Help, I don't know how to survive

But what if something awful happened and there was a total breakdown in society - or worse, a long-term strike by Tesco staff?

Most of us hone our survival skills on being adept with a remote control, being able to read and understand the instructions on a microwave meal, and being able to work out the central heating controls.

It's the closest we come to pitting our wits against the elements; opening a can of Chumalot for pooch is the next best thing to the prehistoric battle of man against beast.

So what brought this on, you ask? Well, there I was dressing this pheasant that someone gave me in the village pub. And why do they call it 'dressing' when we are really undressing the wretched creatures?

I could not embarrass myself by saying it was 30 years since I had fiddled with a pheasant, so I took it home and went on the Internet.

After I had stripped it of its finery in a blizzard of feathers, leaving it shivering and covered in goose (pheasant) pimples, I had to begin the surgical operation.

After taking a deep breath and apologizing for the intimacies I was about to perform on its rear end, I began to remove its insides while my vegetarian wife watched in disgusted yet mesmerized curiosity.

You see, these things normally come shrink-wrapped and with the entrails removed. All you have to do is cut off the packaging and pop it in the oven at Gas Mark 4.

So I got to thinking about how we would manage if none of our 21st century gadgets were available. And I think we'd just go cold, hungry, get sick and die.

I would have had to catch the pheasant in the first place. No Sainsburys, just me and the wild.

Who could make a bow and arrow and shoot it hard and accurate enough to bring down the quarry? And then how would you cook the blessed thing? No microwave or infra-red grill. Oh, get some fire lighters, strike a match and barbecue it.

Sorry, no matches or disposable Bic lighters.

Fire, that's the secret of survival. But how do you make fire? Rub two boy scouts together. I was never a boy scout and I was drummed out of the girl guides for not having the right equipment. But when I was a lad, they had badges for fire-making and woodmanship. Do they still do that or do they have badges for Play Station craft or Internet surfing?

So, killing and cooking a creature is off the menu today. But how do we decide which plants are edible or poisonous? Who discovered that if you roast and grind a coffee bean and stir it in boiling water, you have a delicious beverage? Who was the first person to cook meat and why? And did he cook it enough to avoid salmonella?

If you are struggling to survive with a mortgage, imagine having to build your own shelter (if all the caves are rented out). If you can't flash your plastic at Next or Burton's, or buy a bolt of material on York market, how do you make warm clothing?

And as there are no surgeries and prescriptions of nice, shiny tablets, how do you know which herbs will get you over that pneumonia you caught in your leaky lean-to?

You see, we've lost it. We take too much for granted. That's why we have a morbid fascination with castaway movies, watching some dirty, bearded, sweaty (no showers, deodorants or shavers) half-crazy unfortunate rubbing his hands bloody while trying to create a spark. There is still a trace of race memory in us that makes us wonder if we could do it. And I reckon we couldn't, not without a few episodes of research on the survival channel.

I once spent a week in a central American jungle with the army, making traps from sharpened sticks and eating curried boa-constrictor. Those lads would get by, but the rest of us would struggle.

Anyway, I'm thumbing through this holiday brochure looking for a get-away-from-it-all break on a secluded island paradise. Hope it's all-inclusive and they've got air-conditioning.

Updated: 10:07 Tuesday, February 24, 2004