The Salt and Vinegar Path

So late in coming to the party and the after party. Only watched this film the other day. Not read the book. Too many things happening around and about this real or not so real life drama to know what to make of any of it. I also think I'm too old for long distance hiking and wild camping these days. I'm unlikely to follow in anyone's footsteps. Look upon this as an odd kind of film non-review film review.

"All the money was gone. We set out along the coast with the wind coming in hard off the water and "bags light" because light was all we could manage. The path was white with salt but our boots took it all in, step by step, as if we were meant to be eaten up by it, inside everything else. According to the guidance provided by the faithful map, the journey unfolded. 

We had the crisps then. Salt and vinegar. They cut the tongue and made the mouth more honest. We shared them without talking. The sea went on and the gulls kept their distance. Understandably. It was enough to walk and to chew and to feel the ache come on to us, clean, simple and salty.

At night we camped where the grass bent high and the cliffs kept a low watch. Locals prodded us through the tent fabric. No easy sleep under canvas. The snack packets crackled in the dark. The vinegar stayed with us, sharp as memory, and the salt stayed too, in the skin and on the breath. We were poor but never lacking. 

The path asked only that we continue and so we did, then the tide arrived in the wrong place. In the morning the bags were lighter once again, but wetter. The sea was still there, this time in another place, punching faces, blue and true. We ate the last of the crisps and laughed once, briefly looking up. The taste was strong and the day was long/hot and that was just how it had to be. I fell into a thorn bush and that was very unpleasant. So I decided I still had to write all this stuff down for our own future reference. Right now I'd kill for a shower."