We leave the bustling metropolitan that is St. Blasien and start with a climb through the forest. Soon we walk past a falling structure, appearing on the map as a hütte - a hut. In these parts of the world, the huts are not the ones we know and love from the Alps, but rather basic shelters for emergencies.
Arriving at the top we find a black watchtower, looming above us in the grey morning. It's busy with a group of German teenagers who spent the night camping inside, their sleeping bags neatly arranged in rows.
They say you can see the Alps from here, but it's too cloudy to see much of anything.
From here, very much like yesterday, we go from forest to open meadows with bouts of summer blooms and then, in the last hour or so, we cross a small road and the Hohwehraschlucht. We are immediately in the world of water, and while the trail so far has been lovely, just lovely, I wish it would have been like this all the time.
The trail ends abruptly at the Todtmoos main street. There's bikers and hikers and strong smell of roasting pork from the butcher's. Our hotel is right at the centre of this surprisingly sprawling village, and we get a lovely big room under the roof with lots of space to lay out our damp clothes. The village has one main street with tourists shops, and a caravan park just down the road and a lovely bakery with the best cakes we've had so far. I know it sounds as if all we do is eat cake, but honest to god, we also do some walking!
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