had come at once.

Together with the clothes, he found a small folded piece of paper..

This is what it read:

Our Fred,

I can't possibly try to explain to you what is happening. It is the most bizarre experience. One day, I hope we will be able to sit down and I'll tell you about it, but if I write more now, you will just think I am crazy. Next time you see me, you might not recognize me. Don't be surprised.

My love to you Fred, dear one.

Isabella.

Ps. Enjoy the Taste.

"Isabella?" He thought to himself.. "Delightful girl, I haven't seen her for over a year.."

"Enjoy the taste?" .. hmm..

He stood on top of the haystack, and scoured the landscape around him hoping to catch sight of her. He called out her name. But he could never possibly have known, that by now, she was 1000's of miles away.. (Though.. that's another story..).

Still overpowered by the wonderful aroma, he finally noticed something else lying close beside him on the haystack.. A large, heavy duty spiked thing.

It didn't take him long to understand that this was the source of the exotic smell which had been tantalizing his taste buds.

Although, he'd never seen one before, he recognized immediately that this must be the infamous durian fruit he'd often heard talk of …

He was soon to discover, just how this delighted him. Never before.. - never ever before, had he ever tasted anything that remotely came close to pleasing his palate as this fruit did. He loved everything about it. It's smell, it's shell, it's flavour, it's texture…

It seemed like the day had only just begun, no longer hungry, no longer tired, no longer at all sleepy, a new set of clothes, and a mystery, that he was not to know, would take him years to solve.

He stuffed his old rags and boots into his new backpack, and, whistling a merry tune, set about on his southbound journey once more.

On he plodded, on he whistled, kicking up dust on the country lanes with his new techno-trainers, seemingly oblivious of the passing of time, and smiling inwardly at the kind gifts Isabella had mysteriously left him.

As the evening drew on, the weather began changing... Slowly at first, winds blew gently, clouds came over.

Soon the sun would begin its evening ritual of setting, and just as our Fred realised he really ought to find somewhere to spend the night, the first drops of rain began gently kissing the cheeks of his face.

Before he knew it, the whole heavens had opened up, and within minutes he was drenched to the bone, and really feeling the unusual cold for that time of year.

What to do?

Well you know how these stories go.. On he continued, becoming tireder and colder by the second. And.. Just when one thinks there's no hope left, and poor Fred will be destined to spend the night shivering and soaked under some hedgerow someplace, a light looms up in the distance..

On Fred hurries toward the gentle light ahead of him.

A farm cottage..

"I wonder who that could be, out at this time of night? And in such ghastly weather too" piped Mr. Woodly-Pike from his seat by the fire to his daughter Sarah.

"You sit there dad, I'll go and check".

Well.. There they all stood, in the hallway..

Our Fred teeth-a-chattering and dripping soggy puddles of wetness all over the hall carpet, Sarah a few feet ahead of him, and her dad at the living room doorway staring sceptically at the new visitor.

"Hu.. hu.. hello" stammered our Fred, shiveringly. "I'm'm'm our Frrred".

Well.. You may well imagine the stir Our Fred's entrance created at the Woodly-Pike household. There he was, so glad to be out of the wind and rain, but not at all certain whether he'd be invited in for the night.

He explained to them that he was just a country lad, travelling and working his way around the world.. And because the Woodly-Pike's were such trusting loving people, they never really hesitated before inviting him to thaw out before their wood-log fire.

Sarah and her father retreated to the kitchen, where Mr Woodly-Pike started heating up the pumpkin soup they'd had for dinner.

"Well, what do you think? What should we do?" Sarah asked her Father..

"I'm not so certain," her father replied "- One things for sure though, he aint no country lad - Did you see those designer wears he has on!"

"Yes, he has some of them new Techno-Trainers, and his sweatshirt's one of them fancy "globehopper" brands, - you know the ones with the tiny kangaroo on them that cost 10 times more than the QuickyMarts identical home brand."

"Yes, and did you notice those Bill-Hilly Jeans, and the moon buggy back-pack! There can be no denying it girl, he's a city-slicker for sure… But what's he doing out on a night like this?"

"We can't turn him out dad, let's put him in the spare room, he looks harmless enough, even if he is a city-slicker"

So be it they decided.. Mr. Woodly-Pike finished prepairing the pumpkin soup, while Sarah, grinningly, went off to prepare the guestroom, with a rather mischievious thought in mind.

Meanwhile.. Back by the fireplace, our Fred was slowly thawing out. His jaws had finely stopped bashing into each other, and he soaked up the warmth from the fireplace as if it were his last supper.

These seem like simple honest country folk he thought to himself, as he crouched down closer to the fire.

At that moment, Mr. Woodly-Pike walked through the door, bearing a tray of steaming hot pumpkin soup. It's pumpkin season, he muttered, so that's about all we have to eat in the house.

Fred smiled. Anything was welcome after such a wet cold experience.. He took the tray, and sat on the floor next to the fire, while Mr. Woodly-Pike added a couple of new logs, and gave it all a poke around to get going.

Fred noticed Mr. Woodly-Pike eyeing him suspisciously out of the corner of his eye, but decided to say nothing and just savour the pumpkin soup.

After a while, Mr. Woodly-Pike broke the silence: Sarah's preparing the spare room for you, but please tell us your story, what are you doing out on a night like this? Did your car break down? Are you lost? Which city are you from? Who are you?