The Great Swale Path (extract 1)
this is a travel journal of an English-speaking man visiting modern-day Sertia, who walked the 300 mile Swale Path across the country.
Few would underestimate the cultural diversity of the European Union. Even fewer would underestimate our economic success or our championing of free trade and movement. The vast expanses of the EU make for a seemingly endless world of various opportunities. And, in various ways, these superlatives apply to every single nation on the European continent, if perhaps in different ways.
And only a few years ago, much to my surprise, my overwhelmingly (if not slightly biased) positive assessment of the European continent found its way to the Caribbean with the addition of the République de Nofoaga to the ranks of the EU. This was, in my opinion, and speaking for all EU travel writers, the best decision both the EU and Nofoaga ever made. The little island of Nofoaga is one to which I return very frequently, for in such small proximity endless beauty for all the senses awaits.
We've all certainly heard about the eruption of Mauga'afi in 2021, and the endless gloomy statistics around it: the deaths of hundreds and injuries of many, many more; and more than lives lost, millions of livelihoods and generational businesses crumbled before the eyes of their loving makers; monuments buried, possibly forever. It is events like these which are humbling to travel writers like myself, reminding me of the fragility of what is beautiful about our world, and the uniqueness of it in the span of what we have explored of the place beyond our Earth.
It is events such as these that many travel writers and media publicists attribute to underdeveloped nations. There is a pervasive narrative that nations who experience such large-scale disasters are doomed to forever be developing or poor. And if not actually developing or poor, then at least in the eyes of the people on the Continent who live a high-tech, high-speed and high-quality life.
However pervasive, this narrative is entirely baseless. In fact, Mauga'afi didn't dredge the Nofoagans deeper into their own mud. It brought out the true spirit of the Nofoagan people: neighbours housed neighbours, families helped families, chefs cooked for those who had no food, builders and humanitarian workers searched tirelessly for those who had gone missing. Buildings were rebuilt, and life went on.
Nofoaga had always been a country I loved to visit. But it was the events after Mauga'afi, and witnessing the kindness of the Nofoagan people, that really drew my attention to the Caribbean, a powerhouse in its own way.
It was in Nofoaga that I heard about the application of Sertia to join the EU for the first time. I was with my tour guide Rémy, who was equally as surprised as I was at this news. For many years the borders of Sertia had been completely shut to all citizens of the EU, the Sertians opting instead to manage their own empire of surrounding islands. The last ferry between Nofoaga and Sertia was in 1861, when the ferry redirected from Sertia to the West Olves.
I recovered a journal of a Nofoagan traveller to Sertia from April 1861, about a month before the last ferry departed for Nofoaga. They detailed their travels by rickety train across the country, the vast wind-swept marshy flats, castles in the distance and various wild birds captivating their imagination. Nofoaga certainly has its fair share of these things, but for such a close neighbour to describe their neighbouring country as so wholly different to their own amplified my Sertian intrigue to another level.
So for many years, myself and many Nofoagans would stare out the southern coast to the towering cliffs of the Sertian island, so close and yet so far away. Had I tried to swim there, I would have been eaten by a shark or eaten by the Sertians. For all we knew, there was nothing there!
When Gadalland and Aspern announced its first visa policy for EU citizens, I finished my online application and was approved within three days. I travelled via ferry into the city of Plariaras, a storied medieval city I recalled from reading News from Dróinstea, where Sarpara Manniach must travel to Plariaras whilst being pursued by her former lover and sworn enemy.
And me, naturally being a new-age Sarpara, also travelled to Plariaras where my Sertian adventure began.