I like to go out on the deck towards the end of the short journey. There’s just something so empowering about watching the sea pass under the ferry and being mobile while the buildings and lighthouse stand stationary – stuck – on the land. As I watch the last few minutes of the leftover pink sunset sky, I dream. Of where in the world I want to go; of how I hope to get to see other oceans, other sunsets, and be just as moved by their beauty as I am by the scene before me. Snapping back to reality: a train whistle. I look and see it snaking among…