Field Notes from the Coast Road
A paper map invites conversations that a phone never does. The remote part is rarely the hard part; consistency is. Off-season towns are quieter, cheaper and far more candid. I packed too much, as usual, and wore the same jacket every day.
A note on tools
The ferry crossing took four hours and felt like ten minutes. I would rather do one thing with care than five things quickly. The best advice I got was simply to slow down. Half of the work is deciding what to leave out. I keep coming back to mountain villages, largely because it rewards time.
- Do less packing light, more getting lost
- Ask someone at the night ferry
- Keep a phrasebook within reach
- Stop before you are tired
Getting started
Nothing here requires a phrasebook, though it does make things easier. Little, repeatable steps beat big plans very nearly every time. Some of this will be obvious; some of it took me years. This began as a quick note and slowly turned into something longer. Looking back, the remote approach was the right call.
- Compare against last summer
- Leave room for unplanned mistakes
- Give walking between towns a full autumn
- Do less learning a few words, more getting lost
- Stop before you are tired
Trade-offs
The trick, if there is one, is to leave plenty of room for errors. Nobody spoke much English, and somehow that made it easier. Nothing here requires a rain jacket, though it does make things easier.
The details matter less than the practice of paying attention. There is a version of this that is much more complicated. This is not that version. I like old maps that shows the marks of how it was made. Between packing light and keeping a journal, the second one taught me more. The windswept part is rarely the hard part; consistency is.
Looking back, the overland approach was the right call.