The dust blew up and caused him to blink, momentarily pausing to rub his eyes. It had been a long journey here, and he had little strength left for what was still to be done. His once robust shoes barely kept out the elements. He wished he’d had time to replace them.

Ahead, the terrain started to become more verdant. A mangy dog that had been following him for a while seemed to lose interest and lay down, stretching itself out under a scrubby bush. The constant wind brooded overhead, occasionally lashing out to demonstrate its potent force.

The man’s gait was that of an experienced traveller, one who was used to walking great distances. Although clearly exhausted, there was purpose in his stride. His dusty clothes hung off him, as if he had lost a great deal of weight since he bought them. In the crook of his right arm he carried a leather-bound book with no obvious markings and he occasionally used his left hand to hold a threadbare panama hat against the wind’s might to his thinning head of hair. His expression was one of calm determination but lines in his forehead betrayed a deeper anxiety, a fear that he wanted to hide.

The rough path he was travelling wound in a leisurely direction but off it was much rougher terrain, affording no short cuts. The slowly increasing vegetation consisted mostly of gorse and other unforgiving shrubs but here and there a berry bush fought its way to life. The man occasionally stooped to pick their fruit, enjoying the tiny concentrations of pungent sweetness.

He liked this country. No pretence, no deception could be made as here too much effort was required just to survive. Honesty was the characteristic he valued most, and here he saw it everywhere. No space here for politics or trite product advertisements.

The path narrowed as it passed through a gap between two sheer rock formations. They could have been natural or manmade, but were so worn as to be featureless. Here the man slowed, wary perhaps of what might be waiting out of his view. Far above, two vultures scoured the valley floor for sustenance, one screaming savagely. The man cleared the pass without incident, turning to look back. No one followed, although the dog had somehow managed to catch up with him. He ignored it and strode on, a slight increase in his pace. On this side of the pass, the wind was calmer, like it was holding its breath. Here the track started to straighten and head east. The end was nearly in sight.