Fun Portal

I was a bit nervous about posting this on the SAAF forum, thinking they might be offended by my stories of wanton disregard for authority and general misbehaving at the time. But, after a few read-throughs, I thought: what the hell - they're either going to love it or they're going boot me off. Well, I posted a few more after this and was encouraged to keep them coming. So I guess they loved it. Hope you do too.

Howzit, everyone. First off, thanks for allowing me into the group. I was feeling nostalgic and wondering if I could find anything on the Bike Squad from the 70's. A bit of searching brought me to this forum and when I saw those photos on page one of two guys on XRs flying through the bush, it made me crazy envious. Really wish I was there! Brings back memories of the South West bush that my mates and I used to ride through on our little 50s and 125s.

In my time, the early BS was justifying itself as a public relations service (a sort of extension of the Entertainment Corps) and, although there was obviously a larger plan further down the line, it was more of a biker's playground than any kind of threat to the enemy.

In 1970, when I was in Std 6 at Lyttleton Manor, I moved from Tek Camp in Verwoerdburg to Windhoek. That 3-day trip alone by train was an adventure all by itself. At that time - certainly while I was going to school there (in Wnk) - there was no sense of conflict or even a whiff of any kind of impending `border war'. None that I was aware of, anyway.

After leaving school and working in the darkroom at the Suidwester Newspaper for a year, processing film and making the image plates for the printing presses, I got called up at the clueless age of 17 to do my 12 months `Diensplig' (the last of the 12-month January intake) at 1 Sigs in Heidelberg. I turned 18 in the army.

When the SADF okes `from the Republic' had come around to our school a couple of years previously to do their recruiting for compulsory national service, I listed my interests as sound engineering and writing. It was true, but I really thought that would leave them scratching their heads and maybe figure I'm not army material. Turns out, if you can hold a rifle, you're army material. Naturally, they put me down for Signals. Oh jees - I'm going to have to learn how to wave flags!

Although I'd been riding barefoot in the bush since I was 14 and bunked many days (weeks, actually) to take long weekends in Swakop to ride the dunes on our unroadworthy bikes with my mates and had, later - at 17 - done a stint of game herding on the Etosha border for a local game trader, it never occurred to me, as I made the 3-day train trip to Heidelberg in `the Republic', that the army would have bikes or that I would ever ride again till at least my 7-day pass. I was the only one from South West in the intake. I didn't have a license anyway to be able to ride anywhere other than off road.

Well, actually there was another guy from South West (not on my train), but it turned out he wasn't army material due to a fundamental lack of comprehension. So they sent him back to the farm in Grootfontein.

Being roofies, we were all put into the roofie building (Louw Weppener, I think it was called) and divided up into different groups according to our mustering (mine being COMSEN - telex, dispatch, langdraad, pigeon, etc.) and the other being Radio Ops (they became the Band) and I seriously forget what the other bunch were - Tiffies, I think. Hey, it was a long time ago.

Anyway, one Saturday morning, after a few weeks in basics (we didn't get weekend passes till after basics), all the COMSEN okes in our building were told by our PF Corporal to tree aan outside, even though we were dressed in our weekend civvies, where a big and intimidating-looking Staff Sergeant - whom we'd never seen before - was standing waiting for us. He had a characteristic nervous tick in his neck, like his collar was bugging him or something. O vok. Wat nou?

After we'd all gotten into a straight stripe, the Staff asked if anybody knew how to ride a motorbike. Almost all the hands went up. Those who didn't respond probably thought it was a trick question and weren't about to volunteer for niks! Seeing the abstention, some of the up hands quickly went down again.

Those (us) with hands up were told to step forward, while the rest were told to fall out and `gaan aan'. While the `smart' ones were shuffling back into the building, the Staff called us to attention, told us to report to the parade ground in 15 minutes in our browns and then left the Corporal to tree us out.

Fifteen minutes later, we were standing at ease on the earthen parade ground next to the dam, wondering if we hadn't made a mistake. We usually had the crap drilled out of us on that parade ground. But, as we all stood there, noticing the lack of power-hungry one-stripers to bark the usual drill orders at us roowers, Staff van Schalkwyk (we later named him Staff Steel, but that's another story) rode up on a 360 Yamaha, called us to attention again and gave us a good once-over. Couldn't tell if he was shaking his head in disapproval or if it was just his collar hassling him again. Inspection over, “Staan rustig”, he said casually.

When he asked who had actually ridden a bike before, only about half the hands went up. With a knowing smile, he turned and just said: “Tree uit - kom!” As we followed him to one corner of the parade ground, even I hadn't noticed the lone Honda 350XL parked there. Resplendent in its army green, it looked a bit the worse for wear. The reason would become evident in the following minutes. I just thought: wtf - the army just became my favourite place!

The Honda XL350 and the Yamaha RE360 were the largest capacity off road bikes locally available at the time and were less than a year old. It was 1974 and these were '73 models. I'd ridden 50s 100s, 125s, even a 185 Suzuki and watched the big-daddy 250XL in action in South West, dreaming of riding one. So to find myself in a place where they're giving me an XL350 to ride was like finding the holy grail.

I remember thinking: “Nooit! What kind of a test it that?” Again, the answer soon became evident. One by one, the volunteers were called forward to get on the bike, start it and ride there and back. I swear I nearly pissed myself. Some couldn't even start the 350 because of the compression and fell over trying, others stalled it and then fell off, some lost balance and crashed in a straight line, others couldn't even keep it in a straight line - one oke veered off towards the dam and bailed just in time to save the bike from being salvaged, others fell off at the other end because they couldn't stop, using their feet as brakes(!) All in all, about 25 okes made it happen, some of them quite competently, to be fair.

All this time, I was shuffling my way to the back of the Q. Being the smallest and skinniest oke there (not anymore, I'm pleased to say), I reckon they thought I was chickening out. Actually, I had a plan.

Being the last one left, all the okes who had made it were standing on one side, smirking and making comments to each other, while all the okes who didn't make it and weren't on their way to the sick bay for light duty were watching in another group to see what “Windhoek” was going to do. “Komaan, Windhoek!” They obviously thought I needed some encouragement. Siestog…

The surface was hard, some loose dirt to make traction a bit tricky - but no problem - it was just a very wide dirt road to me. At home, I had ridden my boet's Honda SL125 (first offroad bike I think with a 21 inch front wheel) and was used to jumping on the kick starter, being a bit light in the pants and all.

Seeing as the XL was already warmed up, I primed the starter just past the compression stroke and then jumped on it, cracking the throttle and snaking off in 1st, banged into 2nd and once there was enough traction, leaned back to get the front wheel off the ground for a bit, crashed into 3rd (without clutch) and then making a speedway-style turn at the other end to come back, heading straight for the Staff, gooing sideways anchors to stop right in front of him in a cloud of dust.

At first there was silence as I hit the kill switch, kicked the side stand out and hopped off with a big smile on my face. I got a few handclaps from the reject line. Staff gave me a long, hard look with that nervous tick in his neck and then said, matter-of-factly: “Ja nee - jy's nie meer Windhoek nie. Van nou af is jy Wind-gat!”

On our first official visit to the hangar-like vehicle park across the river, where the bikes were stored, I was pleasantly surprised to see quite a collection of machinery. Starting with the 1966 Triumph Tiger 650's, they were like 2-wheel tanks with ass-about-face gears and foot brake (gears on the right, brake on the left). Then there were a bunch of Honda CD 175 Twins, which some of the brass and MPs got around on and which went on to become one of the most popular commercial delivery bikes in the country.

There were also the new (1973) Honda 350 Four road bikes, about 10 of them that had some of the okes drooling - also used by MPs and some officers. Then - aaahh - a row of about 20 Honda XL350s (1973 models). That got me drooling. And, finally, there were about 5 or 6 Yamaha RE360's (with the new reed valves) - but I still only had eyes for the Hondas. I was a thumper man, through and through. All of the above were resplendent in their army green with half inch steel bash plates.

Then, to one side, there were two yellow and orange Triumph 650 `clown bikes' with offset hubs, so they rode like broncos, two Harley 1200s, one green and the other orange and yellow with a trick sidecar, which I ended up handling in the shows (yet another story).

While we were still doing our basics, we were only allowed to ride the heavy Triumphs, with the ass-about-face gears and brake. We used them during manoeuvres as dispatch bikes to deliver `secret' messages to HQ, although we mainly fetched and delivered toasted sarmies and burgers for the officers.

One of our punishments for making droog in the camp (which happened a lot) was to take the spark plugs out, put the Triumphs in 4th (only had 4 gears) and push them around the koppie - uphill and downhill and back to camp - about 3 or 4 ks as I recall - maybe a bit more. It was a big place, where the 3-week campers used to train, so it was quite a haul - all dirt roads.

As it turned out, Staff VS was actually a reasonable guy and a biker at heart. He had to afkak with us, because he was the Bike Squad 1IC. Korporaal Lerm was our 2IC, so he had to afkak with us too.

When we took the plugs out at camp, Staff told us to put them in our pockets. The RSM was there to see us off and check that we were actually pushing the bikes. As soon as we'd pushed far enough to be out of earshot, Staff would tell us to stop and yell “Vonkproppe in!” and then we'd ride almost at idle speed, so they couldn't hear us in camp, up the slopes to the other side of the koppie to a place where we could chill and have a smoke break for about half an hour. (And let the motors cool down before removing the plugs again.)

After a reasonable time he'd tell us: Vonkproppe uit!” and we'd start pushing the bikes again the rest of the way, which was mostly downhill anyway, to arrive at the camp looking like we'd all learnt our lesson, as the RSM stood by his window watching us with his trademark cup of tea, nodding approvingly, probably thinking to himself: “Ja, julle bliksems!”

With reference to Upsun's point that all the top riders and MX champions (I know that Mark Connely and Grant Maben were among them) went on to form a demo team in the mid 80's after deployment, and his comment about the old Bike Squad that: “I can tell you that it was NOT clowns on blue bikes going around in circles in an arena (blood-curdling "stunt" that is)”, I feel obliged to point out that we did all that stuff back then already - not a national MX champion among us. We were even going to do an Evel-Knievel stunt and jump over a Bedford full of troeppies - well, I was, until Staff pretzelled my bike while testing the ramp that the Tiffies had made for us. That's when we started calling him Staff Steel. (yes, another story)

There were, indeed, four clowns, dressed up in colourful dungarees and wild wigs, two of which rode the yellow and orange Triumph 650s (not blue) with offset hubs and the other two rode the Harley with the sidecar. Then there was the formation demonstration where we would all ride in a circle and stand, sit, squat, lie, and climb all over our bikes - without wobbling or breaking formation and then peel off to the middle of the circle to start the cloverleaf formation, where we rode in between each other for a couple of rounds. There were also two guys who had triumphs with special reinforced front mudguards so that they could climb over the handles, sit on the front wheel and ride the bikes backwards.

Then there was the 4-way cross jump, where four of us would gun it from opposite corners of the field and hit the ramps in the middle of the field at exactly the right moment to prevent mid-air collisions. Once, during rehearsal, the timing was spectacularly off and the oke coming towards me and the oke approaching from the left (can't for the life of me remember their names) collected each other in mid air. But they were back the following week. I think it was Varty and Moolman.

The Harley sans sidecar was used to make the human pyramid, where (usually) a minimum of 12 of us would clamber on, forming a base for the okes who climbed on top of us and then the rider (`Skrik' deWet) would take off carefully and do one full circle. The Harley was set to idle a bit high and had so much grunt that all Skrik had to do was let the clutch out slowly and we would set off just fast enough to keep balance.

The Harley with the sidecar was part of the Clown's act. One would ride, while the other sat in the sidecar. Then the rider would pitch the sidecar in the air and wobble around on two wheels, like keystone cops, while the clown in the sidecar would make like he was shitting himself and trying to jump out. Always got the crowd laughing. With the passenger moving about like that, the rider had to counter steer a bit and let it wobble for show.

So at the end of each display, everyone would take their bows in front of the grandstand / audience, except me, because I would be hidden in the sidecar (being the smallest oke). We made the switch out of sight of the spectators. I would lie/crouch down inside the sidecar, which had a disguised metal gauze panel in front to see through, a bar with an extra clutch lever and an `L' bracket connected directly to the front fork so I could steer. Then the clown would literally sit on top of me as we rode out for the finale.

At the appropriate moment, both the clowns would climb off to take a dramatic bow in front of the main crowd, leaving the Harley (also idling a bit high) in 1st gear with me holding the second clutch. At that point, I would take off and swerve around the field with the entire squad giving chase, creating the impression that the bike had a mind of its own. Sometimes, I'd turn it around as if the bike was now chasing them and they'd all suddenly run in all directions. The audiences lapped it up.

Now and again, I'd pull back hard on the steering lever to put the sidecar in the air, but only when the spectators could see the bottom of the car while it was tilted and not see me inside it. That was before the days of radio control and it was a fact that spectators absolutely believed the bike was radio controlled - sommer just because it was an army bike.

Actually, we were talking to each other all the time on the field and, at some point, one of the clowns would grab hold and say “ok - clutch” and I'd pull clutch and keep straight so both clowns could climb back on and ride off the field waving victoriously to the cheering crowd.

While I have many other stories of the shit we got up to and into, suffice it to say that a small group of us agreed that we would uphold our reputation as true bikers and defy as much authority as possible and whenever possible, since we had been told flatly that we were only ever going to be part of the public relations effort for the army and give demos for the duration of our call-up.

The only thing close to combat training we got was 3 weeks of D-formation riot control and ten (sometimes 20) bloody rounds a month at the shooting range(!), about half of which, my mate, Pottie and I put into the shooting range flag pole (with the red flag) to make it look like we couldn't shoot for shit. The gunsmith - sorry, the `armourer' - eventually gave up in disgust trying to adjust our sights when the oke in the skietgat waved his paddle to indicate yet another `miss'.

I heard via the grapevine a few years later that the pole eventually broke and fell over - don't know if it was true, but it was good to hear our rounds were on target. Truth is, we were both actually marksmen. But we were bikers first and totally prepared to forgo the potential marksman badges (basically a brooch in the shape of an R1). I'll have to tell you the whole shooting range story another time.

FYI - my old man was a Flight Sergeant who went to Egypt in WW2, trained radio ops at STT, sometimes did night duty at ZRB and represented the SADF in local and international bisley competitions.

The list goes on but, unfortunately, the sun also goes down. There just isn't enough time to share all my Bike Squad recollections at once. Like the time Pottie crashed my bike right outside the stadium in Nigel before a show, after sneaking out to the local cafe to get some slap chips. And the time the Colonel bust two MP's for AWOL when they unwittingly tried to dice him in his civvy car in the main street of Heidelberg one Saturday night on a pair of the 175 Honda twins. And the time I took down about 50 meters of barbed wire fence at full taps on one of the Triumphs when the throttle jammed open. And the time a storm hit the town and blew away the entire vehicle park and the only way to reach it was on the scramblers, because the dam wall, which, at the time, was the only access to that side of the camp, got washed away.

Thanks for the warm welcome and the positive feedback, guys! I was really worried that I might offend some folks with tales of wanton disregard for authority and a complete lack of patriotic commitment. As Tally-ho so aptly put it, it was another time and another place.

One of the less likeable members of the Squad was a weasely-looking oke from Boksburg, whose name I'll withhold for compassionate reasons. An aggressive little shit for his size (only slightly bigger than me) with pale pink skin, white hair and eyebrows. Wasn't long before we started calling him Witrot, not only because of his appearance but also his screwed up face - screwed up as in a sneer - but yes, he weren't no oil painting either. He became part of a marauding gang in Jhb afterwards - saw him once in Hillbrow the following year, looking for trouble with his entourage and I'll be surprised if he made it past 30.

Witrot liked to pick out soft targets - got his ass kicked a few times when he picked on the wrong guy and always swore bitter revenge. One of his targets was a tall, amiable Afrikaans guy that I only remember as de Wet - never actually knew his first name. Despite his size, deWet was quite a softie and a nervous guy. Witrot soon realised he was good for some moronic fun when he discovered that it was really easy to give him a fright. You could stand in front of him and go: “Ba!” and he would jump. You could do it right away again - Ba! - and he would jump again. So at every opportunity, Witrot would sneak up behind him and go “Ba!” just to see him jump, one time in the mess, while the poor oke was on his way to a seat with a tray full of chow (I ain't cleaning that up!). It worked every time. I never figured out why the guy didn't have a heart attack or something. Naturally, we called him Skrik de Wet.

Now Skrik, as I mentioned, was the Harley rider for the human pyramid, so you can imagine, while we were practicing and especially during the shows, no one dared even fart for fear of setting him off.

However, I did fall victim to his nervous condition one day. It was early days and we were still practising the pyramid and the sidecar gag on one of the terraced fields, just above the camp on the slopes of the koppie that we had to push our bikes around. The fields were actually right next to the road. We were on the top field and there was a drop of about 20 feet or so to the field below. All the bikes were parked in a row along the road side, while the back edge and the left side were lined with rocks and bush.

After of each show, everyone would take their bows (more of a ride-past, really) in front of the grandstand / audience, except me, because I would be hidden in the sidecar (being the smallest oke). We made the switch out of sight of the spectators. I would lie/crouch down inside the sidecar, which had a disguised metal gauze panel in front to see through, a bar with an extra clutch lever and an `L' bracket connected directly to the front fork so I could steer. Then the clown would literally sit on top of me as we rode out for the finale.

During the practice, although the whole squad was present, we were only using the pyramid Harleys for that session, so most of the guys were lounging about dozing or having a smoke until they were needed. For some reason, the guys who were clowns in the sidecar weren't there that day. Because it was still early days, we mostly fell off trying to get the pyramid right, so to change things up a bit, it was my turn to familiarise myself with the sidecar and to get a feel for pulling off, steering and stopping. Since Skrik already had a feel for the Harleys and the clowns weren't available, he would be the seat guy for the Harley sidecar that day.

