After some time by the campfire and a bite to eat, Jenassa and I are ready to resume our seaside journey. Fortunately the wind has calmed down considerably, and the sun has risen high in the sky, shining down with a warmth that allows us to douse the fire without feeling the earlier chill in the air. Packing our bags with anything we can find that’s worth taking, we mount up and continue on our way.
The wild north sea batters itself ceaselessly against multiple small rocky islands and craggy outcroppings that stand just offshore. The weathered refuse of driftwood is scattered all along the beach, like old bones left behind after the meal of an ancient and voracious predator. Tufts of ragged grass sprout up from the bare rocks, clinging to whatever sheltered nook they can find, and the warmth of the sun belies the icy blue of the glaciers, silently drifting away on their inexorable odyssey.
