I'm in the bush in South Africa. I'm really roughing it, yah - I've only brought along two maids, a driver, a hairdresser, a masseur, a chef and a boy to fan me down if I get too hot.
I'm going to practice my archery while I'm here, and I see a target ahead. It's that horrid little ginger scottish man: I'm so glad this is a dream, or I'd have to pretend he was attractive. He stands facing me, grinning, as I take aim. Oh, unlucky! The bullseye was so small I could hardly see it and I've missed. No loss though, yah?
I take a small sip of water, being careful not to spill any, and think about what to have for supper - just a simple meal, yah, some pancetta with shaved parmesan on a bed of celeriac mash.
Luckily, I'm the only girl for miles around, so I don't have to worry about all those jealous women who discriminate against me just because I'm so pretty. I can't help it if I'm a blonde princess: they should just learn to accept that I'm above them, and treat me as I deserve.
As we drive, I tell the servants some stories about myself. They laugh at all my jokes and it seems to bring some joy into their sad little lives to listen to me. Of course, they could never be like me, but obviously I inspire them. One of the maids even asks how would I like to changes places with her! What a funny idea, yah, I'm far too good for that.
We arrive at our destination, and as the servants construct my shelter for the night (just a simple silk tent with a bed of pure goosedown), I take my overnight cases out of the jeep to make more room for the servants to sleep. As I snuggle down for the night, I can hear the gentle sound of a fire burning outside, and I think I can hear some faint laughter, but it's getting further away. It's getting lovely and warm in here now too...