The Corsica Ferry – Part 1: No Cabins

"There are no cabins," said the purser, gently.

Louise looked at her ticket, then at the rows of tired passengers settling down on the benches of the great ferry. The Mediterranée was leaving Marseille at dusk, bound for Corsica, packed with holidaymakers and campers and a hundred sleepy children. She was thirty-four, a doctor from Lyon, with a rucksack, a book and a sudden consciousness that her booking had been for a seat.

"A seat is the best I can do. There are chairs on the upper deck."

"Thank you."

The upper deck was open to the sky, with rows of reclining chairs, most already occupied by sleeping bags and bundled blankets. At the end of the last row stood one empty chair, beside a man with a thermos.

He was thirty-seven, tall and dark, in a thick blue jumper and a woolly hat, with a rueful smile and a paperback face-down on his knee. "Antoine," he said. "That one is free. It is also broken. It will not recline."

"I'll manage."

"It is also cold."

"I've got a coat."

"I have two blankets," said Antoine. "And a thermos of very sweet tea. I am only offering."

She hesitated. Then she laughed, because it was absurd, and sat. The ferry slid out of the harbour. The lights of Marseille shrank behind them, glittering orange and gold on the black water. The wind was warm and smelled of salt and diesel. Overhead, the sky was deep violet, and the first star, then the second, appeared.

He handed her a blanket and a cup. The tea was strong and sweet and hot. She drank, her shoulders loosening.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To walk. Across the island. Twenty days."

"Alone?"

"Until now."

She smiled. By midnight the deck was dark and the stars were thick. The whole Milky Way spilled across the sky. They lay side by side in their chairs, wrapped in wool, talking in low voices, her broken chair propped on her rucksack.

"Can I ask you something?" said Antoine.

"Yes."

"Why did you take the ferry?"

"To stop being useful for a week," said Louise. "I'm very tired."

"Green?" he said, a ferry lamp.

"Green," said Louise. "Very green. Tell me about the walk."

Continue the story: Part 2 – Landfall.