25k on a shingle track through farmland was worth it. I had no idea what to expect, and consequently badly underestimated the time it would take to get out, not even to the end of the spit, and back.
Looking down the coast, the sea and the land melted into dreamworld, otherworld. Despite the soft colours and gentle touch of the waves against the shore, there was evidence enough that this place is definitely somewhere in between. The sense is of a place precariously balanced between land, sea and sky.
I can see that I’ll be doing this trip a few times.