Have to admit, it was a bit intimidating at first, especially being right next to the motor and so close to the ground in a sideways/prone position. Also, I could only really see dead ahead through the gauze panel - about 10 or 15 degrees max on either side, so when I turned, I only saw what was in front of me as it came into view.

Anyway, I soon got the hang of it, so Staff asked if I was ready to do the whole sequence of dismount and remount. Ya, let's go. Skrik would do a loop with me inside and then climb off so I could do my solo thing. The rest of the squad were called onto the field to do the `chasing' but it was Skrik that I had to listen for to say “Ok - clutch.”

Did the circle - no problem. Dismount and take off - no problem. During the `chase' I was a bit nervous of that long drop to the next field, so I kept mostly to the back end of the field for the sake of prudence. It was actually quite a lot of fun - some of the guys got into the spirit of it all and were yelling things like “Hey, stop jou donner, Ize gonna give you a ticket for speeding!”

Then I heard Skrik say “Ok - clutch.” So I pulled in the clutch and centred the lever for straight ahead. But just as Skrik was slinging his leg over, the Harley decided to backfire. Never backfired before! He froze in mid-air and landed like a statue, catching his size 12 boot on the only protruding part of the throttle cable. The Harley roared like a poked bear.

So what did I do? To stop the motor right next to me from revving itself in its glory, I let out the clutch! The poked bear took off like a stabbed rat with Skrik holding onto the handles for dear life, still frozen from the backfire and probably even more freaked out by the sudden acceleration. Seeing the edge of the drop off coming closer at a rate of knots, I pulled the clutch in again and tried to turn, but Skrik, as I said, was a big guy and the more I tried to turn, the more he fought to get control.

One thing I knew was that sometimes it is better to get on the gas to get yourself out of trouble than hit the brakes. So I let the clutch out again, causing the Harley to lurch forward again and then pulled on the steering lever with all my strength to change direction despite Skrik's frozen grip on the handles.

Of course, that was the wrong thing to do, because next thing I knew, the sidecar was in the air and we were on the verge of tipping over. So, praying that I could overcome Skrik's frozen grip again, I slammed the lever forward, only to find that skrik had let go the handles and was holding onto the side of the car so he didn't donner off the bike. The Harley pitched hard right and the sidecar slammed back down on the ground so hard that Skrik was now half inside the car and that empty air at the edge of the field was advancing really fast. At full throttle in 1st, that Harley covered a lot of ground.

As soon as the sidecar hit the ground, the Harley went into a mad spin and I had visions of the team having to dig us out of the hole it made and prayed that the sidecar's wheel didn't fold under us. But the jolt from the hard landing pulled Skrik's foot off the cable and we only did about two donuts before the revs came down and the motor finally stalled to a jerky halt.

I wasn't aware that some of the guys had to dive for their lives to avoid being run over, so when we stopped, there were a few choice words coming from the advancing lynch mob. They all thought I was just being Windgat again. But as Skrik unfolded himself off the top of me and I was able to sit up, their tune changed. I was as white as a sheet and the left side of my face was covered in blood. I obviously hit my head on the inside of the car as it came down, but with the shock, I didn't feel a thing till later.

Asking if I was ok, the guys helped me out and sat me down next to the sidecar. Automatically, I reached for the top pocket of my browns for my packet of Texans only to find every one of them in the crumpled pack was broken. Somebody offered me a Rothmans, which I refused, rather accepting a light for one of my own broken stompies. My hands were starting to shake.

Staff came over, took a look at me and told one of the guys to give me a ride to sickbay. Skrik was fine, just a bit shaken. When I came out of sickbay about half an hour later, looking like a toffee-apple with all the mercurochrome the medic put on my head, Staff was waiting outside to check on me. It was one of the few times he spoke in English. “You're walking, so you're alright. Then, after a pause, he added: “That was quick thinking - it could have been worse,” and gave me a fatherly pat on the back. Later on, Skrik came over to apologise, but it wasn't really his fault.

Even though I was given light duty for the rest of the week, I was back at the hangar the next day, ready to ride - stiff and sore as hell, just not able to wear my bush hat or any headdress. (Naturally, I took advantage of the light duty to skip a week of drill and PT.) The sidecar Harley was given a new throttle cable, which was re routed along the frame and under the tank so no part of it protruded anymore. Did the same mod for the pyramid Harley as a precaution.

First thing I did was go back to that field to check out the scene of the accident and only then realised how close we had come to going over the edge. There were three distinct tyre tracks from the fully sideways sidecar and the rear wheel groove was right on the edge of the slope. A few more centimetres and momentum would have dragged us backwards over the edge.

Please note, these posts are not in chronological order. As I crank the overloaded memory and hear the grit in the gears (and sometimes feel the missing splines), I write these recollections as they come to me, so there may well be some back and forth in the timeline.

This event took place after basics, when we graduated from the Triumphs (except for the afkak punishment) and had full time access to our bikes of choice. Yes, to a degree, we had a choice. For instance, the guys who became clowns and the ones who rode backwards obviously opted to ride the tricked out Triumphs. Some opted for the 350 fours and the more hardcore of us chose the XLs - both were used in the precision displays. As far as I can remember, none of the 360 Yammies were used in the shows. The exception was Staff VS, who always led the squad on his trademark 360 - like the dressage horse that leads the procession.

Now at some point during our basics, the bikes were all repainted in the now typical matt brown. But of course, it didn't take long for the new paint jobs to get scratched and dinged. Some minor wear and tear was acceptable, whereas more significant damage always had to be explained (like the time my bike was crashed in Nigel before a show).

We had done a few demos without screwing anything up and, aside from the 4-way cross jump, a few of us thought it was getting a bit boring. At the time, there were only two Bike Squads: ours (1Sigs) and the other at 2Sigs, which was based at Voortrekkerhoogte. I really didn't know too much about what the okes at 2 Sigs did on their bikes or if they even did shows at all (didn't really care in those days), but I figured, being 1Sigs, we should be setting the bar with a few new tricks to the shows.

By this time, I'd had my name changed from Windhoek to Windgat, I'd survived the sidecar excursion with Skrik and also survived the equivalent of a carrier landing on one of the Triumphs when I took down a section of barbed wire fence - and yet kept coming back for more. (See - I told you the timeline would go back and forth, but I'll get to the other stories another time.)

Now I mention this because Staff was inclined to listen to me when I had something to say about how we did things - I was a bit tougher and more resilient than my slight frame would suggest. It helped, too, that I was always up for trying something new. For instance, when it came for volunteers to do the 4-way cross jump, my hand was first to go up - no hesitation. What good is having a resident Windgat if you don't use him to try out stuff?

So one day, we were casually discussing the virtues of the 350XLs vs the RE360s and I don't want to cast nasturtiums on Staff's intelligence (yes, I actually meant to say aspersions), but I think he thought that the 360 was the superior bike because it had a lighter motor and was inclined to loft its front wheel in lower gears much easier than the XL. Although the 360 did have quite a bit of bottom end torque for a 2-stroke (thanks to the reed valve design), it was still a bit peaky, whereas the grunt of the XL was available over a wider band almost from idle. It's worth noting however, that despite its 360 label, the Yammie's actual displacement was only 351cc, same as the DT360, which had just come out ('74 model). Compared with the 350XL's 348cc displacement, the diffs was negligible - like 1%.

Of course, this led to an impromptu acceleration challenge between Staff and myself just to prove a point. In drag-style starts, the 360 was up in the air almost from the get-go and still managed a slight advantage off the line. Yet, when it came to whacking the throttle at low RPM in 2nd, 3rd and 4th, the XL walked it. Staff swore blind it was just because I was much lighter. Actually, he said I was lig-gat.

Now I'm sure everyone reading this knows about or has at least heard of Evel Knievel, the legendary king of motorcycle jumps. So one day I figured it was time for us to do something that no one had considered doing before - do a really big jump over something…well … really big - like a Bedford, complete with canopy, or maybe a load of roofies from the June intake. Yes, we'd been promoted to Oumanne at the time, since our Oumanne before us had all buggered off back home. Or joined PF.

I was totally up for doing the jump, since I'd learnt to get quite a bit of air on the jumps at our makeshift track at Brakwater. Also, in the Namib, we always looked for the perfect dune, like a surfer looks for the perfect wave, where it was possible to take a fast run-up on the gradual side of the dune and then get airborne for quite some distance as the dune disappears beneath you on the steep side. But if you got the angle right, the steep side of the dune dropped away at almost the same angle as your rate of descent, so you were never more than a meter or two above the surface.

The term High Alfa comes to mind- although I figure HA is more like the aircraft version of a wheelie. All you had to do was make sure you landed before the slope ended with your back wheel first and on the gas so that your front wheel didn't dig in and give you three extra octaves of vocal range as you caught your naartjies on the handles. That happened a few time to a few of us, where bike dug in and rider continued on the trajectory. As far as I know, we were all still able to reproduce later on in life.

Armed with this rationale (skipping the bit about reproduction), I put the idea to Staff one day during practice. At first, he just looked at me and said: “A Bedford?!” When I added: “And troepies on the back in full kit,” I could see the picture emerging in his mind. What better way to earn public trust than to demonstrate how we put our trust in each other's skill and precision. The clover leaf was one way, so was the human pyramid and the 4-way cross jump, but clearing a Bedford full of troepies - well, that was another level altogether. Evel Knievel se moer.

After a thoughtful moment, he asked who would do the jump. When I said I would, he just shook his head and laughed. “Jy wil you vokken nek breek!” Then, looking at me, he added: `Daar's nie light duty vir dit nie!” But after a few moments, he said he'd think about it and I figured it would probably end there. A crazy idea for sure - we're talking 1974 here.

We didn't do Bike Squad stuff every day - we also had to do COMSEN stuff, get muddied in the river during training, shoot down the range flag pole and other important things, so it was only the following week that we got together again. After reporting to the vehicle park as usual, Staff told us all to mount up and follow him. Had no idea where we were going but when we turned into camp and headed towards the admin buildings, we all thought we were about to get another bollocking from the RSM for something or other.

Instead, we hung a left towards the residential buildings, past the rugby field where all our parades where held … and - oh-oh… the sick bay! O vok - we were probably going to have to go stand in our under rods and get injections in our asses to make us more obedient, or something. I thought they sent okes to Greefswalt for that shit. No wonder Staff wouldn't tell us where we were going!

Instead, without warning, Staff went off road and led us up the slope on the left side of the field. As we crested the rise, it was impossible to miss the huge orange and yellow ramp that had been positioned diagonally (corner to corner) in the middle of the field. The Tiffies obviously didn't want anybody to miss it. It was the biggest ramp I'd seen, made out of some heavy duty timber, standing over 2 and-a-bit metres tall and about 5 metres long at least - I really don't recall the pain of the strain, the heat of the seat, the size of the rise and the angle of the dangle of every event anymore - but it was like an almost 40-degree orange cheese wedge with a big yellow stripe up the middle.

Staff had obviously decided to go with the jump idea, gone to the Tiffies to requisition `a ramp - one for the use of'. He must have given them some idea of what the ramp was for and what it had to do. We, of course, didn't know anything about it as he led us to the back of the field, opposite the grandstand, where we formed up under the tall bluegums, shut down in unison and then parked, flanked on either side by the usually harmless rugby posts.

There were various comments and speculations as the squad dismounted and approached the launch pad - the Bike Squad had been given a new toy. Now, nobody knew that I'd already volunteered for the mission, so while they were all wondering about stuff, I was already working out the trajectory and truck position, approach and departure and all that sort of stuff. By my rough calculation, run up wouldn't be a problem - the bike had enough acceleration - but there might not be enough distance to clear the Bedford, make the landing and stop with any dignity. And that launch angle was a bit hectic.

While everyone was walking around, looking up at this thing like it had landed from outer space, Staff walked gingerly up the painted ramp, not wanting to go down a slippery slope, so to speak, and stood at the top for a while. After looking down and then ahead to the departure corner, he made his way down, looked at me and said: “Jy gaan soos a mortier daar moet afvlieg om die Bedford te mis!” Actually - I had to agree with him. It was just like a mortar launcher.

After a few guys tried to walk up but came sliding down on their backsides, I took a run up and got to the top in a few strides. Shit - it was really high! A mortar launcher, indeed. But I did some split second visualisations and came up with a solution. It all depended on pegging the landing, but as luck would have it, there was a narrow path, conveniently located where the raised spectator banks joined in the corner, right in line with the LZ. That would not only extend the runoff, but the gradient also offered extra retardation if needed.

I worked out if the ramp could be extended by another metre and the height dropped about half a meter, then the trajectory could be flattened, reducing the angle of approach and departure for smoother takeoff and landing. In other words, the Bedford would be parked further away from the ramp, but the faster trajectory would clear it by roughly 2 metres. That extra retardation would make up for the lack of space. I couldn't help thinking those troepies better not chicken out and duck at the last moment, or it'll ruin the whole image.

So by trading altitude for speed and factoring in the retardation slope of the spectator bank in the extended runoff area, the jump would be faster and longer, but it'll be much softer on frame and suspension, not to mention the rider. To prove a point, I got Staff to let me demonstrate on my bike the effectiveness of the slope by taking off at the far corner of the field and then hitting the brakes at the centre line to measure a stopping distance on the level field. Then I took off from the centre line and headed for the corner where the bank was, only hitting the brakes at the touch line and then measuring the retarded braking distance using the extra slope. I was able to stop about a quarter of the way up - about two thirds of the distance achieved on the level. Point made.

After much drawing of lines and circles in the sand with sticks and the accompanying hand gestures and body movements, Staff and a few others who actually knew a bit about hard landings, eventually agreed that the long range ballistic approach was better and probably safer than the current mortar option. The other Staff Sergeant in charge of the workshop was there to represent the Tiffies and proudly present his creation and, subsequently, to take notes on the required modifications. Said he'd have it ready next week. Bakgat!

This called for a smoke break, during which, Staff asked me which bike I would use. The Honda - no question. Besides, I was used to it and liked the balance. Again, I could see something taking shape in Staff's head, as he looked from the Yammie to the Honda and then, the tell-tale look at the ramp, still standing invitingly in the middle of the field. “Huh…!” was all he said.

Despite being told that their creation was not to our requirements, the Tiffies obviously wanted some cred and had decided to get some exposure, literally, by leaving it there for the rest of the day, so everyone in the camp could gaze upon the state of their art. Have to admit, it was one moerova ramp.

But there it was, in the middle of the field, like a shy girl, obviously alone at a party, just waiting for someone to come over and ask her for a dance. It was on my mind too, I must confess, to make a first move. So I ventured that I would like to have a run at it - it's right there, so why not have a go? But as I finished stating my case, Staff stood up and said: “Die Honda, se jy?” I nodded and he headed over to my bike and started it up. Got big unspoken ups from the guys for Staff choosing my bike over the other XLs.

He rode around for a bit, throttle testing, brake testing, pulled a creditable sitting wheelie in 1st while getting a feel for the balance. In the meantime, the squad had taken to the field again for the demo and I'd taken up position in front of but to the left of the ramp, so I could watch the approach and get a close up look at the landing for when it was my turn. No way was I going to miss the opportunity.

Staff eventually positioned himself at the far corner of the field for the run up. Shit! He was going to give it the beans, even though it was a mortar launcher! Some o-vok music started playing in my head, like in the movies when bad shit is about to happen. Hell, even I was thinking of a much shorter run up and a smaller jump - and I was supposed to be the windgat!

We had been allowed to tinker a bit with the set up of our individual bikes and, aside from having a slightly different exhaust note, the suspension on my bike was set a bit softer than the rest, me being the lightest of the lot. But for the jump attempt, I would certainly have set the shocks to their hardest, but Staff was obviously satisfied - he would surely have noticed the softness when he did his throttle and brake testing. Also, the clutch and front brake levers were positioned on the handles so that I could easily do clutch and brake with two fingers while still keeping a firm grip on the handles. Quite different from the setup on Staff's 360.

My bike sounded quite different under the load of Staff's considerable weight as it put its ass down and dug a groove in the grass under full taps. Staff's right elbow was down, making sure he wrung every bit of twist out of the throttle into 2nd. I heard more o-vok music. He changed up to 3rd and was sitting fairly upright as he approached the ramp, hitting it at about 70k's or so, rising off the seat to a crouch at the last moment.

What happened next actually transpired in about 6 seconds, but it seemed to be like slow motion and take forever. There was a sound like a double kick on a bass drum, as the Honda's wheels hit the wooden ramp, suspension bottoming out against the mudguards as inertia took charge during the sudden change of direction. With no more suspension left to absorb the forces, the wooden beams on the ramp had to bend under the pressure. I was pretty sure I noticed the front wheel distorting, but it may just have been the tyre up against the mudguard.

Well, it all went tits up from there. Other, unanticipated forces came into play. The boards on the ramp had absorbed a lot of energy in downward compression and, as the back wheel passed over the middle point, that kinetic energy was released, kicking up the fully compressed back wheel. A split second later, as the front wheel came off the top of the ramp, the bottomed-out front shocks fully extended again, creating downward momentum on the front end. Basically, the bike had started to pitch forward the moment it left the ramp.

I watched in slo-mo as my machine took off more like a helicopter at full forward pitch, rotating further through its arc, till it was at a right angle to the ground. Then it started coming down. Staff was still seated on the bike - albeit horizontally - and holding grimly onto the handles when the pair of them nose-dived into the ground.

