First time poster here, so not expecting to be taken seriously... And doubly naughty for reopening a long-dead thread. I apologise, but this seemed the most appropriate way to proceed.
The following is as best as I can remember, the events of one night in about 1996. It could have been as early as '92, as I lived in Plymouth for four years while at university, but for some reason I feel it was later, as I think the group I was with were in our last throes of close friendship before we all went our separate ways into the big wide world.
None of us were particularly heavy drinkers, nor into recreational substances, but we all had a fascination with the supernatural and folklore. There were about eight or nine of us, and we'd often pack into two cars on a Friday night, and drive up to Dartmoor (Princeton, The Devil's Elbow pub) and drive around the various local weird spots- Jay's Grave, the Hairy Hands road, Bren Tor, etc, just chatting and seeing what we could see.
One night, we'd been to Jay's Grave (where a small plastic gnome had joined the flowers, much to our delight), and had driven up a dirt track between a wood and a field for some reason. I guess we needed to answer the call of nature- because my last "normal" memory of it is of the two cars parked and us all outside.
I remember looking up over the hedgerow and seeing... Well, I can only describe it as a giant. A man, about ten- fifteen feet tall at least, his face framed with hair, looking down at me. I remember us all getting in the cars and driving at speed down the track towards the road, and watching out the window as this giant paced us behind the hedge. I remember seeing his body when the hedge broke- and yes, seeing the typical bare chest, furry legs and cloven hooves of what I recognised as "Pan".
We reached the end of the track, turned into the road and sped off.
And never spoke of it again.
I don't remember ever even thinking of it again all the time we were finishing our studies... Or in the years since. And then, a few years ago, I bought one of the Fortean Times 'It Happened to Me' books, and devoured it before my kids could nick it. A very similar story was featured- and it all came back in what I can only describe as an overload of sudden memory, which made me immediately sit down hard and remain shell shocked for the day.
A while later (months) I plucked up courage to contact some of the people who I knew had been with me that night, on Facebook and ask them if they remembered anything at all odd happening. I made sure to keep it lighthearted and certainly didn't give any details of what I "remembered". Of five people, one (female) ignored my question and has never replied since, continuing a friendship but studiously avoiding any mention of our university years, and the four guys deleted me within a few days- after over twenty years of friendship.
So. Has anyone else seen/experienced anything similar in that part of the world, and has anyone ever had a shared experience that has led to forgetting and then sudden memory recall which leads to people acting so out of character.
Interestingly, despite loving Devon and Cornwall passionately when I lived there, and travelling all over the UK since, I've never been back to the Westcountry since I left uni in 1996. And I have no idea why.
