The clear, warm night sky turned quickly into torrential rain, which stopped for about 15mins to let us hastily escape our bivys, before starting again just as we were packing our stuff away. Then it didn’t stop.
Our moral was shattered; we were soaked, our gear was soaked, it was cold, we marched through Schmallenberg and everything was closed, the cycle paths were dirt tracks and the roads were busy. Nothing was good about the day. With nothing else to do, we made up our quota of kilometers and found a camp site in waist high soaking wet grass. Arjun had acquired a few blisters and a sore ankle, and we were unable to cook, so ate the last of our dry oats and a tin of chopped tomatoes.
That evening, sat in the rain under a slightly too small tarp on top of wet bivys, we took a stand. We unpacked all our cosy clothes, a set of thermals and our arctic jackets, then sat, snug, cursing the sky.