The bike dug into the grass and did one summersault, changing its direction somewhat in the process before digging into the grass again and coming to a sliding halt fairly quickly. Staff, on the other hand, hit the ground hard and seemed to take off across the grass like he was fired from a cannon, as he rolled and slithered into touch, coming to rest in a crumpled heap - out like a light.

For a moment, there was an eerie silence. Everybody stood frozen in place until the medics hit the field with the stretcher. Apparently Staff had arranged for medics to be present as a condition to get permission from the Commandant to do the stunt. I'll never forget the image of Staff coming past me on the grass in his browns, unconscious but still grunting as momentum rolled him over and over. I've come down nose-first on a couple of dunes and it sometimes took the wind out of me for a while. But this was a really big off. Sure as hell was glad it wasn't me for once.

Giving the medics space to work, they carefully loaded Staff, still unconscious, onto the stretcher and carried him off to the sickbay, which was only about 100m away, fortunately. It was a bit of a shock for the lot of us, to say the least. Who was going to be our 1IC while Staff was in hospital? And how much shit were we going to be in for what just happened? Was the jump still going to go ahead? And was Elvis really coming back?

So there was a degree of uncertainty as four of us lifted and carried the buckled remains of my bike off the field. The front forks were bent backwards and slightly to the left, folding the front wheel around the motor. The fuel tank was crumpled but intact. The back tyre was jammed against the swing arm from the summersault and the motor had broken some mountings on account of the frame was bent. My poor bike was as twisted as a pretzel. So one had to wonder what kind of condition would Staff be in. The other guys were picking up pieces of headlight glass and casing fragments from the separate speedo and rev counter dials and other bits that were strewn across the field.

About 45 minutes later, we were still searching the area in a line to find any remaining bits of debris that could possibly cause a problem for players on the field in future, when Staff, accompanied by a concerned medic, came walking down the slope and back onto the field with his left arm in a sling - and this time it was his turn to look like a toffee-apple with his head covered in mercurochrome. Spontaneously, we all formed a line and applauded as he approached with a bit of a limp but otherwise okay. One of the guys piped up: “He-ey - Staff Steel!!” and we all echoed that. We really weren't expecting him back for at least a couple of days.

First thing Staff said was: “Waar's daai vokken Honda!?” After inspecting the wreckage, he listened impatiently as I tried to explain that it wasn't the XL that did him foul, but the lack of rigidity in the ramp, since there was no support brace in the middle to stop the boards from bending. I don't think it actually made any difference to him. He was the moer-in because he'd come short in front of his squad - on this `fokken' Honda.

All in all, what had transpired that day was enough to scrap the Evel Knievel idea for safety reasons. No way was the Commandant going to let us have another shot at it. Which was a real pity, because at the time, that kind of stunt being done by the military could surely have made it into a couple of motorcycling magazines. But, while that may be so, it could also be the reason why I'm still around to tell the tale. Who knows?

Footnote: My pretzel XL was scrapped. I was given one of the spare XLs to ride for the rest of the year, but never felt quite as comfortable on it as I did the original. However, that didn't stop me from working hard to maintain my Windgat title.

For those not familiar with Afrikaans or the South African army way in general, min dae directly translated means few days. Min dae refers to the magical 40 days of service remaining. It is an accepted point at which you can consider your conscription or deployment to be a done thing. ....in 40 days' time.... However, it isn't like a birthday that you celebrate once and then get on with the rest of your year. It is a really big deal. You knew when it was 40 days when you started hearing Elvis's toon being shredded by just about every tuneless and broken voice in the camp. (I still never figured why 40 days and not 30 or 7?)

However, the 40-day rite of passage afforded you all sorts of leeway, like pulling rank (even if you didn't have any) over the newer intake for chores and errands, the right to become slapgat (lazy), to ignore rank (not above stopping a 2-pip Lute or a Captain to bum a light), come back pissed from your weekend off (still smelling of the club and your girlfriend's perfume) and only wake up in the middle of inspection on Monday morning (as the Squad Sergeant was already on his way down the passage), because, as far as the army was concerned, you were no longer 'one for the use of'.

Sometimes you got taken to task but, for the most part, you were recognised as someone who was actually being honourably discharged. If you were a Bike Squad ouman, it was a notable achievement and almost as good as a commendation!

Having survived basics, where you're pushed physically and psychologically to the point where you're quite prepared to kill someone, not necessarily the enemy, and having learnt how far you can go to get your own back without suffering the potentially harsh consequences for disobeying orders and authority in general, the freedom cry of “40 days!” is enough to throw all the resentment out the window and start thinking about how the hell you're going to reintegrate with normal society when your language (for starters) was mostly based around words beginning with v, k and p!

Actually, it was a unique army thesaurus of vulgarity, turned into formal communication. For instance, our `house' corporal, Korporaal Karstens (who was a mean drunk and a Sarge for one day until he got his new stripe taken away 24 hours later) never used standard military terms with us, instead he bellowed things like: “Moer uit!!” and “Kom staan jou donnerse gat hier, troep!” Of course, when officers were in earshot, he reverted to standard terms and reserved the abuse for when we were mostly alone. He was even meaner when he was hung over, his bloodshot eyes glowering at anyone who added to his existing headache.

Anyway, as time ran out on what seemed to be a complete lifetime, the daily life for an ouman became almost comfortable in that there was a camp full of new troops for instructors to drill and abuse into the ground. For all my references to gippoing and evading stuff, I, for one, was super fit and went from a size small to a tight fitting medium, thanks partly to the training but mostly, I suspect, to my diet of mashed potato (with lots of butter) and `dog biscuits' dunked in a canteen full of milk. I opted for that diet after I found a sheep's eyelid in my stew and vowed never to eat any meal with meat in it as long as I was there.

So with about two weeks to go before klaaring out, I, for one, spent as much time up at the bike hangar as I could to avoid being randomly assigned some menial task in the camp. The bikes only took up about 20% of the space in the hangar. There were other vehicles in there too - Bedford troop carriers (long and short wheelbase) and field water trucks, Landrover technical electronic vehicles (TEVs) and a couple of big Magirus Deutz recovery trucks and whatnot that took up most of the space. To the left of the bike area (if you're inside and facing out) was a space for Tiffies to work on vehicles and, in the far back corner, there were crates of spares and tools and other Tiffie stuff.

The areas were divided by the solid vertical supports that held up the heavy structural wooden beams, meaning there was one big sliding door for each section. There were either four or five doors (insufficient memory) on each side of our hangar and I imagine the others in the vehicle park were the same. In true hangar style, they were all clad in heavy corrugated steel - not just the roofing, but also the big sliding doors, which opened front and back, typically needing two people to get them moving.

Really can't recall what time of the day it was, but I reckon it was early afternoon. We were mulling around inside the hangar because it was a bit overcast and there was a good chance of rain, so the non-off road bikes would have a problem on the dirt roads in the wet.

When I was still at school in Windhoek, my mates and I used the dry riverbeds around the town as our own network to get around the place without licences and going on the public roads on our unroadworthy bikes. There was one particular traffic cop, on his white BMW with his long brown lace-up boots, those ridiculous brown baggy `gestapo' pants (actually that's what we had to wear when doing our shows!) and his Mark Condor sunglasses under his shiny white spiedcop helmet, who sometimes tried to intercept us as we made a dash from one riverbed to another along a section of public road. Yes, we were often chased by the cops but, ag pleez, we'd let this guy ride on the road next to us, revving the poor BM like he was in the chase of his life just to let him think he's got us pinned. But we knew he would inevitably run out of road ahead.

Sometimes, during the frequent afternoon thunderstorms, the rivers would come down in flood and regularly stop traffic. The many dips (or drifts) in the low lying roads - especially on Kleinwindhoek Rd - which were mostly dry, would suddenly be turned into impassable rivers, causing cars to back up for quite some distance. Now and again, the motorists at the front of the line would be left with their mouths hanging open as we appeared out of the bush and crossed the road in front of them - splashing through the river on our machines. I got to know those riverbeds so well that I could ride them on nights when there was enough moon. Yes, my bike had a headlight. But no, it didn't work.

So that was all just to let you know that the prospect of a bit of rain around the camp would never be a reason for me to not go out. It was orders. I'm pretty sure Staff didn't want to have to explain to the RSM or the Commandant - again - why there always a long list of spare parts for the bikes. He knew us too well to trust us out in the rain. The 350 Fours had standard road tyres and it was more like trying to ride a piece of spaghetti on a wet dirt road.

While we were plittering about, someone mentioned that there was a storm approaching and we should think about closing things up. Normally, when it rained, one or more of the doors would be open for a bit of light and to allow people to go in and out without having to roll back the big heavy doors each time. Only if it came down sideways, did we close the front doors, but then we'd open some at the back. This time, it was our (Bike Squad) door that was open, seeing as the bikes didn't obstruct as much light as the bigger trucks.

One of the other guys from elsewhere in the hangar was standing by the door looking out and he called us to come have a listen. Since the vehicle park was elevated above the rest of the camp, it was possible to see part of the town across the vale. The door was open just wide enough for three of us to stand abreast without looking like three stooges. Above the usual drone of the compressors and other mechanical stuff around the park, there was a distinct roar coming from the town.

At first, it wasn't obvious, but eventually I could see a dark and dirty grey band, like an approaching dust storm, gradually blocking the houses from view. Above that band was a wall of lighter grey, which was obviously rain. There appeared to be a wall of water on its way over. I'd seen and experienced cloudbursts before, many times in South West too, so it was going to be pretty cool to go look around and inspect what's happened afterwards.

Now, parked on the edge of (our) top terrace was a short wheelbase Bedford with a naked chassis behind - probably a water truck waiting for its tank to be fitted. We were actually looking past this truck to see the approaching storm. I noticed that the front windows of the vehicle were wide open. It had separate front windscreens that you cranked open independently. As the rain started to come down harder, I pointed this out to Staff and he told two of us (can't remember who else) to go out and close them up before the storm arrived.

So we dashed out - I got there first and climbed into the driver's side through the passenger door because the rain was already pelting the driver side. We closed the windows and were busy cranking the locks when another wave of rain poured down. There were already puddles on the ground. Staff was watching from the hangar door, which was just open enough for us to get back in and close it up. But it was already bucketing down so hard, that I suggested we sit out the storm inside the Bedford. As if in answer to that suggestion, the first really strong gust of rain and hail hit us so hard that the Bedford heaved over towards the hangar, almost going up on two wheels. Some expletives escaped. There was nothing for it but to make the dash back to the safety of the hangar.

The hail and the rain stopped suddenly, giving us a chance to cover the distance and reach the door without being pelted or soaked. We were being given the hurry-up as we approached and all we could hear over the cadenza was: “Maak toe! Maak toe!! (Close up - close up!) As soon as we were past the door, the two of us started to push it closed.

But just then, the lull before the storm ended and a powerful surge of wind, rain and hail hit the front of the hangar like a giant hand, putting so much pressure on the door that we couldn't get it to roll. Before anyone could come to help us, the door just lifted out of my hands and all hell broke loose from there.

If it wasn't for the rows of bikes parked in neat formation, the door would have crushed me and everyone else who was standing there. It was made of quarter inch corrugated steel. Instead, the rows of bikes took the hit, giving us space to duck. But having just created a huge opening, the wind came in and, with nowhere else to go, it took away part of the roof. When that happened, the massive door lifted up and took off like it was a piece of paper as the massive structural beams started snapping like firewood and the storm began dismantling the hangar and the rest of vehicle park.

The bikes were all on side stands, leaning over to the left. With no shelter from the elements, the wind just flipped them over in the other direction like they were dominoes. Pieces of tree and sections of roofing from the hangars below and all kinds of other projectiles were pelting us in our exposed positions. In desperation, I crawled under one of the short wheelbase troop carriers and hung onto the front propshaft to avoid being blown away as the giant overhead roof beams crashed in fragments and splinters on the cement floor right next to the truck. I wasn't alone there - someone else was already hanging onto the rear propshaft.

But just when we thought we'd found safe cover, the wind caught the truck's canvass canopy like a parachute and turned the vehicle over, dragging it across the concrete until it hit one of the remaining support stumps - leaving the two of us still hanging on for dear life but now exposed to the oncoming barrage of water, hail and random projectiles.

The rain and hail was stinging and debris - some of it having been carried over from the town - was still flying past like misguided missiles, ranging from bits of tree, signpost to mangled sheets of corrugated steel. I actually watched a stop sign fly by and in the middle of it all, my biker humour thought: ”Now that's my kind of stop sign!”. I also remember seeing a sizeable branch from a sizeable tree flying overhead. It was surreal.

Luckily, there wasn't anything left of our hangar to land on us, so the only threat was the hail and horizontal projectiles. It gave us a chance to duck behind some heavy crates in the corner of what used to be the fenced-off supply store - mostly full of spare bike parts and other hefty stuff. It was a fenced-in section, so the crates were mostly held in place by the chicken wire, offering some security and shelter.

Mother Nature struck without warning and, literally, blew away the exposed vehicle park. It also did quite a bit of damage to the camp below. The dam had overflowed, flooding the parade ground and washing away the wall, which doubled as the access road from the camp to the vehicle park. The overflow from the dam also made a quagmire out of the usually hard clay-based parade ground.

The wind blew with such force that it uprooted a hundred year old tree that we used to sit under next to the river during some of our theory lectures. Corporal Carstens saw the storm coming and parked his brand new pride and joy Fiat 125 Scorpion under the tree for protection from the hail. All he could retrieve after the tree fell on it was the back speakers. I saw tears in that hard-ass's eyes.

The only way to get around the camp and across the river was with the few undamaged off-road bikes. Some Captain tried to show how it should be done in a jeep but ended up being rescued by one of the bikes. So the Bike Squad was immediately put to use, ferrying the brass across the river and everywhere else to inspect the damage.

Of course, we knew where the deepest parts of the river and road ruts were - even though the deluge from the broken dam wall had washed away the usual landmarks - and made a point of 'accidentally' finding them, just to make sure the brass got their fair share of being well and truly muddied. One time, a bike was completely submerged in the river. We needed a Willy's and a winch to get it out.

When the brass realised they were going to get dunked while being ferried on the bikes and have to go through several changes of uniform, we were told to go back to using jeeps to ferry them instead. Well, the jeeps weren't exactly water and mud proof either, so we made sure there was a lot of wheel spinning and rooster tails at the right moments. “S'kuus, Majoor…”.

In between the ferrying jobs, we wasted no time in making doughnuts and our own version of the Nasca Lines on the soggy clay parade ground. No one would be doing any drill for a long time. That parade ground was hated by just about everyone, but it was also the shortest alternative detour to the other side of the camp. So there was a reason for vehicles to travel across it at the time. I use the word `travel' with a bunch of creative licence. We practiced doing four-wheel drifts and had a competition to see who could get most sideways while still going straight - if you know what I mean.

And what better way to draw suspicion away from the Bike Squad for initially carving up the parade ground than seeing how many consecutive 360's the jeeps could do on the slippery surface as we `struggled' to keep them in a straight line through the squishy clay.

I honestly don't remember too much after that, except that the roofies had a lot of cleaning up to do and the Bike Squad had a lot of fun being sent off to various locations to bring back reports and updates to the top brass. Well, I suppose we were meant to be despatch riders in any case. It provided an opportunity to do a tour of the entire camp area, including the part allocated to the 3-week campers, who were doing their required refresher courses. Spent a lot of time hosing down the bikes between excursions.

Oh - I found that stop sign, by the way. It was wedged in the ground just a few meters from the shooting range flagpole. There were also sections of roofing strewn about the range. That was a good kilometre or two from the camp.

What I do remember is that the camp actually got off quite lightly. Only a few roof tiles were lost, quite a few windows were broken and a few of the rooms in some of the buildings were flooded as a result. The vehicle park, due to its elevation, took the brunt of this surprise attack by a superpower, against which there was no defence.

Within a week, the camp was back to being more or less functional, but some of the damage was going to take a while to restore. The Tiffies - sorry - the Engineering Corps - were given the task of rebuilding the dam wall/access road, but this time with some reinforcing so it didn't wash away if too many okes took a wiz upstream.

They were also tasked with levelling the destroyed parade ground and were having a tough time getting that done because the clay base underneath was still soaked although the top had dried out. So every time they thought they'd flattened a section, there were big indentations where the front-end loader and grader passed over. I think they were actually having a bit of their own fun.

When my 40 days were finally up and my rifle and kit were handed in, it was time to go back to civvy life. I have to confess that when I left the camp dressed in my civvies, it was with mixed feelings. Freedom at last. But deep down inside, I knew there would never be another time like it. That storm was, literally, a roaring send off.

I'm glad I had the experience. Would I do it again? Not a fu… - oh, sorry - I'm not in the army anymore…. In any case, the difference between the military then and the military now is like Siberian chalk and Martian cheese. It was a once in a lifetime experience. Which is the only reason I feel in any way compelled to share it with you.

So this isn't actually the end of my story. Yes, I know, I've just klarred out and all that, but like I said earlier, the chronology is according to my recollections and the inspiration to write them out. Call it army logic. Call it faded memory. But this is not the end, okay?

I think I might just tell you the whole shooting range story next time. Gives me a giggle when I think about it. Remember what I was saying earlier about being willing to kill anyone, not necessarily the enemy….? Hold that thought.

I'm going to be taking a break, getting ready for upcoming developments and projects. Into album mode from June. Hopefully, V-Shift audio series will go into production year-end as additional streaming material. It may be a few months before the next Bike Squad post appears, so you might have to wait a while for the shooting range antics.

V-Shift is a story about time in a place and not a place in time, where energy is moulded by thought to create the common reality of the moment. This is where physics and fairytales find common ground.

Following the clues, they find themselves on the Blue World, where the traditional eggs are usually delivered in the middle of the night to sleeping, but expectant children and others of like mind.

