Day 4 to 6 will be published directly on the website. I'm giving your inbox a break.

Day 3 already. Why was it already day 3? I was afraid time slipped away while I barely settled in my cabin in [REDACTED].

I went for a walk without prepping it. But What if's and other should's overcame me and in the last moment I decided to take some water and the tiny security blanket. Just in case. Of course, I had the phone. And I packed the Garmin GPS, hoping to not use the phone at all.

My plan, or better described as the outline of an idea, was to just go up the road. My goal: not to check my speed. Just barely a hike, a stroll along the woods. Speed of no importance.

Then nearly reaching my turnaround point I got bored. No, I'm lying to my self. I decided that just up the road was too easy. It was not an accomplishment. For the activity to count, it needed to be longer.

Who was keeping the score?

I looked for ways to lengthen it, make the simple stroll more challenging, more note worthy. Could I just cut through the forest? I didn't dare, too used to walking on marked trails.

I pinched, zoomed in and out and found a path. It even came with an x, an unknown: The path ended suddenly but then began again. What separated the two trail ends? The map gave no clue. It was a perfect excuse to explore and complete the map.

I tell you what it was: thick forest and swampy wet ground covered in blueberries, home to mosquitoes.

My shoes were wet. By the time I noticed it, it was too late to turn back. Wet was wet.

The further I went the worse it got. When the trail ended I was facing trees, a thick wood, and sort of trail marks of heavy machinery. But only faintly visible on the ground. The lack of trees hinted at prior but now long forgotten industrialisation.

I walked a bit, checked direction, waved mosquitoes away from my face. Rinsed and repeated.

Feet and legs wet, I tried hard not to fall. I stumbled through the forest. Tracks were covered, trees have been falling on them and I'm silently not yet cursed myself, and hoped that the shoes will dry quickly.

My phone said that the path was straight ahead just metres from me. But the trees were too close to each other. Small trees with branches would have hit my head. I decided not to crawl like a mouse, I wasn't yet that desperate. I veered left. I disagreed with the map and my phone, not heading anymore straight for this illusive trail, my hope out of the thick forest. I pressed forward, thankful that I picked up a stick several kilometres earlier.

And there suddenly on my right a trail. A wondrous, neat trail through the trees. Narrow, only wide enough for a foot, but tall enough for me to pass through without ducking.

Finally the grey sky opened up and I exited the wilderness and stepped foot on an industrial scale peat harvesting site.

Am I allowed to be here?

On my way home I passed signs forbidding to make fires, long incomprehensible words in a foreign tongue on yellow signs with red border. Everyone would have recognised them as warning and forbidding signs.

I ducked below a gate.