“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”
– Marcel Proust, ‘La Prisonnière’
It was around 2am, and just after my friend’s relatively quiet birthday celebrations.
A friend and I made our way down to the pebbled and sea weed covered beach near his house. It was a long and narrow beach which ran along the main road towards the city.
When we finally stopped we were standing on the narrow, stoned wall, around 200 metres from the beach.The deep water surrounded us at both sides, eerily and quiet splashing below us as we stood and looked across the sea towards the city.
My battery died shortly after.