In spite of the forecast this was a good day's walk through sometimes spruce woods and sometimes beech. We didn't get lost and the surface of the path was good. There was twice a bit of a palaver when horses came by as although Angelo couldn't care, less the horses made a lot of fuss and the riders eventually had to dismount and lead them past.
Just when we thinking that lunch would be a good idea we stumbled across a hunting hut which looked like something out of Hansel and Gretel. It was just a wooden shelter with benches and a table but beat trying to find a log or something to sit on as the ground really wasn't an option for picnics. Partly because I might not have managed to get up again but also because of the wet. Angelo surprised us here though when he began to eat the hut and had bitten chunks out of it before we stopped him. This is very much hunting territory and occasionally there would be a tower about 8 foot high on which I suppose people sat to look for whatever they were shooting. We also passed a couple of fenced-in areas which seemed to serve no purpose. I trust they weren't for beating the game in so that they would be easier to shoot.
We had a lovely welcome on arrival at the Ponyhof and handed Angelo over as healthy and fit as when he left. It was sad to say goodbye to him as he and the walk had been the focus of our lives for ten days in which we had lived in a completely different time-zone. The only purpose in life had been to walk to the next place and ensure Angelo was OK: no newspapers or television, nothing but fields and forest, and small, pretty villages and towns. And food and beer.
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