slow travel notes from Europe
There is a particular kind of quiet that settles over the Prinsengracht before eight in the morning. The bicycles have not yet begun their daily stampede, and the houseboats sit perfectly still, mirrored in water the colour of pewter.
The ferry from Turku costs less than a cup of coffee and takes you past more islands than you could visit in a lifetime. In late summer the light lingers until nearly eleven.
Two merino shirts, one pair of trousers, a paperback, and a small notebook. Everything else is negotiable.