'm finally here at the last outpost on my way to the uncharted lands far to the east of the charted world. I still have no watch after losing it somewhere in Mos Swamp City, so using my sophisticated city-bred sensibilities, the time of day will henceforth continue to be recorded in the fashion of an awkward attempt to strike a conversation with someone on the weather.I had just finished my two-hour climb down from the edge of the Bongo cliffs, surrounded by the sea and a white sandy beach. The rope bridge had just collapsed in a summer storm last night, so the only way down from Mia's boarding house was a steep staircase lined with handholds, winding down the cliff-face. I sat down to have a sandwich Mia had packed for me in my satchel bag.
Cloudy mid-afternoon.
My path had yet to appear, so as I sat on a rock musing at the little rock-pools busy with tiny crabs and starfish, I entertained myself with thoughts of what I would have been doing right now if I were still working at my job in the city: (lunch, paperwork, then napping in the store closet). Quitting, and selling everything I owned to finance my long-promised adventure was, hands down, the best choice I had made this fiscal year.
Woohoo! The tide has finally gone down, and my path is revealed. A long white sand-bridge, straight as an arrow, has appeared with the low tide, joining Bongo's tall cliff-islands to the mainland. The sandy path was crawling with crustaceans, but I paid them too little notice as I was too excited to see the beautiful far green lands on the other side, much to the dismay of a few disgruntled stepped-on shellfish.
