As I go deeper it grows darker, denser and wetter. I'm suddenly faced with fallen trees to clamber over and muddy pools to negotiate. My pleasant forest walk has turned into a bit of an ordeal (as is becoming commonplace with my walks). I'm forced to take large detours around boggy areas to avoid getting stuck and lose my way a couple of times. I cross bog after bog sometimes balancing on slippery fallen trees. I'm covered in mud and have no idea where I am in the forest or how far it is to the bay. I can hear the roaring sea but it doesn't seem to be getting any louder the further I walk. I contemplate going back but I'd only have to cross the bogs again. There isn't a soul insight. If it wasn't for the god-sent orange arrows on the trees I'd still be in the forest.
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