Bunny was working overtime. There were just two weeks left till Easter and he was only half way through with wrapping the last batch of eggs. He'd never been late for Easter before and, even though he was running out of time on this occasion, he wasn't about to let there be a first time.

Now, everything would have been fine and he wouldn't be working overtime if he hadn't run out of chocolate for all the different Easter egg shapes and sizes. Bunny was so sure he had made enough chocolate. He'd never been wrong before.

The chocolate-making process and egg wrapping had to run like clockwork. Making Easter eggs for every child on Earth was a gigantic job. Unlike Santa, with his little flotilla of Christmas helpers, Easter Bunny had to work mostly alone, making his special chocolate mixture and pouring it into the Easter egg moulds and then waiting for them to harden while he went on with making the next batch. Then there was still the delicate task of wrapping each of the eggs, painting them and then storing them in to his legendary Easter Bunny chocolate cellar - without breaking a single one.

It had become a full-time job for Bunny. But now, for the first time, he had to break that clockwork routine to make another batch of chocolate and it was costing him valuable time. Every child in the world was going to wake up on Easter morning expecting to find colourful chocolate eggs scattered all over the garden and in the house. It just wouldn't do if some children woke up on Easter and there were no Easter eggs! That just wouldn't be Easter, would it?

As he toiled away, Bunny was going over the delivery route in his mind. The world was still the same size, but there were a lot more children on it and he only had one Blue World day to deliver all his special eggs. It was a frightfully big job for just one little bunny, which was exactly why it needed such a lot of careful planning and dedication.

Bunny was really focussed, painting little blue and silver stars on an egg that he had just finished wrapping, when the reassuring sound of crickets outside was suddenly broken by a strange sound that made him sit up with a jolt and look around the room to see what it could have been.

The crickets had stopped chirping. "Something must have disturbed them", Bunny thought. It was suddenly so quiet, even the night must have been holding its breath. With both his fluffy ears pricked up and twisting in all directions, Bunny couldn't hear a thing, except for his own breathing. Working those long hours into the night must be playing tricks with his imagination. He grunted and took a quick sip of his favourite carrot juice before getting back to work on the egg.

But no sooner had he continued his work, than there was that sound again! It sounded like a tiny knock on the door. Who would possibly be visiting at this time of night? Bunny put down his paintbrush and stood up very stiffly. The fatigue was setting in. Sitting down for such a long time was tiring and it was quite a strain on his back.

When Bunny opened his front door, it was pitch dark outside. He peered out into the darkness. No one was there. Maybe it was his imagination after all. But just as he was about to close the door and go back inside, he heard someone giggling behind him. Before he could even blink, three little fairies came flying past him and out through the open door, each carrying one of his carefully painted little Easter eggs!

For a while, he just stood there in the doorway, looking on in disbelief. There was no point in chasing after them. Even though he could see their little fairy lights flashing in the dark as they flew away, he knew it wasn't worth all that time just to get back three little Easter eggs.

Bunny turned back inside and closed the door slowly. He was so sad. He could never get angry because he was such a good bunny. When things upset him, he just got sad and he was sad now because fairies were supposed to be good - and it was a very sad day in Everyland to discover that there were bad fairies about.

"I wonder if this has anything to do with the missing chocolate supplies...?" Bunny thought as he scratched his chin with a fluffy paw. "Fairies! Huh! Of all people!" he muttered, sitting back down at the table to continue painting careful stars and circles on more Easter eggs.

The sun was already up and shining. Millions of tiny little dust crystals danced in the early morning light, swirled around by the invisible breeze. Chirp, Bunny's little sparrow friend, was perched on the windowsill, screeching as loudly as he could. "Bunny! Wake up! You still have millions of Easter eggs to paint!"

Bunny had fallen asleep at the table. He'd been so tired from working late, the paintbrush was still in his hand and he'd fallen asleep with the left side of his face in a dish of blue paint. Chirp got quite a fright when Bunny lifted his tired, half-blue head and looked around with bleary eyes. "Huh...?"

Bunny sat up and looked around. He was very confused. "Don't be silly, Chirp. I still have a week." he said, absently scratching the paint dish in thought - until he realised it wasn't his face.

"No you don't - I've been trying to wake you up for five days! You've been sleeping for more than a week, Bunny!" Chirp paused to let it sink in. "You don't even have a day - tomorrow is Easter! What are you going to do?"

"Oh my goodness." Bunny's voice was laced with dread. "Oh my goodness!" He stood up and walked a full circle around the table before sitting down heavily in his chair again, still very drowsy from his long sleep. He tugged gingerly at the paint dish stuck to the side of his face until it came off in his hand With half a blue face and half a fluffy white face, Bunny didn't know what to think. This had never happened before.

Bunny thought for a beat and then turned to Chirp. “I don't know for sure, with the fairies and all. I better go check my stocks and see!” he said. While Chirp was left trying to figure what the fairies had to do with anything, Bunny rushed down to his legendary Easter Bunny chocolate cellar, where he kept his precious stock of ready to go eggs. Bunny swung open the heavy wooden cellar door and froze, his face locked in disbelief. The huge cellar was completely empty. Every single one of his Easter eggs was gone!

"Oh, no!” Bunny's voice was a hoarse whisper. “It can't be!" Sitting down unsteadily on the cellar steps, his life rushed before him. He was a proud bunny. Easter was his entire purpose and the children all over the Blue World depended on him to keep that tradition. This was his worst nightmare.

"What's all this about fairies? Chirp asked as he flitted down from the banister and settled on the step next to his troubled friend. Bunny told Chirp about the noise at the door and the fairies flying away with his Easter eggs. "You must have been dreaming. Everyland fairies don't steal. That's just the way it is."

"Well these ones did and I can only suppose they took all these eggs as well." Bunny waved an arm in the general direction of the empty cellar. A small brown mouse hoppity-skipped across the empty floor, its squeak echoing in the empty space.

Chirp scratched his beak with a wing tip and looked on thoughtfully. "You know, there has to be a good reason for all of this, Bunny. Three Easter eggs and a couple of fairies could be a dream - but this ...?” Chirp was in his element. “I tell you what, you go un-paint yourself and eat something. I'm going to see what I can find out."

While it may have been a delicious mystery for Chirp to solve, it was a terrible calamity for Bunny, who remained sitting on the cellar stairs, his ears drooping and his face very glum. All he ever knew was to be the Easter Bunny. He never dreamed there would come time when he couldn't come home after hiding all the eggs around the world and feel the collective happiness of every child in the world as his special eggs were discovered. It took a whole day for Easter morning to come to all corners of the Blue World and for that whole day Bunny would feel the children's joy of waking up on Easter and discovering their magical treasures.

(You do, of course, realise that we're talking about the Easter Bunny here, right? The delivered treasures are magical because the Easter Bunny is magical, okay? Where else did you think Easter eggs came from, anyway?)

This surge of continual happiness was the energy that kept Bunny going throughout the year. He didn't care if no one saw him or even knew who he was. It wasn't about being popular. Easter Bunny was Easter Bunny - and that was that. His pleasure was to feel the happiness around the world and know that, in just one day, he was able to create a surge of joy that went right around the planet. Bunny has this kind of power and it is a jolly good thing that he can only be a good bunny or a sad bunny and never a bad bunny or an angry bunny.

With no Easter eggs to hide, there would be no surge of joy or excitement this year and, instead of feeling the collective happiness, Bunny would receive the collective sadness and disappointment as the children woke, up all excited, only to find that Easter Bunny didn't come this year. How was he going to deal with all that sadness? Who was going to explain it to the children? Bunny feared that the disappointment would be so great, that people might decide to cancel Easter in future, just to prevent the same disappointment from ever happening again.

The thought was just too much for Bunny to bear. With a huge sigh, he dropped his head onto his knees and wished, for the first time in his life, that he could be someone other than the Easter Bunny.

Meanwhile, Chirp was flying so fast and so high that he was leaving a vapour trail in his wake. From high up, he would be able to see anything that looked out of place. Someone carrying all those Easter eggs was sure going to leave some kind of a trail. But, as far as he could see in all directions, nothing seemed out of place at all.

"Well - so much for Plan A'." he thought. It was time for Plan B. Time to get help. Quickly! Not only was his friend, the legendary Easter Bunny, depending on him to find all his missing Easter eggs, but the entire tradition of chocolate eggs at Easter was at stake. A whole day of surging disappointment, as the sun brought morning to the disappointed hearts of the world, would likely be too much for Bunny to deal with. There was a good chance the Easter Bunny would simply disappear forever, wished out of existence because he only existed for that one day of happiness. Without that one special day each year to keep his magical energy cycle going, he might as well not be the Easter Bunny at all.

Dear old Chirp knew exactly what would happen if the eggs didn't turn up quickly. This was serious. And if Bunny really did see fairies flying out his door carrying little Easter eggs, then there was more to fix than just the problem of the missing eggs. Chirp would have to find out why fairies would do something like that. Fairies were known to be naughty and mischievous but they certainly didn't steal - especially not something as special as Easter eggs. That's like stealing magic!

While he streaked across the clear blue sky, Chirp tried to make sense of it all. Everyland was a place where dreams came true and where everything balanced with everything else. The very idea of fairies stealing Easter eggs went against everything that Everyland stood for. So why was it happening? What was causing it? And, most importantly, what would happen to Everyland if this were allowed to carry on?

The mystery had to be solved immediately. Tomorrow would be Easter and Bunny would be delivering his eggs as usual. It was that simple. There was no other option, because that was Chirp's magic vision - the most important part of making wishes come true. Even the slightest clue will get things rolling.

Meanwhile, on the far side of the Blue World, the sun was hanging low in the sky and millions of excited children were going to be tucked into bed in the evening, expecting the magic in the morning. Just one more sleep till the Easter Bunny comes.

Well, there wouldd be no sleep for Chirp and Bunny - besides, Bunny had already slept for a week and there was a good chance he'd have to start making his Easter eggs all over from the beginning again, this time at super-magic-bunny speed. May as well put all that sleep to good use. But even he knew it might be an impossible task, unless he could get a lot of help. The only hope now was for a small miracle.

By now, Bunny had snapped out of his depression and was working flat out on another batch of Easter eggs. Like a blurry image, the stacks of new eggs, created at super-magic-bunny speed, began to appear in the cellar once more as Bunny did his unique energiser thing. There was only enough chocolate to make eggs for a small town, but Bunny believed in the magic of Everyland. He remembered that as long as his heart was true and his thoughts were on making the children happy - and not on being angry at the fairies - then something would happen and his small little pile of Easter eggs would somehow turn into enough eggs to cover the whole Blue World. He had absolutely no idea how it was going to happen. He just believed that it would. Nothing was going to stop him from being the Easter Bunny. Nothing. That was his magic image.

At exactly the same time that Bunny was thinking about Chirp, Chirp was thinking about Bunny. He was worried about his furry friend. This was a terrible thing to happen to such a kind and friendly bunny. The responsibility of Easter tradition, as the world knew it, rested on this gentle bunny's shoulders. Being such a soft and cuddly little creature, the weight of a disappointed world would most certainly crush him.

Chirp had been flying for some time and had covered quite a distance. He was approaching the magical No Mountain Range, which was almost at the end of EveryLand and still nothing seemed out of place.

But wait a second... Chirp was flying so fast, his feathers got all ruffled when he suddenly looked down and to his right as something on the ground caught his eye. There was something shiny down there, so he swooped down for a closer look. With his sharp eyesight, Chirp could already make out the shape of the object even though he was still very high up in the sky. It looked like a tiny little rabbit, dressed in shiny silver and gold. As he circled closer to the ground, Chirp could see that it was, indeed, a tiny rabbit dressed in shiny silver and gold. In fact, it looked surprisingly like his friend, the Easter Bunny.

Swooping in to make a soft landing nearby the rabbit, Chirp assessed the situation through slit eyes and a great deal of concentration. Something was very wrong with this picture. Something was definitely odd...

Landing at a safe distance, Chirp cocked his head to one side and eyed the little rabbit with interest. "Hey, there - the rabbit." he hailed. Waiting a while and getting no reaction, he continued. "My name is Chirp", he said. "I haven't seen you around here before - where would you be coming from?"

Still no answer. So Chirp hopped a bit loser. He was curious now, wondering why this strange rabbit would choose not to even acknowledge that he was there. Talking was something animals and toys couldn't do normally and it was a special magic in Everyland that let everything talk to everything else - trees, stones, mountains, flowers, animals, everything. That's why it's called Everyland. He thought that maybe this rabbit had just arrived and didn't know that it was okay to talk. With those enormous ears, he must certainly be able to hear.

"Omigosh..!" Chirp chirped. He hopped a hesitant step nearer for a closer look at this poor dead rabbit and was even more surprised to see that the gold and silver clothes weren't clothes at all. It was shiny wrapping paper.

He wondered then, if he wasn't dead and he wasn't talking, what kind of rabbit was this exactly? Suddenly it dawned on him. This was no rabbit at all. It was something covered in shiny paper and which was cunningly made to look like a rabbit. With bristling excitement and renewed curiosity, Chirp looked for the join in the gold and silver covering and lifted it so that he could see underneath.

Chirp was so surprised that he hopped back a few steps. "This is amazing!" he said out loud. His mind became a blur of questions and puzzles. What would a chocolate rabbit be doing in the middle of nowhere? Where did it come from and how did it get there? He also had to tell Bunny about this. Just a pity the chocolate rabbit was so big, otherwise he'd take it back to Bunny's house. Instead, Chirp pecked off a little piece of the chocolate and flew away at super-Chirp speed with the evidence firmly in his beak. Bunny was the undisputed chocolate specialist. Maybe he would know where it came from - then the first part of the mystery would be solved.

Meanwhile, back at Easter Bunny's house, time was marching on. There were only a few more hours left before he'd have to start delivering the eggs - that's if he was going to be ready on time. He'd already used the last of his chocolate supply to make a final stack of eggs and was busy putting the finishing touches to the last few, when Chirp landed on the window sill with the piece of chocolate in his beak.

Chirp hopped onto the table and dropped the piece of chocolate in front of Bunny. "I found this at the foot of the No Mountains. You're not going to believe it, but this is part of a chocolate rabbit that's wrapped in shiny painted paper - and it looks... well, just like you," Chirp reported. "It was too big for me to carry, so I thought that if I brought you some of the chocolate, you might be able to tell where it came from and who made it."

Bunny picked up the piece of chocolate with two fingers and examined it before taking a small bite and sampling it. It didn't even take a second - he immediately said: "But - this is my chocolate! No doubt about it." He put the whole piece in his mouth, tasted it for a few seconds and nodded a few times. "This is definitely my chocolate! No doubt about it." He stood up quickly, still smacking his lips as he tested the aftertaste and started towards the door. "There's no time to waste, Chirp. Take me to this chocolate rabbit."

Chirp could fly really fast but he was no match for Bunny, who could cover the whole world with a heavy load of Easter eggs in just one night. He knew he would just slow Bunny down so, before taking off, Chirp explained exactly where to find the chocolate rabbit, knowing his friend would get there well before him.

Bunny was already crouched next to the little chocolate rabbit when Chirp eventually landed, ice cracking off his wings from altitude. Paying no attention to Chirp's de-icing procedure, Bunny was crouched down and pointing to the bottom of the chocolate rabbit. "Look here, Chirp." There was a large dent where the wrapping had been crumpled, which indicated that this little rabbit had been dropped. "What do you make of this?"

Chirp gave Bunny a sideways look. "A flying rabbit?” They both thought about it for a beat, before Chirp responded. “Nah! Either that or he was being carried by someone who can fl..." Chirp trailed off in mid sentence as the realisation hit them both at the same time.

"Well, if you take a straight line from your house to here", Chirp drew an imaginary line in the sand in front of him, "and carry on with it, you end up..." Chirp spun around to point at the mountain directly behind them, "... there."

"Oh, no - No Mountain!" Bunny said with a heavy sigh. Sizing up at the imposing range of towering outcrops, Bunny continued: "It would seem that someone has used my chocolate to make little rabbits - and that same someone has taken them to the Blue World." He turned to aim a worried look at Chirp. "What's going on, Chirp? Why would someone want to steal my chocolate to make silly rabbits - and just before Easter at that?"

Leaving the chocolate rabbit behind, Bunny sped off towards No Mountain, waiting occasionally for Chirp to catch up. Chirp not only had sharp eyes, but - as tiny as it might be - he had a sharp mind too. Bunny knew that while he was clearly faster, Chirp was unquestionably smarter - even if he did occasionally display a rather spontaneous temper. Chirp had a sharp eye for things, so it was worth waiting for him.

No Mountain was really just a name given to a strange part of the mountains where mist permanently covered everything and, basically, wherever you looked, you just saw - well, nothing. It was sometimes so thick that you couldn't even see a hand in front of your face. There may as well be no mountain.

The mist was actually just a symbolic shroud of mystery - and the mountain range was actually a secret doorway into other worlds and places, where only a few Everyland people were able to go without a good chance of being lost forever. The Easter bunny was one such people and he had no problem finding his way around. He's Easter Bunny, remember? Chirp had never been to No Mountain before but he knew enough about most things to be sure he wouldn't get lost. Obviously, the fairies also knew about No Mountain.

Higher and higher Bunny and Chirp climbed along an invisible path. Thicker and thicker the mist became. Bunny glanced behind and couldn't see Chirp anywhere. "Chirp!" he called out. "Don't get lost now. Follow my voice...". No sooner had he spoken the words than Chirp appeared almost directly in front of Bunny's face.

