I arrived at the dock before the ferry had docked. The smells of the ocean, dead fish, and garbage assaulted my senses. There was already a crowd of people, and a few animals, waiting for the boat. In the distance, I could hear the hum of an engine and the blades of propellers ripping through the calm waters. Beside me, fishermen were hauling freshly-caught fish from tiny motorboats. As they awkwardly maneuvered these large, exotic delicacies around (some of which seemed more like sea monsters), I was splashed with cold water that still smelt like the fish it came off of. The water, however disgusting, was refreshing compared to the heat and humidity that brought out every unimaginable smell from the garbage left rotting in the open sewers that lined each street.

The ferry docked and chaos ensued. People and animals stampeded off and on simultaneously: I was simply carried by their movements. On board the ferry it was just as crowded as on the docks. I found a nice spot to sit between a cow and a cart full of cabbages. Flies circled around my area and I wasn’t sure if they were coming from me or my new companion–the cow. Twenty minutes have never seemed longer. I tried to escape the slum that was the inside of this ferry by looking out the widow–or was it just a hole–behind me. I shifted my body around to get a good position to look out, carefully, trying to not knock over any cabbages. Outside, I could see the picturesque little fishing village I had just left. Behind it, hills rose up to the sky.

Days ago, I had hiked those same hills with a friend; however, we parted ways once we arrived in the fishing village. He had returned home, yet I was just beginning my adventure. I was heading to somewhere that was always just beyond the current town I was in: I was searching for a place that would be appropriate to end my journey. Although, the only places I found called upon me to keep going. I didn’t know why I took this ferry: it just happened to leave from the village I was staying in and was going somewhere I hadn’t been.

The scenes of small boats resting on calm, open water were replaced, yet again, by another bustling town. This one, I could see, was bigger that the one I just came from. The ferry pulled into the dock, and unloaded withthe same organized chaos as at the previous port of call. I parted ways with the cow, and the flies, and set out alone. The main road of the town lead me to a little inn. Inside, one lonely fan blew trying to keep the room cold, yet the heat from the afternoon sun was too strong. From the window in my room on the second floor, I could see the town still bustling as I lay down for a rest.