We thought some of you might be wondering what exactly it is we’re doing out here…

We thought some of you might be wondering what exactly it is we’re doing out here…
Kristen
From Hahlić dom, you can see the ocean. The sun sets over it in a pink and purple blush. I can see all the way down the dark green coast of Croatia, curled up like a spindly dragon. We’ll be walking along it’s spine for the next month and a half. It sounds like a long time, but what strikes me from here is just how small these countries are.
Callum
It’s been a long day. Kind of a hard day really, the sort of day that makes me question why we do this, why we hike.
Kristen
This morning we wake slowly in the warm, wooden lodge. Yesterday, I had so much energy. I ran up the last few metres to the summit of Snežnik. I felt I could’ve happily kept walking past the lodge, even though it was certainly the longest day I’ve ever hiked. But today, I feel less enthused. Plus the forecast is for thunderstorms again. I push my face back into the soft flannelette pillow. It takes a while to get out of bed.
Kristen
Today’s hike was a navigational schmozzle. Only 21 km, but very long. However, I write this from a warm, comfortable youth hostel called Ars Viva in Podcerkev, so I can’t say it ended too badly.
Callum
We wake up and it’s still raining. Despite this, the sun is shining, and our four season tent is getting pretty warm. It’s a sticky, humid heat that makes me sweat even though I’m still kind of cold. All in all, a morning to sit tight and be miserable.
As the rain eases off, I crawl outside to go grab the food from where we tied it up over night. A quick Google reveals that the bag is supposed to be about seven meters off the ground to protect from bears. I’d say ours was about one-and-a-half.
We’re still working on our bear protocol.
Kristen
Pale light gleams off the white stone church, waking us at 4:30 am. Stars are softly penciled in around the sky. This may be our second day of walking, but it’s our first true morning on the track and we each lie still a while.
Callum
We’ve just crawled into our sleeping bags under the awning of a 15th century church. I have some doubts about the legality of this arrangement, but it’s been a long day, my legs are sore, and Slovenia has some fairly restrictive wild camping laws.
Still, I’m not particularly enjoying the compulsion to rehearse my backstory every time I hear a footstep. Or a voice.
Considering how stressed this is making me, I suspect I’m not cut out for a life of crime.