On getting lost and packing light
I packed too much, as usual, and wore the same jacket every day. I keep coming back to ferries, mainly because it rewards time.
The middle part
The details matter less than the routine of paying attention. Good old maps is mainly a series of modest, unglamorous decisions. Looking back, the remote approach was the right call. There is no single right way to approach keeping a journal, but some ways are kinder than others. I am still not sure I have it right, but it is closer.
It is not glamorous, but it holds up. Good guesthouses is mainly a series of modest, unglamorous decisions. Nothing here requires a rain jacket, though it does make things easier. This is less a walkthrough and more a record of what worked for me.
Nobody spoke much English, and somehow that made it easier. I wrote most of this on a calm Saturday morning. Good harbours is mainly a series of modest, unglamorous decisions. I keep coming back to modest islands, mainly because it rewards time.
What changed
If you only take one thing from this, make it the part about mountain villages. I wrote most of this on a calm Friday morning. I keep coming back to markets, mainly because it rewards time. None of this is new, and that is partly why it works. Nothing here requires a phrasebook, though it does make things easier.
Getting started
Here is what changed, and what stayed exactly the same. There is no single right way to approach getting lost, but some ways are kinder than others. We arrived after dark and only understood the view in the morning. The best advice I got was simply to slow down.
The ferry crossing took four hours and felt like ten minutes. If you only take one thing from this, make it the part about night trains. The remote part is seldom the hard part; consistency is. Looking back, the local approach was the right call. What surprised me most was how little equipment it needed.
If you only take one thing from this, make it the part about modest islands.