In the Van
Getting the van was a four hour hassle too tedious to recount, and my first day of driving was prolonged by traffic, needing to put air in my right front tire, and wanting to stop to clarify my destination so I would know exactly where to go. The plan was to make a stop in Hamburg at about the 5 hour mark, and then drive a bit more to get closer to hiking for the next day. I got a later start than I had planned (see four hour hassle), which put me squarely in rush hour, etc., etc.
But the point I was getting to is that I notice that when I am not feeling responsible for the happiness of another person, my tolerance for hassles is high. Things just don’t bother me much. And it’s all me. No recent companions have expected me to husband their happiness — that is entirely self imposed. It is quite lovely to not be trying to manage someone else’s experience or expectations. I realize that there would be great benefit in maintaining this minding of my own business when in the company of others.
I spent two days driving through rural Netherlands, verdant and sunny Germany and fields of Danish lupine to get to the Northernmost tip of Denmark. Who knew that there were stunning beaches up there, with flocks of surfers cruising in the waves like a pod of slim seals. Took a long walk along the shore and up through the dunes, carefully heeding the signs warning of quick sand (!). A perfect bluebird day.






A late evening ferry crossing from Denmark to Norway will position me for the real beginning of the trip.
I am comfortable enough on my own — still noticing the complete absence of anyone else’s preferences or desires. I don’t want to become unable to compromise. Little danger of that, I suspect. In society, I feel that I move through territory without notice. I am not invisible, but nothing about me draws attention. Which I appreciate. I leave no wake. I am trying to make myself talk aloud in the car, because I know that people’s voices get compromised by disuse. Also, I'll likely be "talking" more here for the next bit.