6 April 2015
In the end we decided to go back towards the salt house.
“At least we’ll be able to follow the map from there,” I said as we stopped for a moment on the bridge over the sluice. In the distance I could see the masts in the harbour and, in the inlet, a small sailing ship and tender. Little groups of people seemed to be on all the paths going in all directions and I wondered if we were making the right choice. The harbour didn’t look that far off and, by going back, it seemed as if we’d be going away from it. Back the way we’d come there were ducks swimming on the canal and I tried to imagine it as it would have been, thick and white with salt. Continue reading A salt reprise, closed paths, detours and Ice cream
