Lowestoft to the Lowest.

Reading a text message before departure, “What a lovely day for you to start such an adventure.” Indeed.

The first five days along the Angles Way the sun shone and all was well. The roads (more than expected), were pounding the soles of my feet, and new footwear (not worn in, stupid I know), provided a slight degree of discomfort.

My foot massage skills, well practised on the Coast to Coast and Pennine Way, were proving effective and the blisters kept in check with the magic of Compeed.

Then the rains came! For ten days or more I was walking with soggy feet and living in a soggy tent, with laundry and drying opportunities rather elusive.

Heading off the established long distance path towards Holme Fen, I was trudging along on the heavy clay such ancient tracks avoided and my supply of clean, dry socks was disappearing like a well known Yorkshire football club from the Premiership.

A bright, sunny Sunday afternoon saw me to Holme for a couple of jars before the short stroll to the Fen. These factors combined left me feeling less than 100% as I crawled into my sleeping bag for the night. I explored the area the following morning for a photo opportunity, then headed South for my next destination.