The logic of the fields were that they formed a regular grid. I could walk one direction, turn left, later turn left again. One more left and I would eventually intersect my path and be able to head for home. Mostly this worked well and every time I headed out this direction I would get more adventurous. If I went east I would cross the Port Louis Rd and more fields would open up. And I started to learn that each block of fields was not so monotonous. Particularly close to the coast road, the fields had been taken out of production; some were wastelands of weedy vegetation but others were being built on, and ever more grand mansions were being constructed here. But I also found out that the cane tracks themselves were not as regular as I had thought. Once I had set out a little later than usual and as the tropical sunset was only an hour away I wanted to get as much in as possible, so I walked faster. I went over the Port Louis Rd and continued east. I knew if I turned north again I would end up in Calodyne and could make my way back along the road or shore path to the house. I did so and found the track descending below the fields. I was entering an abandoned quarry. Beside the track were piles of rocks similar to the cairns out in the fields themselves, but I was getting deeper and deeper into a gully from which people had obviously excavated the faces. Worse still, when I turned a slight corner, which itself was a surprising anomaly on the tracks in these fields, I found my way barred by a wall of volcanic rubble covered in creepers and shrubs. There was no more track. Even if I had been wearing better clothing, I doubt I would have made it over the pile of rocks without sustaining flesh wounds. There was no alternative but to head back. I realised some of the cane tracks not only were cul-de-sacs, but some did turn 90 degrees with no junctions. On a short walk this could seriously lengthen your hike and with the sun setting and dogs howling in the distance, and my platypus water container in a landfill 30km away; I was not really ready to survive a night out in the fields.

When the cane is high it is easy to get lost