Without warning, or even a sly grin, the front cab of the old Toyota was instantly engulfed in a horrendous, almost toxic smell. Before the blame game started, Matt simultaneously hit the vehicle's well-worn brakes and the driver's side door handle. Seconds later, standing obviously downwind from a rotting dead animal, we both stood in the darkness watching as Matt's headlamp illuminated a narrow track through the night. While doing his lighthouse impression, a stocky black shape was spotted head down, bum up a short distance away. Moments later, the hardy, rough looking boar turned from it's evening meal of decaying donkey towards the light. Although, not impressed by being disturbed between courses, it continued to feed. If it could tolerate the putrid smell we were only a minor annoyance.…
