Heurtebise.

Heurtebise.

There is always something magical, almost mystical, about crossing the Cook strait, between the two main islands of New Zealand.
For a couple of hours you are nowhere.
Just 'in between'.
Quite often the weather is rough. The rain is horizontal. The ship is shaking.
The passengers need to go out.


And when they came back I felt like Heurtebise waiting for Orpheus to cross the mirror.

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