We meant to take the shortcut. Instead, the lane turned left, then climbed, then opened onto a view of the sea that made us stop mid-sentence.
The little town was waking slowly: shutters opening, a broom across a stone doorstep, someone setting out a chalkboard sign. We had no map worth following and no reason to hurry back.
I like a place best when I have walked it a little aimlessly. The corners you miss from a car, the bakery you find because it smells like warm sugar, the steps that lead to a patch of blue you did not know was there.
We got to the water eventually. But the long way there was the part I wanted to remember.
A little reminder:
You don’t have to make a moment grand for it to be worth remembering.