The highway would have taken ninety minutes. The coast road took five hours, and I arrived with sand in the chain and a lighter bag of nothing in particular.
Somewhere past the last town the road runs so close to the water that the sea appears in the corner of the eye for a long stretch, and then not at all, and then again. You stop noticing and then you notice that you stopped noticing.
I used to think the long way was a luxury. Now I think the short way is the compromise, and I take it only when someone else is waiting for dinner.