Take the first step out of your home. Walk down the lane of your childhood, then turn left, onto the ford of the far-away river. Right at the blackberry%20bush,%20continue%20past%20the%20totems%20to the%20Winter%20Saint,%20and%20enter%20the%20nameless%20road,%20to%20the%20way%20of%20the%20carriages.%20Listen%20to%20the%20roar%20of%20these%20demonic,%20horseless%20carts.%20The%20coachmen%20observe%20your%20journey%20with%20curiosity,%20but%20pay%20them%20no%20heed.%20The%20naked trees are giants, a row of soldiers, and protect you.

Regard the white%20lion%20that%20guards%20Valhalla's%20gates.%20At%20the%20crossroads,%20choose%20the%20path%20of%20the%20king's%20fort.%20Be%20wary%20of%20the%20giant%20near%20Kingdom%20Hall.%20Spend%20a%20few%20moments%20at%20the%20edge%20of%20the%20hushed%20river.%20Stand%20in%20the%20wild%20grass%20and%20pay%20tribute%20to%20the%20eight%20stone%20sisters.%20A%20silver%20wild%20cat%20prowls%20these%20parts,%20though%20you%20can%20placate%20her%20with%20a%20tale%20from%20your%20ancestors.%20Walk%20past%20the%20King's%20castle,%20facing%20the%20silver%20sea%20and%20the%20home%20of%20ravens.%20Beware%20the%20false%20king,%20the%20king%20of%20the%20lions,%20who%20lives nearby.%20Cross%20the%20island,%20and%20the%20birds%20greet%20you%20as%20you%20walk%20under%20their%20floating bridge.

You need strength for the final and most dangerous part of your journey. Observe the sign%20that%20warns%20you%20not%20to%20take%20rest.%20Duck%20under%20the%20yellow%20Cyclops%20-%20you%20are%20small%20but%20brave.%20Here%20the%20path%20ends,%20for%20no%20traveller%20comes%20this%20way%20by%20foot,%20but%20you%20can%20press%20on%20through%20the%20river.%20Observe%20the%20red%20heavens%20above%20you:%20the%20Kingdom%20of%20the%20Angels.%20The%20pyramid marks a waypoint.

Here is the old%20temple,%20sooner%20than%20you%20expected.%20The%20gate is unlocked. The garden is small. Strangely, you feel at home. You search the graves and find hers at last. There are fresh flowers. You have brought no gifts, so you search your pockets, and clumsily grant the dead a two pence coin, shining and new, to pay the ferryman. You squeeze the coin between the grave and the earth, warm and snug, as an embrace. The temple smiles, appeased.

You sit on the bench for a while, feeling as if you could sleep here.

The hardest part is leaving. You close the gate behind you. You will make the pilgrimage again in a few more years.