Bloody hell where did my baby go (in Germany) - I'm still shaking

This morning, we headed to the Black Forest in Germany. We went to a place called Belching mountain.


We went up the mountain in the Belching cable car


and had our lunch in the Belching Restaurant.


Okay, I'm done with that now.

After lunch, we went for a walk around the summit, following the Belching Trail (last one, I promise).

Marie was happily walking in front of me.


I turned around to say something to Babes and I heard this small "whoosh" sound. When I turned back, Marie had gone. I ran to see if she'd gone further up the path, but she wasn't there. Then I saw her red T-shirt.

She'd fallen and slidden down underneath the fence next to the path, on the downhill side. She'd already gone down about four meters. Luckily she's a clever one, so when I told her to lie still she did. I rather screamed for Babes, who went straight over the fence and picked her up.

I'm still shaking as I write this. That moment was such a huge parenting fail.

• The flimsy wire at the side of the path made me feel she'd be alright walking on her own.
  
• I didn't keep my eyes on her the whole time.
  
• The most embarrassing part? I'd been taking pictures, and as soon as Babes grabbed her, all I wanted to do was to take a picture of them, still on their slanted meadow. (He didn't let me.)
  

(How anal do you have to be to bullet-point a list of your own parental failings?)

From then on, she was obviously held by the hand or carried the rest of the walk. In a way, it was lucky this fall happened early on in the walk, because just a few metres further, the drop was far steeper and deeper. I'm hoping I wouldn't have let her walk on her own there, but I'll never know. I have learned that hills are bloody dangerous for kids, though. (Stating the glaringly obvious here, but I was raised in a very very very flat country.)

I'll now add a couple of views from the rest of the walk, after which I'm sitting down with a glass of wine to steady my nerves.





Extra:
Cows in this part of the world actually wear cow bells. They're not just for tourist shops.