A walk after dinner is either clockwise or anti-clockwise.
1,856 containers, 6 passengers and 17 crew packed into a metal can. A tight little kingdom ruled by the grumpy captain from above and by the fat chief-engineer from below.
There is a dizzying paradox of scale. We are all stuck on a 175m chunk of steel – a finite lump pushing through the water. But beyond the rails we are embedded in a boundless army of waves. Claustrophobia and agoraphobia wash over each other.