Waking to the sound of a fog horn i knew the mist hadn't lifted and while making breakfast expected another day hiking into the unknown. What i hadn't expected was to come across a military firing range. Thankfully i hadn't camped on it as I'd done previously. From out if the mist which had thinned out as I'd hiked along the beach i could see the familiar red flag flying and could hear the ringing of gunshots.
Navigated trails between the dunes i avoided being shot and made my around the range. On the far side the beach was made up mostly of brick rubble, a first on the trek. It was still very misty but gradually rubble cleared to reveal a sandy beach. I then spotted iron men standing, dotted randomly, some buried at different heights, motionless, expressionless, statues in the mist. It was obviously art and in someway a little disturbing. This went on for several miles and lead me into and through Liverpool. I didn't stop, not because i was worried, not at all, lee was a scouser and i could understand him fine, i didn't feel intimidated either i merely wanted to find a quiet spot to stop the night and clock up as many miles as possible. Finding a small wood in a park beyond the docks i decided to call it a day and rest up for the night.
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