Bunny grunted. "It's a magical place - there's a lot of energy here. This is where many strange and different worlds come together - a kind of merging of passages with doors leading off to each different place, each giving off its own strange kind of energy. Some of the places are so strange to us that we just can't exist there. People come here to the `conquer' No Mountain and they never return. On rare occasions someone has stumbled on a door that opens and they end up in a world that's so strange, they don't know what to make of anything and so they never get out. Nothing makes any sense in these worlds and even the door you walk through to get in, disappears once you're in."

"But things don't make that kind of sense in a lot of these strange worlds. What makes sense to us here doesn't always make sense to us in there. If it all made sense, it wouldn't be strange, now would it? So just because the door was there when you came in, doesn't mean its going to be there for you when you want to go out. All the doors in this passage are only there for you to enter the other worlds. You have to come back out of those worlds through the door that only that world gives you to come out of - not the door that this world gives you to go in. You follow?"

Bunny was impressed and chuckled. "That's very good, Chirp. I don't think you need to worry about getting lost here. If you want to go in, find the entrance. If you want to come out, find the exit. That's the secret to moving in and out of other worlds, no matter how strange they are. It's the one rule that never changes. And, speaking of worlds, here's the one we're looking for."

"It's not really mist, Chirp. It's actually mystery. Everything here is shrouded in magical mystery - until you find what it is you're looking for, of course. Then, it's not a mystery anymore and everything you need to know just finds you. Anyway, real mist is only a rain cloud that's sleeping on the job."

"Then let's get on with it." Chirp muttered. "All this mysterious magical misty stuff is making my eyes all squiffy." He added for effect: “I think I know what a drunk squirrel feels like.”

Bunny chuckled for the first time in days. Without bothering to open the door, he stepped through it with a grim-faced Chirp gripping tightly on Bunny's shoulder. Bunny cautioned: "Hey, watch it with the claws, will you...?"

On the other side of the door, Bunny and Chirp found themselves in a completely different reality. In the blackness of a twinkling space, the Blue World simply hung there before them, like a giant, swirling blue and white crystal sphere. It was simply the most startling thing that Chirp had ever seen. There were no borders to divide it, no fences to protect it and no pipes to feed or sustain it. But what put the finishing touch to the already breathtaking view was the large, cratered grey moon, floating off to one side, lit up like a monument by the blinding sun in the black distant yonder.

"Wo-owww!!" was all Chirp could manage. If he hadn't been gripping so tightly on Bunny's shoulder, Chirp might have fallen over in absolute amazement. He gazed at the view before him, unaware, completely, that his beak was hanging open. Recovering control of his beak, he asked a question without looking away: "Is this where Easter happens every year?”

But the Blue World was going to be a very unhappy shade of blue in the morning unless the missing Easter eggs could be delivered in time. The evening side of the planet was approaching the start of delivery night, as the planet turned slowly on its axis to keep the regular day/night cycle in motion.

"No time to waste, I'm afraid." Bunny reminded. "You take the Southern Hemisphere and I'll take the North. You know what to look for." Bunny turned to dart off around half the world but stopped and turned one last time to his friend and added: "Look for any sign of a miracle." Without waiting for a reaction, Bunny gave one enormous leap and sped off faster than a bullet.

With nothing but empty space where Bunny had been just a moment ago, Chirp turned and, with a quick flick of his tail, launched himself into the great emptiness. To his further amazement, he seemed to be moving almost a hundred times faster than he was used to. "Maybe faster than a speeding fairy..." he smiled to himself.

The planet below him still floated in the middle of nowhere. It was mostly blue and white and it sparkled like a jewel. As stunning as it may be, somewhere down there was the answer to their problem. As Bunny had said many times before, a mystery is only something you don't know anything about - yet. Which meant that for there to be a mystery at all, there would have to be an answer somewhere. And the trick was to know just where to look for the clues that would lead you to the answer.

Clues. Look for the clues - even tiny, subtle hints. Sometimes, they can be obvious. Anything you can connect to your mystery will, almost certainly be something you should take notice of. Chirp loved a good mystery and they didn't come any better than this.

Suddenly, an eerie-looking monstrosity came speeding up towards him, approaching from the left, with long, spindly arms outstretched, narrowly missing him as it careened past at an impressive speed. But the near miss was close enough that it knocked poor Chirp off balance and sent him tumbling out of control and at great speed towards the planet. He was beginning to feel the heat from re-entry friction when, just as suddenly, Chirp felt something very strong close in around him and everything went dark. For an instant, he panicked. It had come back for him! "The monster's got me!! HELP!!"

"Don't get yourself in a flap, now." Bunny's soothing voice brought instant calm. Bunny opened his hands to reveal a safe, but ruffled, sparrow whose heart was beating like a paradiddle. "Sorry about that - I forgot to warn you about the satellites."

"Only if you get in their way." Bunny laughed. "Most of them just whizz around the planet all the time like complicated mirrors. The people down there send messages all the way up here just to bounce them back down again. Seems kind of pointless, I know, but that's what they are. The Blue World people can't yet understand that they can communicate with anything anywhere - instantly. "

"Weapons?” Chirp looked upwards, scanning his long term memory. “Hey - wea-pons… I haven't heard that word in - well, ever. I thought that whole period of destroying things you were afraid of was done and dusted like a million years ago.” Chirp glanced around and gestured with a sweeping wing. " Look at this place. Who do they think is going to attack them from out here? The Easter Bunny???"

Wiping the laughing tears from his eyes, Bunny steadied himself in space. With a final chuckle, he held out a hand for Chirp to steady himself. "Nice one, Chirp. I needed that!" Chirp found his footing on Bunny's hand and fluffed himself back into his normal unruffled condition. Bunny continued: "But I also need to find my eggs before it's too late. Are you okay to fly?"

"Neither rain or snow..." Chirp quipped as he stretched his wings in anticipation. "In fact, last one to find an Easter egg is a rotten one!" He launched himself from Bunny's hand with a flurry of whirring and determined wings, leaving Bunny to spin around and hare off in the opposite direction again.

The sparkling white and blue planet looked like it could be a mystical place too - floating there in the middle of a twinkling, black space. As it floated there, it appeared to have everything it needed to take care of itself. Had to be magical.

The closer and closer Chirp got to the planet, the bigger and bigger it appeared. "Just how big is this place, anyway?" he wondered aloud. From way out in space, it looked like a large ball but from close up, it was a massive expanse of water and land that curved away as far as he could see.

Chirp could begin to make out distinct mountain ranges and valleys, cities and even roads. It was as if he was travelling through an invisible magnifying glass that was exposing more and more detail on the surface of the planet as he approached. "Paint my tail!" he exclaimed. "How the heck do you find a million Easter eggs in a place this big?"

Deciding to avoid the grey and stinky patches of city, Chirp decided to stick to the kinds of creatures he was used to associating with. It seemed that the people of the forests and jungles were more knowledgeable in general about natural things than the people of the cities. Besides, it would be easier to see if something was out of place in a natural environment than in an unnatural one. It was hard to tell if something was out of place in a city because the cities, themselves, were out of place with everything around them. Just too much unnatural stuff going on there. Not easy to find clues either. So Chirp headed for the largest and greenest part of the planet and found himself in the heart of the unexplored Jamazon Jungle.

Finally reaching the highest branches of the jungle canopy, Chirp knew only that he was in the middle of an enormously huge forest. Somewhere off in the distance, he could hear a deep, thunderous rumble. It seemed to be coming from the same location as a strange cloud of sparkling white mist that rose some distance off on the horizon, above the carpet of trees. Around him, he could hear the chirps and songs of others like himself - strange calls that made no sense to a talking bird from Everyland. "I guess some places just don't evolve as fast as others," he thought to himself with an air of superiority.

Hopping from tree to tree, Chirp looked in all directions and as far as his keen eyes could see. Nothing. Not a clue. He flitted down a few branches, passing a strange, slow-moving monkey-like creature with long, orange fur that paid him no attention at all. On the ground below, more birds darted about their business. Small groups of birds and antelope grazed peacefully in the speckled light. It was the most peaceful place Chirp had ever seen. "If I can ever find my way through the right door in No Mountain again, I think I'll come here for the Everyland winter next year. Beats having to go south every time."

As beautiful and calm as the setting was, Chirp knew he wouldn't find any clues as long as he was thinking about his next holiday. So he flew from branch to branch, gaining height to reach the top of the green, living canopy of the forest. Even in Everyland, Chirp had never seen trees growing so high and he began wondering what would happen if one of them should fall over - if it would create a domino effect and continue knocking down every other tree in the forest. In his tiny mind, Chirp thought it might explain some of the wide-open spaces he had seen before coming to rest in the forest.

Suddenly, a tiny silver streak caught the corner of his eye and he spun around to see a familiar-looking fairy streaking low over the treetops in the distance. "A-ha!" he smirked. "Trying to dodge the radar, are you? Well let's see just how good your flimsy little wings are, you thieving little Easter egg grabber!" With his eyes narrowed into tiny little slits and beak clenched in grim determination, Chirp launched himself after the departing fairy with serious intent.

The trees below became a blur of light and dark greens. The horizon flashed past as he used his super Everyland speed to pursue the fairy. They were flying barely inches from the treetops but Chirp thought that he would give the little fairy a flying lesson and demonstrate just how it should be done.

But, just as he was closing in on the unsuspecting fairy, another of those strange monkey-like creatures popped its head out above the branches - directly in front of Chirp. Being so close to the trees and flying so fast, Chirp didn't see the creature in time.

Bunny had also come to ground, but having been to the planet many times, he at least had some idea of where to begin looking. He was in the middle of an Ingleish moor, where there were thousands of burrows and other bunnies like himself. Being no stranger to the planet, Bunny had learnt to speak some of the local Ingleish bunny lingo and thought it would be a good idea to see if he could get some information that might point him in the right direction.

After many attempts to get his question understood by the locals, the only broken words he was able to get out of the bunny population in Ingleand were "boo-hoo, funny". He tried another family of bunnies further north and they seemed to have only the same words to say: "boo-hoo funny".

Scratching his brow, Bunny sat outside the last burrow in the field and wondered: "They're all saying the same thing - 'boo-hoo funny' - but what does it mean?" He walked away deep in thought. "It makes no sense at all. Then again - I wonder if I made any sense to them when I asked them about the fairies...?"

He was about to take off in another direction, to find some answers that actually made sense, when a soft, silky voice called out to him. "Excuse me, Mr. Easter Bunny..." Bunny spun around and found himself looking into the softest, roundest, deepest, bluest eyes he had ever seen. "I hear you're trying to solve the mystery of some missing Easter eggs."

If fluffy white bunnies were all cute and cuddly, this was the fluffiest, whitest and cutest and cuddliest of them all. And Bunny didn't quite know what to say, do or feel. He just stood there for a few moments, completely lost for words. The cuddly bunny blinked and twitched its nose, allowing Bunny time to compose himself. "Er, .. ah - yes, that's twue - I mean true, miss." Bunny finally responded. "But you have me at a slight disadvantage here - you know me and I just know that I don't know who you are, because if I did, I'd never need another introduction!"

"Oh, you charmer, you..." the cuddly bunny chuckled. "I know you've been thinking that you came to the wrong place to solve your mystery. But I'm very happy to tell you that you've come to exactly the right place. I've been looking very forward to this meeting." She hopped a few inches closer and held out a paw. "I'm Bubu. And I'm very pleased to meet you."

Bunny reached out and touched Bubu's paw. The tingling feeling that came over him was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The whole reason for being there was forgotten. Easter and the missing eggs were just a distant memory. He just knew that whatever happened from that moment on, nothing would ever be the same again. "H - hello. I'm very pleased to be making your acquaintance, Bubu."

For a few seconds, Bunny stood dead still, touching Bubu's paw and staring into her eyes. Finally, he snapped out of it and withdrew his paw slowly. "Then you must be 'boo-hoo funny' - Bubu bunny." he remarked. "So how is it that you seem to know what I'm looking for and where I need to be to find it, Bubu?"

"Here's an even better idea. I have a really nice surprise for you. But first, why don't you let me make you some fresh carrot juice before I take you there?" Bubu offered, taking Bunny by the paw and leading him off to the last burrow in the field, wher Bunnyhad just been standing. "I live just over there. And the surprise isn't very far from here"

Bunny looked up at the climbing sun, realising time was marching on. Torn between the urgency of finding his supply of eggs and the temptation of having a glass of his favourite carrot juice with a really cute lady bunny, he decided to stay calm and take the opportunities as they presented themselves. "Just a quick one, then." he conceded, allowing Bubu to lead him to her burrow at quite a leisurely pace.

Slowly, Chirp regained consciousness. Things were a bit grey and fuzzy for a few seconds before he was finally able to focus. It seemed as though he was on a bed inside a large tree that had had been hollowed out. Whoever lived there was quite handy and house proud - it was immaculately maintained with neat supplies and ornaments placed on neatly erected shelves. Directly in front of him was an open window through which he could hear the lazy chattering of birds and bugs outside.

"Oh, so you're finally back with us are you?" a gruff old voice crooned behind him. Chirp tried to turn, but the pain was too bad. "You just lay still now, little fella. That was quite a wallop you took out there. Where on earth did you learn to fly so fast? And why?"

"Can't say I've ever heard of the place. But I still say there's a lot to be said for caution and stealth rather than out and out speed, you know". The gruff voice moved into view. It belonged to an old, grey spotted owl - complete with horn-rimmed spectacles and carrying a small, wooden bowl containing a steaming brew.

Chirp had been carefully wrapped in a giant leaf and the bump on his head had already been treated with a sticky substance. "Don't touch that unless you really have to." the owl advised. "It'll heal soon enough," he held the bowl closer for Chirp to drink. “And some of this ought to have you back on the wing in no time. I used it myself for bumps and grazes when I was younger.

Chirp raised himself unsteadily and took a few sips of the brew. It was surprisingly tasty, so he took a few more sips before settling down on the bed again. "Its very kind of you to have taken care of me, sir." Chirp said. " I don't remember what happened at all."

The old owl chuckled and pointed upwards. "Well, there's a giant Sloth somewhere out there with a fierce headache who's very much in the same boat. The only difference is, you've got someone to explain it to you. He, on the other hand, will never know what hit him. Luckily for you, I was shaking out my rug when you came tumbling down through the branches, otherwise you'd have gone straight to ground and been scavenger food for sure."

"Most magic carpet ride I bet you've ever had." the owl chuckled, managing to coax a smile from Chirp. "Name's Angus. But everyone around here just calls me Hooter. And you're welcome."

"Not too sure, actually." Angus ventured. All I know is that I can fly for miles in any direction and everything looks pretty much the same as it does right here. It's a big forest here with everything I need and that's all I've ever needed to know. Once, I followed the river for four days and all I ever saw was a group of curious brown creatures that walk on their hind legs and make strange noises while they deliberately bounce up and down around a fire. Sometimes they even climb into hollow logs and push themselves around on the river. Strange lot."

Angus was very quick to reply, almost cautious in his tone. "Also a strange place. I've seen things going on there that I couldn't begin to explain. It's where the river falls and the smoke rises. I've heard of people going there - never to come back. They say it's the door to another world, a world of strange goings-on.

Chirp thought for a while. "Well, if you think the falling river with rising smoke is a weird place, you might have a bit of a hard time with Everyland. Around there, everything can talk - birds, cats, dogs, trees, stones, flowers... It's a magical place where whatever you believe, actually happens."

"Stolen Easter eggs, actually. You see, my friend, the Easter Bunny also lives in Everyland and every year he makes millions of chocolate eggs and wraps them in shiny, colourful paper. Then he makes the trip here to happy the hearts of children all over the planet by delivering his eggs to their homes..."

"Oh, I don't know - something about being old and wise, I suppose. It was the biggest disappointment of my life when I stopped getting Easter eggs. I always thought I'd done something wrong, so I stopped hoping..." his voice trailed off as he stood looking out of the window. "And here you come, falling out of the sky - not just his friend, but you're here together... Almost against all odds, isn't it?"

Chirp looked at him sideways. "Come on - can birds really fly...? Of course I can do that - he's my friend. And you're never too old to believe in the Easter Bunny. But he's going to be my saddest friend if I don't help him solve the mystery of the missing eggs.” Chirp stood up stiffly. “So, I have to thank you again for your kindness and hospitality and be on my way."

“Never actually left the area, huh?” Chirp looked at Angus for a while. "I don't think its going to work, Hooter. I tell you what - just point me in the general direction of the falling river with rising smoke - and if I need someone to help me out, I'll be back here like a teenager out of money. How's that sound?"

"Chirp hopped from the bed to the window sill. "You're a good owl person, Angus. I promise I'll be back with Bunny and we can have a good laugh about all of this soon. But now, I have to be going. Thank you once again, old friend and it was a real pleasure meeting you - even if it was painful."

Heading in the direction that Hooter had shown him, Chirp set off to find the place where the river falls and the smoke rises. Having no idea what he would find, Chirp couldn't even guess what he was going to do when he got there. All he knew was that Bunny must have been worrying himself sick about the missing Easter eggs and they just had to be found at all costs.

Finally, he found the huge river, which coursed its wide way through the forest like a shiny black, giant snake. Angus had told him to follow the river from his house - it would take him directly to the place where the river falls and the smoke rises. With clear air under his wings and an unobstructed view of the treetops before him, it was a matter of seconds before Chirp was once again soaring over the forest. In the distance, he could once again see the cloud of mist rising above the forest. This time, he flew a good distance above the trees. His head still hurt from the unexpected meeting with the sloth.

As he followed the dark, snake-like river below, the cloud of mist grew larger in his view. He could also hear the thunderous rumble growing louder. Still unafraid, he flew ahead until the cloud was directly in front of him. Climbing steeply, Chirp gained height so that he could get above the cloud and check it out from a safe distance.

