It seems it is either the highway or the high way. I rolled off the boat into driving rain and the day turned to me and asked ‘do you prefer lorries or mountains?’
Instinctively I said mountains, but I never felt sure about my decision.
To begin with I had no choice. Lorries streamed past me and showered me with their fine run-off spray but soon I reached the edge of the port town and the question was posed.
Now, I can’t be certain about the terrain of the road I didn’t take but I can be pretty sure it didn’t have a jolly big mountain in it. And I’m not talking Fuji or Ben Nevis but considering I started the day at sea level 500 metre peaks take some climbing. And on my first full day. I’m a masochist. As a rule though, you get better views from the mountain roads.
I’m not quite at the cape. I’m at a campsite about 5km from the cape. I’m guessing it’s not the season for cape viewing because there’s no one around. I’ve got a roaring Pacific and a howling wind for company and I’m nervous. Terrified really. What have I got myself into? Days of sore bum and sore legs, nights of fear and loneliness. I better get used to it quickly.
I struggled to appreciate the view.