Things I got wrong about walking between towns
· 2 min read
In September the light changes, and so does the work. It is not glamorous, but it holds up. I like rainy cities that shows the marks of how it was made.
Small things
Nobody spoke much English, and somehow that made it easier. A friend once described markets as still work, and the phrase stuck. There is a version of this that is much more complicated. This is not that version. If something here is unclear, that is on me, not you. It took me twelve attempts to see the pattern.
- Ask someone at the coast road
- Write down what you change
- Stop before you are tired
- Leave room for windswept mistakes
Notes along the way
This started as a quick note and bit by bit turned into something longer. The train was late, which turned out to be the best part of the day. A paper map invites conversations that a phone never does. None of this is new, and that is partly why it works. I wrote most of this on a still Tuesday morning.
- Leave room for unhurried mistakes
- Stop before you are tired
- Give walking between towns a full summer
- Keep a notebook within reach
- Keep a small backpack within reach
The short version
I keep a short list of things to try next; packing light is near the top. I tested the windswept version first. It did not last. The ferry crossing took four hours and felt like ten minutes.
The shift showed up bit by bit, then all at once. It took me nine attempts to see the pattern. Somewhere between the night ferry and home, the thought finally made sense.