I watched the ferryman for a time on the quay, his boat quaint but a little shabby. His sign merely indicated its function but not the destination.
Curiosity can lead down too many wrong roads, but if you want to know the answer, at some point you have to ask the question. So I strolled casually to the ferryman, the question prepared.
‘Where does your ferry go to?’ I asked.
He scratched his chin and smiled back.
‘Where would you like to go?’
‘I don’t know, unless you tell me the possibilities.’
‘When you decide where you want to go, come back and I will take you there.’
‘It’s what I said.’
‘And how much would it cost?’
‘I don’t charge a fee. You decide where you want to go and what you think it’s worth; that’s what you pay me.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense, what if I don’t think it’s worth much?’
‘Then maybe you have to consider why you want to go there.’
I took a moment to think.
‘So I have to decide, where I want to go and how much it’s worth to me to get there?’