"The fourth Switzerland trip should not start from zero. It should start from three."
The Least Interesting Case Is the First Trip
Here is the sentence that explains why this engine exists at all: the target experience is not demonstrated by a generic first-time traveler. Every travel app on the market is optimized for that person — someone with no history, organizing one trip. Waystone is optimized for the opposite: Dad planning a fourth Switzerland journey while Pippa already knows the previous three. Places visited. Plans abandoned and why. Pace and fatigue patterns. Preferences. Weather outcomes. Mom's reactions. Written logs and media. Unresolved wishes that never got scheduled. For this engine, a first trip is the least interesting case, because there is nothing to compound yet.
Everything in This Quest Was for This
Look back and you will see that every discipline in this quest exists to make compounding possible. The four temporal states mean you still know what you planned and abandoned, not just what happened. Field capture means the moments got recorded at all, in the rain, in seconds. One state, many projections means you can look at it as a globe, a map, or a lens without any of them drifting. Retrieval means you can find the relevant slice among years of it. Carve means even Mom's OneNote photo made it in without being falsified. And reuse means the engine stayed small enough to actually get built. Remove any one, and the fourth trip starts closer to zero.
Compounding Is a Discipline, Not a Feature
Notice what compounding required: not a clever algorithm, but a refusal — over and over — to let the present overwrite the past. Don't rewrite the plan. Don't merge planned into actual. Don't let the map store its own truth. Don't let a retrospective tidy away the mess. Don't invent what you don't know. Each refusal costs a little convenience and buys a little memory, and the interest accrues quietly until the fourth journey opens with three trips of context already loaded. That is the compounding: not a feature you add at the end, but the sum of every small honesty you kept along the way.