It started off at the age of fourteen. At first my right leg began to twitch whenever I got over excited. Then, a few months later, my right hand started to twitch, so my mother took me to the doctor.

Dr. James said I had an overactive mind and suggested I take up a calming occupation; an occupation which would take me out into fresh air and the countryside.

For my birthday, my mother bought me a pair of binoculars and, as part of my gift, payed for my membership at a local bird watching club that met every Saturday, apart from Christmas and Easter.

Throughout that year, the group and I travelled to well known bird watching sites, but after a while, I got bored with spending hours in hides accompanied by old, farting fogies.

Then, on a solo bird watching walk one late summer's evening, I discovered the Shag; a discovery that even now still haunts me.

Standing on top of a high dune, I looked down onto the deserted beach admiring the setting sun’s orange orb reflecting on the sea's surface.

All of a sudden, through my binoculars I saw, almost concealed between two large black rocks, an amazing sight; a sight that had me trembling with extreme excitement.

Suddenly, both my arm and leg began to twitch, and to ensure steadiness, I lay down on my stomach, pressing elbows into long grass to view this scene without further hindrance.

Unfortunately, after a few minutes, both arm and leg went into terrible spasms, causing the binoculars to make painful contact with my right eyeball.

'Ouch!' I cried out which must have alerted the Shag, and as I scrambled to my feet, the binoculars fell from my grasp, to hurtle into downwards into a thicket.

Then I heard a roar. Appalled, I watched the male Shag racing up the dune, leaving his female flapping about in agitated circles.

About to flee, my foot caught in a dewberry bramble and thus trapped, the Shag managed to overpower my crab-like stance, taking full advantage of my vulnerability.

Fortunately, no sooner than he'd come, he left, running back to join his squawking mate, leaving me shaken to the core, but able to stumble home, unaided.

As I crept up the stairs, Mother met me at the top, arms crossed over ample, heaving bosoms. ‘What happened?’ she asked without any concern in her tone.

‘A Shag attacked me,’ I mumbled through several loose molars.