Suddenly the last of a very small band of well-wishers has gone, and I am alone. Alone in a box with nothing but the clothes on my back and enough water to last me 24 hours. And a little mat to sleep on. And a sleeping bag and a pillow. And an extra fleece in case it gets parky. And a mobile phone, for emergencies. And a couple of magazines and some books. And a radio. And some cashews.
The Guardian’s Tim Dowling almost recreates David Blaine’s latest stunt.