"Wow!" he exclaimed for the second time since stepping through the blue door in No Mountain. Below him roared the most spectacularly high and wide waterfall he had ever seen. "This place is almost as amazing as Everyland!" he thought.

The river opened up to about five times its width as it plummeted for what seemed like an eternity to the bottom of a sheer cliff face and into a chasm that was about as wide as a great lake at the bottom. It was as if the river was falling over the edge of the earth, becoming vaporised on its way down. As far as the eye could see, the vegetation below was bright green and lush from the continuous shower of fine spray. Millions of volcanic years ago, the earth must have shifted and heaved violently to create the sudden and sheer drop. The river was left with no choice but to plummet down and down, for a kilometre or more - until finally gathering itself again in the great lake below to continue its journey through the rest of the forest and on - to who knows where.

As Chirp glided down in a gentle spiral and admired the awesome view, he caught a telltale glint out the corner of his eye again. There was no mistaking it. Not one fairy - but a group of them - flitting about merrily in the spray about half way down the waterfall, holding hands and creating patterns like skydivers in the spray. "Gotcha!" he exclaimed.

With the spectacular waterfall completely forgotten, Chirp dived down, aiming directly for the group of frolicking fairies, coming at them from out of the spray so that they wouldn't see him until it was too late.

At the last moment, one of the fairies saw Chirp approaching with menacing intent and sounded an alarm. There was a moment of confusion as they all tried to take evasive action, but Chirp was already upon them, grasping one with a claw as he ploughed into the bunch of them.

But he was going too fast. With the extra weight of the fairy, he wouldn't be able to pull out of the plummeting dive in time to miss the trees below. So he released the fairy from his clutches and strained with all his might to twist and turn out of the dive - just narrowly missing the top branches of the trees below. “What is it with me and treetops today?!” he yelled in frustration.

Up and up he rocketed, back to where the fairies had been. Scanning in all directions, he could see nothing but the haze of the waterfall. The fairies had vanished. But just at the last moment, his keen eyes caught a glimpse of the fairy he had released, as it flew with frantic haste towards the middle of the plummeting sheet of water. "You're mine, this time, you little magic mosquito," he growled as he homed in on the frantic fairy once again. But just as he was sure to catch the fairy, it disappeared into a patch of particularly thick mist, seeming to fly directly into the sheet of water.

"What the..?" Chirp paused only long enough to find the point where the fairy had disappeared and followed at full speed through the patch of mist and into the sheet of cascading water - not taking his eyes off the spot where he had last seen the fairy.

To his complete surprise, he wasn't pummelled by the weight of the falling water as he had expected. Instead, he had to swiftly dodge a jutting rock, which offered a narrow space to enter through the sheet of water and follow along the sheer rock face for a short distance. As spectacular as the occasion was, with a cascading sheet of water on one side and a sheer cliff face on the other, Chirp was in no mood to be praising the scenery. The fairy obviously had a secret cave somewhere and he wasn't about to lose his way again.

And sure enough, the fairy eventually darted sharply right and seemed to fly directly into the rock face. "Nice try, little firefly - but you're playing with the big boys now!" With feathers trimmed for maximum air contact, Chirp followed the fairy's trail, making the hard, high-speed turn directly into the rock face with complete confidence that there would be a space to fly through.

Quite a crowd had gathered outside Bubu's burrow. News that the Easter Bunny was spending time in the area had spread quickly and was causing quite a stir - especially among the children of the Burrowmoore neighbourhood. Inside her burrow, Bubu was pouring fresh carrot juice for Bunny, unaware of the stir and commotion going on outside.

"You see," Bubu was explaining, "the Fairy Queen and I are old friends - we met some time ago at a forest planting party that was arranged by Griddy, an old goblin friend of mine. Griddy is an unstoppable organiser - always something on the boil." She paused to pass the glass of juice to Bunny, taking a dainty sip from her own glass in the process. "So, anyway, we got talking about some of the big events that happen regularly on the Blue World and the subject of Easter came up as one of the big five events of the year. On the list were Christmas Time, Easter Time, Birthday Time, Tooth Fairy Time and Play Time. They remained the top five events.

“So, Fairy Queen thought it would be really nice to find some way to honour all the hard work that goes into making Easter the tradition that it's become. Although she had never met you, the Fairy Queen knows the fairies that sometimes helped you. They had told her how much hard work goes into just making the Easter eggs for all the children in the world, let alone delivering them."

"Of course it is," Bubu assured him. "And that was why she decided that, instead of taking you away from your work to come to a party, she would organise another kind of surprise for you."

"And so she planned to have your fairies make some chocolate shapes in the form of little Easter Bunnies - little chocolate rabbits. She told them to make sure that everyone in the world received one, so that they would know what the person, who made all the colourful little eggs, looked like."

"That's very nice." Bunny conceded. "But it still doesn't explain why the fairies have been stealing my chocolate - or why they took all my eggs while I was sleeping! I've come all the way out here because, I must admit, I'm really worried."

Bubu giggled. Don't be such a worry-pot. They weren't stealing your chocolate. If anything, it was an honest mistake. You see, the Fairy Queen needed some of your special chocolate so that she could make a spell and turn it into much, much more chocolate, enough for the fairies to begin making the little chocolate rabbits."

Bubu looked down at her paws, hoping that she would get the right words. "She didn't. She only needed one tiny piece. Bubu looked up at him with adoring eyes. "But the fairies all love you so much that when they heard the Fairy Queen needed a piece of your chocolate, they all wanted to help and they all went to your house to bring back a sample of your chocolate. So, by the time the Fairy Queen discovered what had happened, the fairies had brought your entire supply of Easter eggs - and you were already busy making more. Even though it concerned her that you might be worried about having to make more chocolate, she didn't want to spoil the surprise."

Bubu put her glass down hurriedly and took Bunny's glass from his hand, also putting it down on the table then grabbed his paw, leading him towards the burrow door. "All this talk of surprises - I've got one for you that I just know is going to make you happy again! Come! Let me show you something that will make everything all right again."

With a last, longing look at the glass of carrot juice on the table, Bunny allowed himself to be led out of the burrow by the cutest little Inglish country bunny he'd ever laid eyes on. "Is this going to help me solve my problem, Bubu?" he asked, trying not to appear ungrateful for what she was trying to do.

The crowd outside Bubu's burrow parted suddenly as the two emerged. There was a moment of hush, followed by a sudden, raucous cheer as the Inglish moor bunnies saw the Easter Bunny in person for the first time and gave vent to their overwhelming excitement.

Bubu smiled at Bunny, stepped forward and knocked on the rock - a curious little rat-a-tat-tat knock, which was obviously a secret code. A little to the left of where they were standing, a section of the heavy rock began to move outwards with a deep rumbling sound. When it had extended about a metre or so, it glowed a bluish-white colour and then began changing its shape, turning into a grand little gondola, adorned with flowers and magic sparkles. There were two fairies, front and rear, to carry the gondola. One of them opened a door at the side of the gondola and gestured for Bunny and Bubu to climb aboard.

The gondola was padded inside with soft, fluffy fur in a multitude of colours. The two facing seats were adorned with brightly woven cloth and silver braid, padded with luxuriously soft cushions to sit on and lean against. Bunny was impressed. "I should get myself one of these in Everyland." he joked as the fairies lifted them up and they began to move through the opening in the rock face.

The narrow passage soon opened into a grand hall, so high, it was difficult to see the roof and so wide he couldn't tell where it ended. "What do they do here?" he asked Bubu. "Build planets?"

Bubu just giggled, giving him a wry look. As they floated across the massive hall, Bunny noticed that there was a lot of activity about. Fairies of all types were flying around, some carrying brightly coloured baskets, others carrying huge sheets of what looked like mirror glass. Further on, a number of hefty goblins were straining to push five of six heavy carts that were heaped full of something - he couldn't tell what the cargo was because the carts were all covered with yellow and green leaves, which had been sewn together to make large tarpaulins.

As he glided along in the comfort of the gondola, Bunny couldn't help but notice that Bubu was struggling to contain herself. She began giggling, trying to catch herself by holding a paw up to her mouth. "What are you so excited about?" Bunny smiled broadly at her.

With the deafening noise of the water now receding behind him, Chirp found himself flying through a narrow, curved passage - a fissure in the rock face, going deep into the cliff. Compared to the slight chill of the mist outside, the air inside the passage was warm and dry as he turned sharply left and then right and left again, zigzagging in hot pursuit. The little fairy was a bit more agile than Chirp, despite his Everyland speed, and the best he could manage was to stay just close enough to catch short glimpses of the fairy as it disappeared around the next corner.

After swerving left and right for what seemed to be the longest time, the passage suddenly straightened into a wide, rectangular corridor, tapering off into the distance with similar passages leading off on both sides. Just ahead, Chirp caught clear sight of the fairy, flying as fast as its little wings could carry it. With the twists and turns behind them, Chirp had the advantage of straight-line speed and immediately began closing the gap. Looking over its shoulder, the fairy gave a tiny shriek of fright and turned sharply to dart down one of the side passages.

Since he was so close to the fairy, Chirp was unable to make the turn in time. With wings spread out for maximum braking, he made the tightest U-turn and zoomed down the side passage in pursuit once again. He was angry at himself, annoyed at being caught out by a stupid little fairy. "Good thing there isn't such a creature as an Jamazonian rock-faced passage sloth.." he said angrily. The last time he missed a turn at high speed, he ended up drinking Hooter's medicinal brew. Chirp prided himself on his unbeatable flying skills and it was just not good enough to be out-manoeuvred by a fairy.

"I'll get you for that, you little...". Chirp's confidence was cut short as he realised that the fairy was nowhere to be seen. "Oh, no!" he cursed. "No. No - no - no!" Slowing down a little, to look around for any other passages he might have missed, Chirp's temper was beginning to boil. It was one thing to be out-flown by a fairy. It was entirely another matter to be made a fool of by one. "Enjoy your freedom, you little thief. I'm not going to stop till I find you." Chirp turned back, expecting to find some kind of secret door or an opening of some kind that he might have missed at high speed. But there was nothing. No sign of the fairy and no sign of any opening or secret passage. "Something's not right here." he muttered to himself as he went back and forth to double check the walls for possible escape routes. Still, he found nothing.

Looking ahead, he could only see the tunnel disappearing into the distance, narrowing into a small point as it continued dead straight into the distance. "A dead straight tunnel with no escape route..." he pondered. "I have a fairy that disappears into thin...." Like an explosion, the realisation hit him. He suddenly remembered that fairies were able to make themselves invisible - it was their only way of protecting themselves. For only a few seconds at a time, they could disappear to make a getaway possible when there was real danger. Chirp's determination was certainly a danger and he was most definitely not allowing any room for escape.

So there he was, in a maze of passages, seemingly alone except for the possible presence of an invisible fairy. But Chirp was no fool. He knew that the fairy would have to become visible again soon. He had every intention of being around when it happened. So he flew back to the corner of the side passage and waited, just outside of it so that he could see all the way down the main passage too.

It was dead quiet. All Chirp could hear was his own ragged breathing from the excitement of the chase and a slight ringing sound in his head. He perched there at the junction of the two passages for some time, waiting for the fairy to materialise. Suddenly it dawned on him that the fairy could be watching him. Or, even worse, it could already have flown away down any one of the other tunnels and he would be none the wiser. "Just how long, exactly, could a fairy stay invisible?" he thought. A few seconds? A few minutes? It was one of those theories about fairies that no one really knew anything about for sure.

Suddenly, there was a deep, thundering rumble that shook the whole mountain. Chirp sat dead still, looking up at the roof of the passage, hoping with all his heart that nothing was going to come tumbling down on his head. Then, as quickly as it had began, the rumble subsided, followed by the deafening silence once more.

"Whew! What the heck was that?" Chirp wondered to himself. Deciding that it would be better to investigate the maze of passages instead of just hanging around, he flitted from one passage entrance to the next, peering carefully down each one for any sign of a fairy. "What is this place, anyway?" he wondered to himself. "These are no ordinary passages." He supposed that some ancient civilisation had lived there thousands of years ago. "I wonder if anyone knows about this place?" he thought. Then he added loudly, as if to frighten the fairy into making a move, "I wonder if anyone knows its being used by thieving little fairies..?"

No sooner had he spoken, than he heard the tiniest little squeal coming from one of the side passages directly in front of him. "Aha!" Chirp said triumphantly. "Can't take the pressure, can you?" He darted around the corner, spreading his wings out to look as big and frightening as possible. Sure enough, there was the little fairy, hovering high in a corner of the passage and quivering with fright. With his most menacing expression, Chirp advanced on the fairy, slowly at first, gaining speed as he approached, meaning to catch his slippery little adversary and not letting it escape his clutches again.

As he approached, the little fairy just hovered there, quivering and making squeaky little whimpering sounds. Chirp didn't care how frightened the fairy might be. His friend was in trouble because of these little creatures and he wanted answers from whomever he could get them - and right in front of him hovered his only lead. With one of the fairies as captive, Chirp was sure he'd have the co-operation of all the other fairies to get to the bottom of the mystery. Although to Chirp, it was no real mystery. Bunny had seen the fairies flying off with his Easter eggs and now Chirp was going to get them back - whatever it took. Time was running out for the Easter Bunny.

But, once again, just as Chirp was about to apprehend the fairy, it disappeared right before his eyes. Making a wild lunge at the space where the fairy had been hovering, Chirp ended up hugging himself in mid-air. Dropping to the ground in frustration, he couldn't contain his frustration. "Aaaarrghh!" he screamed, looking wildly down the passage and then back to the entrance. There was no trace of a fairy. "So close!" he said angrily. "I could see the whites of its eyes." he muttered.

But then, he finally got the break he was hoping for. A telltale wisp of dust twirled off a ledge just at the entrance to the passage, where it joined the main hallway. Without making a sound, Chirp instinctively took off in hot pursuit of the invisible fairy, who was trying to make its getaway. It may well have succeeded once again if its frantic wings hadn't disturbed the centuries-old dust that had collected in the unused passages. Realising that it had been discovered, the fairy became visible again to conserve energy and proceeded to fly for its life down the main passage with a furious and determined Chirp in hot pursuit.

The gondola floated effortlessly through the great hall as the activity continued all around. Bunny was fascinated by the strange collection of creatures that were buzzing about. There were big and small fairies, strange and normal-looking gnomes, curious animal-like creatures and even a few small dragons, all walking or flying about in all directions. Some were appearing out of huge, angular holes in the wall, passages leading to unknown wonders. Some creatures were flying into similar portals on the opposite side of the big hall. There were even more like it in the sky-high roof. Flying up into them made the creatures and their cargo appear as if they were tiny and being sucked up through the roof.

"Actually this is a part of your surprise," Bubu volunteered, "It is also the best kept secret in our world. Very, very few people are ever lucky enough to be right in the heart of Everyland."

"This is the home of the Fairy Queen - Everyland's reason for existing. And this," she gestured widely to the hall, "is how all the wishes in the world get to where they're meant to be.

Bunny raised both eyebrows in surprise as he continued looking around. "Oh." He was thoughtful for a while as he watched the activity from the moving gondola. "It's quite fantastic - I haven't even seen anything like this in Everyland." he noted.

Bubu smiled, reaching out to put a paw on Bunny's knee. "Don't be disappointed, Bunny, but Everyland is everywhere - on this side of space, that side of space and everywhere else in between that you could imagine." As she spoke, Bubu made wide gestures with her paws for emphasis.

"Then - then how come I don't know about this place? I know just about every place in Everyland and most other worlds. This - is a big place. How do you hide it so that no one finds it?" he questioned.

"No," Bubu agreed, "but you have been past it every year for as long as you've been delivering your Easter eggs. This," she gestured around to the entire hall, "this is the inside of No Mountain." She gave Bunny a teasing look and raised her eyebrows to emphasise her statement. "Welcome home." she smiled.

For a while, Bunny was at a loss for words. A few times he tried to say something, but the words just wouldn't form in his mouth. Bubu watched closely, observing his reaction with interest. She found it very charming that such an important bunny wasn't shy to admit that there were some things he didn't know anything about.

"That's right," Bubu interrupted. "Those passages all lead to other parts of Everyland. They are shrouded in magical mist to scare non-believers away.” While Bunny absorbed that, Bubu seemed lost in her thought stream, staring blankly at the gondola floor. “It is quite astonishing how easily the non-believers are discouraged by a little bit of mist. If they can't see anything, they don't know what to believe in. Without something to see, their own thoughts run wild and they get the `willies', as they call it. They need to see something before they will believe it's there. So the mist is a natural test of faith, but they fail and retreat to the safety of what they can see and touch, warning others to expect fearful things."

“Most of them, yes - not all. Some believe with all their hearts and you can see their energy clearly, but most believe the magic must happen first, before the wish is made or the spell is cast, avoiding the disappointment if it doesn't come true. These poor people seem to have lost their connection with magic and don't know how to fix it.”

“Now that's sad.” Bunny wore a troubled expression for a while, but soon came back to the matter at hand. "What about all the other real places I remember going to deliver my eggs? Are they...?" He trailed off again, confused and not entirely sure of how to put his question.

Bubu came to his rescue. "Those places are all real. But every real place has an Everyland too, just like every town in the Blue World has a take-out or a gas station or a town hall” She shrugged her shoulders in afterthought. “Or an estate agent. Just because you arrive in a town and you don't see one, doesn't mean its not there somewhere - see?" She smiled with her head to one side.

Bubu sighed. She could obviously not keep her feelings hidden anymore. "I've had a crush on you since I graduated from lettuce to carrots! I think you are just the nicest bunny ever. There - that's how it is."

Bunny was quite unsure of how to take Bubu's directness, so he tried the unruffled response: "Ah - that would explain it." After a moment's pause, he continued. "With all of those tunnels, leading to all those places - its like total access to everywhere." He was taking in the surroundings, more to avoid making eye contact with Bubu, but the spectacle of Everyland's heartbeat was a riveting vision to behold.

