Ferry

Local

To reach today’s square, I needed to make a short crossing on a small ferry, which I knew would be fun but also added the tiniest frac- tion of hassle to proceedings, which is all I ever need to be tempt- ed to procrastinate. That quibble aside, I always enjoy ferry crossings. The only thing that beats them are cable ferries across rivers, with a bonus point for those you have to hail by shouting, hoping that the ferryman hasn’t gone home for lunch or closed for the season. Though these journeys are brief, they have the excitement of crossing a border, a boundary, to somewhere new.

Although today’s river was only a few hundred metres wide, I wasn’t brave enough to swim or canoe across it. The brown water swirled and boiled with eddies and undertows, and ships ploughed up and down. Even the ferry struggled, crossing the current in a wide, swerving arc.

As the ferry slowed down to dock, I looked back across the river at the landscapes I had been linking this year. I enjoyed seeing those con- nections from this fresh perspective, noting how this place joined onto that place. I wheeled my bike down a causeway of riveted girders, over tidal mud and shopping trolleys, then pedalled away from the ferry.