Shirley Tart: Night under canvas was the mane attraction

But it's not just food for thought because last week, this actually happened when, in the middle of Longleat Safari Park, a car burst into flames. The mum and her kids had to make a potentially fatal decision.

It's enough to send shivers down your spine.

In the absence of a park ranger, I think I'd opt for the pack of lions and just hope they'd recently eaten.

However, this story takes me back to Africa some years ago when I was on an elephant hunt.

Fires? Lions? Elephants? Yes, I faced all of those. Bear with me, you'll catch up.

I'd done some writing on the plight of elephants in South Africa. It'd been seen by a man who ran a travel agency in Kenya. He sent me an invitation: come and see how we protect elephants in Kenya, he said.

Everything had been organised and I was allowed to take a friend. It was an amazing trip and we embraced an incredible fortnight's programme of wildlife watching.

But at the heart of this story is a night I spent in a remote camp in Tsavo East.

My new travel agent pal established that we'd had some significant experience of being in the bush, so suggested something a bit different.

This adventure included going under canvas with four other people and the guy running the camp. There would be no barrier between us and the wildlife, except for boys keeping a row of fires going.

This was meant to be a deterrent. But I can't say it was completely effective, given that on our first night there were soon sounds of prowling and silhouettes of huge heads and manes on the canvas.

They were outside. The lions were right outside our tent.

I froze. I had to prompt myself to continue to breathe, but not scream (this is bush etiquette). And even if you do scream, would anybody hear?

But this was life in the wild and suddenly the questions about experience didn't mean very much at all.

The lions eventually dispersed. But what a tale to tell.

But now you can see why I'm not very interested in going camping anymore.