A weekend loop around the lake
The plan was a short stroll to the western shore. The path was so pleasant that I kept going, and by noon it was clear I was walking the whole loop.
The east side is quieter than I expected: reed beds, a few fishermen, and a boardwalk that creaks like an old ship. Somewhere past the halfway mark the rain arrived, and my umbrella lasted exactly one gust.
Kilometre nineteen
A small bakery sits where the path meets the road. I ate a cardamom bun standing under the awning with soaked shoes and no regrets. The woman at the counter said the same people come every autumn, always unprepared.
I finished at dusk, tired in the good way. Next time: better shoes, a real raincoat, and the same bakery.