Bubu nodded in agreement. "That's why it's such a secret. With all these different ways to reach all the different parts of Everyland, we have to be careful who knows about it and who gets in. But we make that quite simple. It doesn't matter what you say or what you try to do, if you're not in tune with magic, you'll never get access to it. It's that simple. If magic is not in your energy library, you will never find it.”

“Right.” Bubu summarised the idea. “When you are in tune with what you know in your heart and you turn up the volume, so to speak, then you open the door to all the magic that is also in tune with you.

“Now, this particular area is very special,” she emphasised, “ because it's where the Fairy Queen makes wishes come true and where all of the magic in Everyland arrives and is packaged and sent on to its wish destination. Those wishes, those delicate packages of sincerity need complete safety and tranquillity to be pure, otherw ....."

All the busy creatures froze in alarm as a tiny fairy came blasting frantically out of one of the angular portals in the wall, screaming in a shrill, quaveringly terrified voice: "Help! He-elp - he's after mee!!"

One of the creatures in flight was about to enter the same opening, but instead, let go of its basket of goods as it backed away in fright. The basket fell some way, crashing noisily through one of the mirror-like frames, which was being carried by a blue and white dragon and a brown, tree-like troll. The frame shattered into hundreds of pieces, creating pandemonium and panic as everyone below looked up and saw the glittering shower of mirror fragments raining down on them.

The dragon and the troll immediately fled for their lives, not sure what else might come crashing down on their heads. The stunned souls below eventually jerked to life and began scattering in all confused directions.

The tranquillity and serenity of moments before was turned into a frightening, confusing chaos, as all dignity and pomp was thrown aside in a moment of startled surprise. Not a single soul would ever have imagined that something so terrible and bad should ever find its way into the Fairy Queen's sanctuary, putting the worst fear into the hearts of the peace-loving inhabitants. It was completely out of place for something like this to be happening in, of all places, the Fairy Queen's home!

The little fairy darted wildly in different directions like a stray bullet, causing the other creatures to scatter and duck. The poor little creature was in a blind, desperate panic and didn't know which way to go or how to get there. Through all the commotion, the fairy almost crashed into Bunny and Bubu's gondola, but Bunny reacted instinctively, reaching out to gently catch the little fairy in his cupped hands, just like he did with Chirp in space. The little creature's heart was beating overtime as it cowered in the safety of Bunny's hands. No sooner had the fairy found safety than there was further commotion as somebody shouted: "Intruder! There's an intruder coming!!"

With the entire hall already in a state of pandemonium, the warning of an intruder now sent every creature scattering in frantic confusion, all looking to get away to any available safety.

The only person not crashing madly about was a tall wizard with a blue and white outfit, pointed hat in matching colours and all. He stood where he was, while everyone else dodged to avoid him, being the only stationery object in the entire hall. But bravery was failing him. What began as a fearless confidence in his magic, turned into panic as he began muttering spells and thumbing frantically through his magic book to cast himself out of there.

The four fairies, which were carrying the gondola, also fled in panic upon hearing the intruder alarm - one of them electing to leap into the gondola with Bunny and Bubu. With the sudden realisation that no one was carrying the gondola anymore, the occupants held on tightly as it fell and crashed to the ground, only to add even more confusion to the chaos. Luckily it remained intact and the soft padding inside ensured that no one was hurt.

Several of the fleeing creatures above, accidentally collided with one another. Here and there, creatures on the ground were forced to forget their own plight momentarily, suddenly leaping in all fashions and directions to catch the occasional plummeting victim of a mid-air collision.

Bunny took in the situation, shaking his head and wondering who could have created this kind of situation in a world where you only get what you create. There would have to be an awesome amount of power behind a thought that could create this kind of havoc and completely undo the Fairy Queen's own powerful work. Realising that all the creatures in the hall were comprehensively frightened, it was clear that none of them was willing to even look at the intruder, let alone see it off. So Bunny handed the shaken fairy to Bubu and shouted above the commotion: "Here - hold onto her. I'd better go see what I can do." As Bubu cradled the shivering fairy in her fluffy paws, Bunny leapt from the gondola and sped up towards the angular hole in the wall, dodging the madly fleeing creatures and other plummeting objects on the way.

Expecting the worst, Bunny steeled himself for a serious challenge. Whatever it was, this intruder-thing, it had an awful lot of destructive power. These poor, helpless creatures had no idea of how to defend themselves and someone had to at lest try to repel this dangerous threat. With no thought of taking any nonsense from anyone or anything, Bunny took up position on the edge of the opening, ready to face the approaching danger.

Suddenly, a huge shadow slid across one side of the passage where there was a curve in its direction. Swallowing hard, Bunny stood his ground as the shadow loomed closer and became longer, spreading itself towards the opening like a slithering blob. A horrible whirring and a whooshing sound also became louder as the shadow approached ominously, getting closer and closer, until its head suddenly came into view and lunged towards the opening.

This was more gruesome and awful than Bunny could ever have imagined. Sweating with fear, he bravely stood his ground while the intruder's flailing mandibles approached with blinding speed! Just as what appeared to be the creature's head came within a few metres of him, Bunny was suddenly frozen in a state of complete confusion. The approaching creature let out a ghastly, gargling and screeching noise as it seemed to explode suddenly in a puff of feathers, stopping barely inches from bunny's face, which was now locked in a very confused frown.

The light shining from inside the passage threw a dramatic shadow on the opposite wall of the big hall, almost like a silhouette movie screen, making the confrontation seem much larger than life. An immediate hush came over the entire hall as the two characters stood there, face to face - barely inches away from each other at the edge of the large opening.

Bunny only relaxed for a moment at the pleasure of seeing his dear friend. But then he suddenly remembered the intruder and said to Chirp: "Well, never mind that for now - scary entrance and all, but you couldn't have arrived at a better time! Some scary intruder has chased a terrified fairy down this passage and frightened her completely out of her wits."

Chirp raised an eyebrow in interest. " Well, I've just chased a fairy through a jungle and a waterfall and a maze of passages - I even have a bump on my head to prove it!” He looked up at his friend. “You suppose it could be related?"

"Bunny spread his arms in relief. "You mean…. so you're the intruder?!!" Bunny took a few steps and sat down at the edge of the passage with his legs dangling and burst out laughing.

Bunny was cut short as Chirp interjected accusingly. "She's one of the fairies that stole your Easter eggs - that's why I was chasing her! And she's only dead lucky I haven't caught her yet!"

Bunny held up a paw. "Steady on now - steady on. There's no need to catch anyone anymore. I know what's been going on and it's nobody's fault - really, so relax a while. I'll explain everything later." Then he stood up and gestured to the carnage below. "But first, we have to go down there and sort a few things out.”

At that moment, loud majestic music suddenly filled the hall, sounding like it was coming out of the walls. Everyone turned to look towards the far end. The creatures below immediately began clearing a narrow path, forming a royal welcoming party, as a truly glittering spectacle floated into view.

For a moment, things didn't compute in Chirp's tiny mind. "I don't get it!" he said for the second time, scratching his head. "What are we doing in the Fairy Queen's palace - at the same time? " he demanded to know. "We're supposed to be on different sides of the planet?!".

"It's quite a long story, Chirp - but I think, first, we'd better get ready to meet our hostess." Bunny said, standing up. "Follow me." They glided down towards where Bubu and the fairy were waiting patiently in the gondola. "And be cool with the fairy, okay?" he warned Chirp. "She's down there, in the gondola with a friend of mine - and she's not the enemy. Alright?"

"Yea, yea, yea!" Chirp muttered in submission. "Easter's in a few hours - you just lost all your eggs and I just knocked myself out trying to find out why! But never mind that," he added cynically, "I'll try to forget a-ll about that and be 'nice' to the fairy."

Still seated in the grounded gondola, a bemused Bubu sat patiently with the little fairy on her lap, peering through the crowd of creatures, trying to see what the approaching commotion was all about. Her face lit up as Bunny approached to the gondola. "I'm glad to see you back in one piece!" she said - cautiously adding, "What happened to the intruder?"

Bunny held out a hand for Chirp to land on. "Bubu - meet my friend, Chirp. Chirp - meet Bubu." Then, addressing the fairy on Bubu's lap, he continued with the introduction. "Fairy, meet my friend Chirp, who is very sorry he chased you. Chirp," Bunny glanced warningly at his friend, "meet a fairy, who's recovering from a frightening ordeal."

Before the introductions could be formalised between Chirp and the nervous fairy, the Fairy Queen's procession approached the gondola, forcing the group to turn around and face the glittering spectacle.

Floating in a radiant crystal sphere, just above the entourage of sparkling and glittering creatures of unfathomable origin, the Fairy Queen seemed almost amused by the mess and confusion that lay scattered throughout the hall. She glanced around casually, as if summing up the character of the individual who created this spectacle. She only seemed amused by it all because she understood that such ability merely demonstrated great promise - once the rough edges were removed.

In a glance, the Fairy Queen had pretty much summed up Chirp's personality. Very potent little bird. Lots of heart. Lots of promise and potential. Faithful and dedicated. But so impatient. All at the time.

Even to the creatures who lived in the palace and who saw the Fairy Queen on a regular basis, every meeting was spectacular - she always made an impressive entrance. Contrary to what most folks might think, she's not a fantasy or a myth. She's a real person, who became the Fairy Queen because she believed with all her heart and without faltering, despite severe challenges and, sometimes, hurtful discouragement. She wasn't born with her powers. In her lowest moments, she became the energy she had wished for.

At one time, she was a little girl herself, lonely and miserable - wishing every day that her deepest wish for just a moment of happiness could come true. At that time, she was a light in a dark place, a place so dark that there was no place in it for light. But she kept the wish alive every day by believing in her inner light.

In a very short time, this lonely girl became so serene and radiant in her own belief that she became too bright for the darkness to contain anymore. But she didn't need to move. The darkness could simply not exist in the same world as light and just as simply disappeared. This was the power of eternal magic at work. As the bubble of darkness and uncertainty disappeared, the little girl's inner light was immediately recognised by other light energies. The strength of her belief in just a moment of happiness was so strong that it was the strongest and brightest light ever seen. Having chased away the darkness and become the brightest point in her new world, she was accepted by others like her as their leader - their queen.

So she became the Fairy Queen. With such a strong connection with magic, it seemed fitting that she would create a magical place, assisted by the many other points of light - her fairies - where no heartfelt wish would ever go ungranted. But that's another story altogether.

To say the least, the Fairy Queen was a stunning and agelessly beautiful fairy with a voice like music, a heart of pure crystal and the gift of magic. But it was the heart that made the idea of Everyland possible - and made it so fragile and vulnerable at the same time. It was also the most protected heart known to anyone. It represented the heart of Everyland and, if anything were to happen to the Fairy Queen's heart - sadness or heartache of any kind, it would mean the end of Everyland's purity and magic. The darkness was always looking for a way in.

This is also why the Fairy Queen - despite her beauty and goodness - has never found romance. Prince Charming, it seems, has not yet found his way to Fairyland. Or he was not yet a believer - otherwise he would be there.

Adding to her magnificent appearance, the Fairy Queen's dress was made of crystal panels, carefully designed geometric shapes - layered specially to meet exactly the right tone of musical 'tinkle' as she moved. The dress sparkled as if it contained a million tiny lights. Yet, to the touch, it was softer than water and, when she moved, it flowed like a delicate silk. Some say it's not the dress that makes her movement flowing - rather, it's the way the Fairy Queen moves that makes the dress follow the same flowing motion. She is the best of everything that she wished she could be. She creates her own world with such belief that she has an eternal following and that's why millions of people who have never met her want to be part of her world too.

The entourage stopped roughly ten paces from the gondola, bringing a complete hush over the hall. The grand music echoed faintly away as the sphere continued to float silently towards the gondola. Bunny couldn't help but stare at the stunning vision approaching him, being in complete awe of the radiance and love that he felt beaming out from the Fairy Queen. The sphere came to a stop right next to the gondola. Then she stepped through the sphere and floated next to the grounded gondola, addressing Bubu, first.

"Hello, Boo. I see your part of the plan worked." As she spoke, the Fairy Queen gracefully held out a hand as a signal for the two fairies in the gondola to come to her. After settling the fairies on her shoulder, she turned to Bunny and smiled. "And how are you, my dear Bunny." She once again extended a hand, this time to Bunny, who took it gently in his paw.

"Quite fine, I suspect, thank you, your Highness." Bunny said, bowing slightly. Then, with a smile, he added: "Although there is the matter of a small mystery that I wouldn't mind a few answers to."

The Fairy Queen was gracious in her apology. "Yes, I seem to have underestimated your standing in Everyland - something I intend to remedy - with your permission, of course. I had no idea that you were so loved by all the fairies. Although," she added playfully, "now that I've finally met you, I can understand why."

For the first time he could remember, Bunny blushed. Bubu noticed this and, from inside the gondola, she reached out to pat him on the shoulder and said jokingly: "I wish I could have that effect on him!"

"Well, I have an idea." the Fairy Queen said. She made a gesture with one hand and the sphere began to move forward, growing larger so that it could contain the whole group. With another hand movement, the great hall was instantly returned to its tidy, organised and serene state. "Let's go somewhere where we can relax a while - and then I'll tell you all a fairy tale that will make complete sense of everything."

The crystal sphere seemed to go from standstill to zoom in a split second and yet there seemed to be no sense of motion inside. Quicker than even the Easter Bunny could have taken them, they found themselves in yet another hall, slightly smaller than the last one but with only one doorway. This hall was filled with gentle, changing colours and faint vibrations. All around, there were scattered cushions, seating contraptions of all descriptions and, placed on a platform of pure diamond, was the Fairy Queen's throne. They were inside the Throne Room of Fairyland.

Bubu giggled. Bunny just managed a wry smile. While dismissing the sphere, the Fairy Queen responded to the humorous crack. "Not exactly, Chirp, it has more to do with your own patience - as opposed to a doctor's patients.

"So I'm impulsive." Chirp replied with a degree of resignation. His part in all of this was still not clear in his mind. As far as he was concerned, a few turns back around a few corners and down a few passages would take him back to where the river falls and the smoke rises. And Bunny should be somewhere on the topside of the planet. So how could they both be in the same place at the same time? He just couldn't work it out.

No sooner had the group arrived, than they were being waited on by a squadron of 12 well-rehearsed fairies who did a superb job of laying out a complete snack buffet befitting a fairytale.

With his favourite carrot juice refreshment in hand, Bunny waited for Bubu's promised surprise to be revealed. Perched on the backrest of his chair, Chirp waited for the whole confusing thing to make sense. He was also wondering whether he was really in trouble or not for chasing the fairy. Seen against his background of having once painted a witch's cat white just to get even, chasing a fairy in Everyland could be seen in the same light as spear fishing in an aquarium. At least, this time he came well connected through his guest-of-honour friend, Bunny. So it'll probably be nothing, he thought.

The Fairy Queen settled herself into her throne and called her fairy maids closer. While they polished the dress, did the nail-thing and generally pampered her, the Fairy Queen began her promised tale.

"Once upon a time, there was a dear, sweet bunny who lived in a dying forest somewhere on the slopes of a cloudy mountain. He was all alone and without anyone to play with or to talk to. He was the only living creature remaining in the dying forest. All other animals and creatures had already left or died of starvation. But, somehow, this bunny managed to survive, even if it meant a hungry winter or two. His burrow was beneath one of the few living trees in the forest.

"The little bunny didn't really know what was keeping him in the dying forest. At the rate the forest was dying, there would soon be no food, fuel or shelter of any kind in the forest and the coming winter would probably be his last. But he just couldn't imagine leaving his home to go anywhere else.

"The sun was arcing lower every day. He had to decide soon whether he was going to take on the long trek to get out of his forest and, hopefully, before winter came, find another place where there was food and shelter. Or he had to decide whether he was going to stay in the dying forest and take on the icy cold winter with pitifully inadequate supplies.

"That evening, the bunny stared at the darkening horizon, right on up until it gave way to the twinkling backdrop of night. He was slightly agitated, clearly torn between the need to find food and the wish that something could bring the forest back to life. Something seemed to be telling him that tomorrow would be the day of no turning back. But - which way? To go, or stay?

"That night, unable to outstare the night sky for a moment longer, the bunny fell into a deep, but troubled sleep. In that sleep, he had a dream and in that dream, the bunny was a dying tree, empty and bare, cold and ill. Then a bird flew by and, seeing the tree, settled on it and immediately began building a nest. As happy as the tree was to have the company and to feel the pleasure of holding a nest again after such a long time, it felt it had to tell the mother bird that the nest might not be so safe in the middle of a dying forest.

"When the bird again returned with a beak full of nesting materials, the tree told her about its sickness and of the dying forest. To the tree's complete surprise, the mother bird simply said that it was none of her concern and that trees have always been expected to provide safe support for nests.

Suddenly the tree's problem had all but disappeared. The safety of a nest is a personal nurturing issue with trees. If this stupid bird insisted on building its nest and the sickness eventually made the tree fall over, the new babies would most certainly not survive. What would happen then?

"Having failed to talk the mother bird out of building its nest in the middle of the dying forest, the tree realised there was only one thing to do and it began to fight off the disease, even if it was just to see the season through with the young birds. It also began using its rooted connection with the earth and its flowing connection with the sky to imagine that air was being breathed into the soil and new trees were beginning to grow.

"The little bunny woke up with a start, immediately looking around for the mother bird. But it was pitch dark and birds would be fast asleep at that time of night. So what was it that had woken the little bunny? Thinking nothing more of it, he went back to sleep, hoping to continue the strange dream and see the new forest.

