Day 3, January 13
I realized that my packing was not optimal. Slowly it turns out, what I have forgotten and what is too much. From Bristol I drove northwest to Wales. About small roads to the place I had discovered the last time, right at the foot of the Breaken Beacons. It is a small valley with stream, old trees and meadows, which opens to the mountains. When I got there, I was completely alone. Later came a photographer who took pictures of something in the stream. I looked at it for a while, then I went there. I have never started a conversation while standing in the icy water. We talked for a long time about photography, traveling, God and the world. We would have chatted for another two hours if Sean, the environmental policy adviser, did not want to go home to his pregnant girlfriend. I think when I was a kid, I last used rubber boots for a long time – I forgot what cold feet you can get if you do not wear the right socks in rubber boots. I’ve sorted a few things and then I seared lamb chops, or better said sheep chops. It was delicious anyway. I went to bed early, the only sound was the rustle of the streamlet.