The ocean comes into view as the road cuts near to cliffs and black beaches, before pulling away again, plunging into barren, bleak rock fields from another planet . The road curls up the mountain, away from flat, green alpine valleys, where thin, snaking waterfalls and clear stony rivers, meet you on the descent. The drastic changes in the landscape define the journey, disturbed only by lone farm buildings or private tracks which fall away into the distance.
It’s not uncommon to go for long stretches of time without seeing any other people. When pulling over in the mountains, which quiet the winds, it takes a second to realise just how peaceful it is. There’s absolutely no noise.
For me, the most striking factor of the round trip is that for the vast majority of the journey, the only sign of civilisation is the road in front, which feels like it is skating on top of surface, as if the land has only given it a provisional lease to be there. The power of such massive nature is striking when considering how young the views in front are and how they are changing constantly, with mountains tearing through the surface, waterfalls cutting away at the rocks, huge boulders reguarly ejected from the cliffs, and canyons ripped open by glaciers.