The day started wet and finished wet. It was also wet in the middle.
A large pile of flowers had been left in memory of Lilia Valutyte , the little girl murdered in the town. This has hit people hard here and most local businesses have collection jars in her memory.
Then it was a walk back down the other side of the Haven into the lonely and desolate marshes that extend round the Wash.
I never met a soul that day once I had left Boston and made my way through the drizzle accompanied by Egrets and Kestrels.
There is no traffic noise there just the the steady sound of falling rain and your feet as they splash through the puddles.
You resort to talking to the local cattle. I guess the sign things are going badly wrong is if they start talking back.
Finding a wild campsite isn’t an issue as there are no people to bother you. At least the rain stopped when I was putting my tent up which makes life easier.