The Greenstone Track

Greenstone Carpark to Greenstone Hut

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We head on across the flats, and into open forest.

The terrain from here in begins to get somewhat rougher.

Not a lot, but enough, when your legs are tiring slightly, to make the extra effort of lifting them a few centimetres higher a bit of a chore

and while we're more or less back on the superhighway, it continues to be rocky underfoot.

I still haven't figured why it is that some areas of beech forest are lush and others seem parched and ready to suck the moisture from you at the slightest touch.

It's getting on a little, and on an impulse, Miranda decides to head on at speed while I continue at a pace more befitting the elderly and (somewhat less by this time) stout.

As previously, I'd like to be a fly on the wall when this stuff gets moved around. It's massive.

More rocks

and suddenly, we've reached the junction.

This time, at the bridge across the Greenstone, I can see a trout, quite a nice little fellow too.

Up at the hut, they're just about full up, and Miranda has done some negotiating to snare us a couple of side by side bunks.