Journeying Solo: Lulworth & Beyond

so I booked a few days at a youth hostel and packed my bags with some clothes and a map and got the train... wholly unprepared, wholly unexpecting. It was so surreal, my journey, it was so surreal and dreamlike- a series of events, that may not have happened, who's to bear witness. Me? My thoughts so scatty, my memory so selective... this journey... bits of a jigsaw- an emotion, an image, an experience. To try to express them with words- nothingness- there are none- a lone wander under the gleaming moon, sitting in solitude on the path to St Oswalds Bay, staring out at Lulworth Cove early in the morning, immersed in the blue blue waters beside Durdle Door. Solitude, quiet upon quiet, an empty room in an empty hostel, a silent dinner, a silent breakfast, a silent walk, a silent wander, remote tracks and empty fields, the rooster's crow and there, and there and there... the noise inside my head. It's noisy inside my head. 

Happiness consists in realising life is all a great strange dream...