The one which nearly got away.

Silent ancient woodland. Next to the ruins of a Castela. Distant dog barks, cockerel and jet plane. As I stand still bird calls become apparent. Sweet chestnut trees are also endemic up here: they must grow slowly too as lichen has spread densely populating the bark in variegated shades of green and Moss lingers by their bases. Over one hill of 500 metres I've another valley to come down to.

The first instance of another hazard on this meander: tics. Huge too. Got to it just before it hooked in. On second thoughts I noticed small wings on these tiny beasts, and I'm sure tics don't have wings being essentially an arachnid with eight legs! A quick search on Wikipedia tells me they're Deer Keds or deer fly which means I'm less afraid.

Both hills done in around four hours! Nearly noon. Bit peckish: grab some juniper berries and hang on a bit longer. I hear voices ahead!