I set off with a backpack I could carry with one hand and a loose idea of following the river from the hills to the coast.
By day three I had stopped worrying about what I had not brought. By day five I had given my spare jumper to a hostel lost-and-found because it was taking up space I wanted for bread.
The river
The river set the pace. Wide and slow in the mornings, fast and loud after rain. Some days I drove fifty kilometres, some days five.
When I got home I unpacked in four minutes. It felt like the best possible review of the trip.