"Early the next morning, the bunny woke to find himself curled up right next to his burrow. He had been so tired from staring at the night sky the night before that he had simply fallen asleep where he sat. As he stretched out, the bunny noticed that a large twig had fallen close to him during the night from the tree above. Standing up to stretch, the bunny was quite surprised to notice that the twig created a clear picture of a flying bird with a little egg.

What could the co-incidence of a dream about a tree and a fallen twig have to do with his decision to either leave the dying forest for better pickings or to stay with the hope of a miracle? The little bunny thought that if there was a message in the dream, then maybe the twig was a clue to that message. Then he thought that if he had a message and a clue, then the answer must also be around somewhere.

"However, his thoughts soon turned to the matter of breakfast. That would take a few hours to rustle up with the way things were in the forest. While he was foraging around for berries or roots, the little bunny realised that the dream wasn't real. It was just an idea that had made him feel really excited.

"The morning of the day of no turning back had gone quickly. If the day was, indeed, the point of no return, then there was, officially, no turning back. The bunny was going to stay in the forest and endure the winter once more - at least. With the strangely good feeling still very much around, the bunny began to think of ways to make the coming winter easier. His first thought was that if there were just a few more trees, there would already be less wind.

"More trees. That was it! More trees! But - how? Could trees really just start popping up all over the place, like they did in the dream? Hardly! But what other way could there be? He thought about the dream again. In it, he was the tree and he was feeling very lonely and sickly - until the bird started to build its nest. In the dream, there was renewed purpose and being sickly wasn't an option anymore. Being a safe cradle for the nest was all that mattered.

"In the dream, the bird had given the tree new hope, new purpose and with it, new happiness and a wish to be alive. Realising this, the bunny began piecing together an idea that he thought could just maybe save his forest. Year by year, shrub by shrub and tree by tree. He believed it would be the healthiest and most fertile forest ever.

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, the little bunny went over every detail in his mind, perfecting the plan until it was complete and ready to put into action. That night, sleep came quickly and easily to the bunny as he curled up in his warm burrow.

"Early the next morning, the bunny awoke and stretched as usual. It was day one of no return and the thought of breakfast brought him out into the cool freshness of the morning air. But there was something different in the morning air on that particular day - something very different from any other morning. Sniffing the air repeatedly, the little bunny satisfied himself that there was no immediate danger. The idea had hardly gone through his mind before a completely out of place sound came from the tree above.

"Hopping up to the tree for a closer look, the bunny peered through the branches. It was a bird! Just like the one in his dream, perching on a perfect nest in the branches of his tree. It was just as he remembered it in the dream.

"This was a bit much for the poor bunny to deal with. Seeing imagination become reality can be difficult for some people - even when it happens right in front of them. And our little bunny had seen it happen with his own eyes. His sleep-time dream was securely perched on the branches of his home tree. He just knew the tree was feeling happy, proud and filled with the will to live once again.

"That thought gave the bunny a completely new idea. He sped off into the dying forest and returned with every old acorn and small pebble he could find. Then he sped off again, this time returning with as much grass and twigs as he could gather. He sped off once more, returning with a few of the remaining flowers to be found in the dying forest. Finally, he sat under the occupied tree next to his burrow and went to work.

"All day long the bunny worked. The sun rose to its highest point and began to drop. Even the moon, in its half-lit state, came up for a lazy look at what the bunny was doing. But no one could make head or tail out of his work.

"Finally, as the last rays of sun touched the remaining tree tops, the bunny stood up stiffly, stretching his back and letting out an aching groan. It was too dark for anyone else to see, but in front of the bunny were eight rows of little nests, each holding what looked like a colourful little egg. Out of the twigs and grass, the bunny had made little nests that looked just like the real bird's nests. And out of the flowers he had made a colourful collection of paints, which he had used to paint the acorns and pebbles to make them look like tiny little bird eggs.

"With darkness descending quickly now, the bunny had very little time to finish his work. Gathering up all the nests, he ran as fast as he could from one dying tree to the next, climbing to the highest branches and perching each nest gently, but securely in each tree.

The next morning arrived like any other. It had been a long yesterday and a tiring last night. Despite the aches and pains, the bunny felt particularly good that morning. Again, there seemed to be something different in the dawn air.

"As he stepped out from his burrow under the home tree, the bunny yawned and stretched while he looked around, expecting to see his little hand-made nests perching in the branches of the other trees. He imagined the surprise of the trees as they awoke to find a new nest magically appearing in their branches. It was the only way he could think of to give the forest new hope and motivation to grow and flourish once more. It was what his dream had shown him.

"But today, it was the bunny's turn to be surprised. Sure enough, the nests were still perched in the high branches. But there was something more than just a little acorn egg in each nest. After clambering up a few trees to inspect, he just stood there, looking around at the trees in amazement. In each of the nests he looked in, there was a mother bird, brooding over an egg. Some were still the bunny's painted eggs but some were real baby bird eggs. Try as he might, the bunny just could not understand how this was possible.

"The answer was not complicated at all. It seems that, just as there was a little bunny that wished his forest would grow again, there were mother birds that had lost their nests and had wished they could find new ones. The little bunny's belief in his own dreams had made it possible for the dreams of others to become real as well.

"And so, from that day on, every time the bunny made a wish, he would find an acorn, paint it like an egg and then hide it somewhere in the forest and wait for the wish to come true. Very soon, the forest was bustling with life again. There were trees as far as the eye could see and, not only did the birds and other animals return to make the new forest their home, there were even a few sightings of fairies and goblins. This was the very origin of magic, of where and how it all started.

"A completely new forest had been created - better than it used to be, thanks to the courage, faith and goodness of just one little bunny. His actions became a tradition in the forest. Every year, the bunny would make his little colourful eggs and hide them at night with a wish. The rest of the forest inhabitants would go to bed and wake up excited the following morning to go looking for the eggs, hoping to find one that had a special wish in it for them.

"The forest grew even bigger and happier. Naturally, its magical power also grew. Soon, it was possible to climb a tall tree in what had become known as Bunnyland and be able to step into the branches of a tree in another forest. Some of the burrows where the bunnies lived became magical passages to other places. There seemed to be so much new life in this new forest that there was nowhere left for it to live. The power and magic of the little bunny's first wish was so strong and was working so well that the forest was having to find other places to create itself. So there became many magical places where it was possible to go for a walk in one forest and end up in a completely different forest in a completely different world.

"Bunnyland continued to expand, as did its population. There were more bunnies, more fairies, more goblins, more trees and insects and, of course, more birds than all the forests on the Blue World. The magic was everywhere and the little bunny was kept quite busy, making his special little eggs for all the new boroughs in the burrows. Sometimes, things would even get a little hectic, with a mad rush to finish enough eggs and then hiding them all in time to be discovered, leaving him exhausted and needing to recover for days before surfacing again.

“Things also began to get a little crowded in the new forest. Quite appropriately, the little bunny became the first to make a new home in one of the many new magic places. He had discovered it while venturing down one of the magical passages, which had appeared in his own burrow. It led him to a valley that was dominated by a huge range of mountains, part of it stretching up so high it was shrouded in mist.

"Other inhabitants of the magical forest also settled in other worlds. But being the one who started the whole magical adventure, the little bunny had become quite important throughout the magical lands. When some of the inhabitants heard that he had moved to another magical world, they wanted to move there too. And they did, from all over the growing network of magical worlds.

With bunny no longer residing in his native Bunnyland, it seemed only proper to change a few names. Bunny had the final say and he decided to call the entire domain of magic: Everyland.

"We're talking, here, about the very history of magic and creation, of a time when a little bunny's faith and action brought magic to a place which had all but given up hope of existing anymore.

"And so, the creatures of the forest spread out into the many magical worlds of Everyland. Without knowing it, they were making sure that, wherever anyone might be in the magical lands, there would always be a trace of the original forest magic to be found somewhere. That, I can tell you, is the reason why so many people still believe in magic. They know it's never lost. Magic is always around somewhere - you just have to know where to look and trust that it will be there.

"Over time, which, in Everyland, is really nothing more than just another period of eternity upon yet another, the original magic from the little bunny's sincere wish for a dying forest had grown into a wonderful universe of fantasy and magical joy. Everyone living in this magical energy remained forever young. Time always stood still when magic was at about. That's also why there are so many faces, frozen in surprise when magic suddenly appears unannounced. Things stand still for a while - even just for a moment.”

Taking a deep breath, the Fairy Queen broke the spell and woke the group from the fairytale about the dying forest. Although they were once more aware of being in the Fairy Queen's palatial throne room, it was as if they had just been plucked from the place where the fairytale was unfolding. Even Bubu wasn't prepared for the sudden shift. They had been there, in the story, feeling the sadness of the dying forest and the swelling magic of the new, wonderful worlds - just seconds ago, feeling every breeze and smelling every flower. The Fairy Queen most certainly possessed a magic that was truly fantastic.

Chirp was sufficiently coherent to see an opportunity, firing off his own question. "Yes - and what's with the cute fluff-ball, doing almost exactly what Bunny's doing? What's this all about, your Fairyness?" he questioned.

The Fairy Queen drifted over to Chirp and held out her hand for him to perch. As he flitted over, she smiled at him and a most curious feeling took over his senses. He landed automatically on the Fairy Queen's hand. She stroked his back as she spoke. "What would you say, Chirp, if I told you that you are the first bird ever to hatch from the very first egg ever to be laid in the original magical forest?"

Chirp hopped around on the Fairy Queen's hand to stare directly at her and replied with a slight laugh in his voice. " You mean you want me to believe that I came from the story that you've just told us?"

"But it's not a story." the Fairy Queen countered. "It's the history of the hunt in a magic world that we've all come to know as our home. Not just a story, Chirp. It's a history lesson. And you were there, right at the very beginning of it all."

Chirp held up a protesting wing. "Nah - I don't buy it. Magic shmagic - I don't remember any of that! I've always been in Everyland and Bunny's always been my friend. I don't know anything about any dying forest or magic acorn eggs."

Bunny got up from his chair in exasperation. "Wait a minute here! What are you saying? That I'm the bunny in the story - the one who started making the eggs?" He cocked his head to one side to give the Fairy Queen a very skew, inquiring stare.

"Well of course you were! How many bunnies in Everyland do you know spend their time making little wishing eggs and stashing them all over the place? Of course you were there. That's why you're here, now. I decided that it's time for everyone to know the whole story of the Easter Bunny. That's also why Bubu and I decided to make the little chocolate bunnies, so that everyone can see who's behind the very special and important tradition of Easter eggs."

Bunny sat back down, stunned by what he was hearing. For once, even Chirp was at a loss for words - without moving a muscle, he just swept his eyes back and forth between Bunny and the Fairy Queen.

Bubu giggled again at Chirp's comment. Bunny remained seated with a bewildered expression. For a while, Chirp and Bunny just exchanged glances with raised eyebrows and exasperated smiles.

“And it is." the Fairy Queen assured. “All I did was go to a place in this time, and have a look at it in another time. That's what magic is all about - it's just 'other time'. That's why fairytales always begin with..."

"That's right," the Fairy Queen praised. "That opening line also opens the door to all the magic that might be waiting to come out of the story that's being told." She wagged a teasing finger at her three guests. "Fairytales aren't just silly stories you know."

"I'll say..." Bunny agreed. He stood up and paced slowly about the tiled crystal floor of the throne room. With the introduction of this new information, a lot of things suddenly began to make sense for him. He turned to the Fairy Queen, a little hesitant to ask his question. "If I was the bunny in the tale, where did the magic come from to bring the nesting birds and save the dying forest if Everyland didn't exist yet?"

"Good question." the Fairy Queen pointed out. "The answer to that is that magic has always been around an I'm quite sure that we would never have known that magic was all around if you hadn't wished it into existence." Stepping down from her throne, the Fairy Queen placed Chirp on the left armrest of her throne and glided over to where Bunny was standing. What she did at that moment, took everyone by surprise. Kneeling down in front of Bunny, she took his hand and kissed it. "Thank you," she said, "for wishing good magic into your world and making it a wonderful and eternal home for all of us. It was your faith that created it all. Thank you."

Then she rose again, looking at the bewildered Bunny. "I've arranged a special banquet in your honour, Bunny, as the founding member of Everyland and as the symbol of magic and goodness everywhere."

The Fairy Queen floated back to her throne, where Chirp was perched. "And you, my dear Chirp, no longer have to be in such a hurry to find answers. From this day forward, it is my own wish that the many answers you seek will find you in good time."

Despite the effects of the unusual feeling that had overcome him, Chirp was not one to let an opportunity go by. "Then will somebody please explain to me - in good time - what happened to Bunny's eggs?"

With a casual wave of her hand, the wall of the Fairy Queen's throne room faded away, revealing a fantastically large storage area, packed to capacity with familiar-looking Easter eggs and the now-famous chocolate bunnies.

“Except,” the Fairy Queen added, “you won't be making the delivery this year. Sit back and enjoy the view as you get the day off, with the compliments of Fairyland and every single one of its adoring fairies. Your precious cargo is in the best hands”

Bunny sat back down in his chair, gesturing towards the store of eggs and speaking almost absentmindedly. “Will you look at that… “ Then, turning to Bubu, he was almost tearful. “Can you believe this??”

Chirp twiddled his beak with a wingtip before speaking. "Yea, I got a question. If you've been making all the chocolate bunnies here in your palace, then how is it that we should find one lying on the ground in Everyland?"

The Fairy Queen laughed aloud. The fairies in attendance were startled, turning slowly to stare at their queen with surprised expressions. No one had ever heard the Fairy Queen laugh so loudly. She was normally given to polite giggles and amused chuckles. There had to be something new in the air. "Oh, Chirp - you really don't miss a thing, do you?" She chuckled some more before composing herself enough to explain. "Once I realised that too many fairies were bringing chocolate samples from Bunny's store room, I cast and 'all-ends-well' spell on the mistake. That little chocolate rabbit was put there deliberately, as a clue for you to find and to lead you here, all in time perfect time. And here you are," she gestured to everyone. “- perfect timing.”

More laughter erupted from the Fairy Queen's throne room as the penny eventually dropped for Chirp. The attending fairies sneaked embarrassed looks at each other, only partly concealing their amusement.

With the party to beat all parties in full swing around him, Chirp leaned back against the plush cushions, reaching out for his tall, three-coloured drink on the side table next to him. What a day! Hey, forget about jetlag from air travel - this was more like fantasy-lag from time travel. Despite a strangely good feeling all over, there was something that Chirp still didn't quite get. All he knew was that, for the moment at least, it was more important to just sit there and enjoy the good feeling, than to be doing anything else.

One of the stocky yellow dragons ambled up to Chirp. It was drinking a bubbling, orange and yellow brew from what looked like a bottomless goblet. "Hey, Frankenfeathers - how's the scary-fairy business going these days?" He laughed raucously at his own joke, crashing his cup against Chirp's glass in a wild salute, almost breaking it. "Cheers!" he toasted loudly.

Some of the blue liquid in Chirp's glass spilt out and landed on the floor. He watched it fall at a slower speed than it had a right to. As it reached the floor, a shapeless blue patch slowly formed as it spread out in very unsteady and sporadic movements. "Nothing fluid about that." he thought, glancing back up to the drink for just a second. When he looked down again, the blue stain had come alive, turning into ten or so little blue shadowy shapes, detaching themselves from the floor and running off between every ones' feet and out of sight. The spill had cleaned itself up before his eyes.

"Gotta blow." the dragon said, right into Chirp's face as it waddled off on unsteady legs. "And welcome to Everyland." he added. Chirp didn't reply. He wasn't going to inhale till that dragon's breath had moved on a bit. The dragon staggered through the crowd, waving his cup wildly in the air, spilling some of its fiery, bottomless contents on the floor and over the other guests. That mess also cleaned itself up, except that this time, it disappeared in flames.

Bunny scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "Hmm, yes. Looks like the early bird got the bookworm here. Just as well, because the cat seems to have gotten his tongue." Then, leaning over slightly, to look closely at his feathered friend, who was in an unusually calm mood, he asked: "So what are you going to call it?"

Chirp paused to have a sip of his tri-colour drink. He gently put the glass back down on the table so as not to spill anymore of the blue stuff as he announced: "'More Haste. Less Speed'."

As Bunny and Bubu laughed, Hooter pushed his way through the crowd and joined the group. No less than twelve little personal hovering fairies surrounded him - each equipped with magic writing quills from wild Africa and piercingly black printing ink, summoned from the depths of the darkest nights imaginable. As Hooter ushered up to the table, Chirp did the introductions. "Bunny and Bubu, I'd like you to meet my agent and publisher, Hooter” and gesturing to the hovering fairies, “ and his own personal Air Wing. Hooter's waited a long time to meet you, Bunny. He didn't want to believe me when I told him we were friends."

Hooter shuffled up to Bunny, taking his paw in both wings. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Bunny. Your young friend, here, made me realise that as long as I believed I'd never meet you, I wouldn't. So here we are, thanks to your good friend's hidden wisdom."

Bunny scooped her up in his arms and carried her through the crowd. A few creatures turned when Bubu shrieked with delight. Their complete happiness blended right in with the rest of Everyland.

I really hope you have enjoyed my magical tale and that you now have a fresh perspective of magic and the power of faith. It was an absolute pleasure to write and, I daresay, the characters have become personal friends of mine in the process. I can't say for sure, but I think - now that their worlds have come together in such a magical way - they might just find themselves deeply immersed in another magical mystery in the future.

I'll be taking a break from the stories for a while to concentrate on audio productions, which will include more tracks for the Rose Tinted album and an audible version of Vibrational Shift. However, I do have a few short stories on hand which will will be posted randomly from time to time.