After a long morning's walk I'm in Bitz....(groan).
And beyond. Almost crossed the Schwabian Alps (an 'alp' isn't a mountain as such but a high summer pasture - I passed a flock of shepherded sheep this afternoon). Next Moosewald Bergzell - more high ground, and then into the high lands of the Black Forest.
I'm starting to knock out the miles now - kept walking till late evening yesterday through small villages and dark hilly forests. At one point I came across a 'field' dotted with flickering red lights; a graveyard and tens of candles in red jars on the graves.
Here's a comparison that might prove useful if you're setting off on your own sleep-out trip - with the same insulating mat and sleeping gear a hammock is colder than sleeping on the ground, but - like last night - if it's wet and sloping ground then a hammock is way more comfortable.
Buzzards everywhere, because there are voles everywhere - the latter have worn runs into the matted winter grass so it's like lace.
A thick fog all day until on an upland pasture the sun burnt through and it was warm and sparkling. I am honing my sense of west and find shortcuts through fields or down hills or follow paths ever towards Paris through dark forests. It's like being an animal on migration - a sense of something pulling me on. Which is good for the soul if not for the feet. Onwards. Or soon as it looks like rain and there's time for another coffee, surely.
Then onwards.
No comments:
Post a Comment