Perkūnas

Lithuania

After hiding in a windmill from a thunderstorm that had lasted over an hour, I decided to make a break for it. Preying to Perkūnas to spare me from a lightning strike, I ran through the fields to a nearby village, pelted the whole way by hail stones the size of pebbles. >>>>Finding the only restaurant, it turned out the whole village was there already, sheltering from the forecast rain. >>>>A hundred faces watched me enter, soaked to the bone like some kind of idiot apparition. I ate my potato casserole in damp silence, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

Lithuania

The sun over Gavle turned the lake a burnished gold, smelted through a thousand channels into castle windows and boat sails.

To the north the gathering storm, furious at our daylight incursion, pushed towards us through prostrated skies. Trebuchet winds rocked the balloon past the landing site and over onto needly pine woodland poking through the gathering gloom.

We aimed at a patch of ground only to realise we would hit a wall of besieging trees. Horrified, we careened up again spinning the basket off the treetops. On our last gasp of propane, we spied a disused train track cut through the forest. Collapsing the canvas we dropped from the sky, catapulted to the ground like some bloated carcass.

Next journey...

Belgium

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