England's South Coast

I left the hostel before any of the people who ran it were up, so forfeited my deposit for a much needed early start to the day. I quite liked the pubic transit advertisement I saw in Exeter's bus station. 

I soon arrived in Lyme Regis on Jurassic Coast, so named because the eroded cliffs have exposed the Jurrasic layer  of the compressed earth, exposing numerous fossils. I debated with myself whether or not I would attempt to sift the sand for fossils while I enjoyed the views of the cliffs and ocean. I opted to visit the dinosaur museum instead. It was quite good, especially for a small town museum, and was full of fossilized dinosaurs that I hadn't even heard of before (and I recently brought up pachycephalosaurus in ordinary conversation with friends). 

My busy day continued with a ride out to Dorchester. I visited the museum, which contained more fossils and an exhibit on Maiden Castle, the largest Iron Age hillfort in Britain. It thrived from about 500 BCE until the Romans captured it in 43 CE, which we know because of the Briton skeleton with a Roman cross bow bolt in his spine that archaeologists found there. I left my pack at the museum while I headed out to Maiden Castle itself. I had to run in order to get there and return before the museum closed. The four mile jog in the shade-less heat was exhausting, but the view of the fortifications was worth it. I wasn't able to take a picture that captures it well, but I assure you, it actually was quite impressive.

Corfe Castle, on the other hand, could not be more picturesque. Even from the bus stop it was amazing.

The castle was besieged during the English civil war, leaving the castle that perfect mix of ruined and preserved.

The wicker dragon was clearly placed here for the entertainment of small children - and me.

The gate was blasted so that the two halves are now considerably different from each other in height, depth, and angle.

Obligatory tourist photo. I couldn't tell you why I took this despite my usual pains to eschew tourist stereotypes.

Thatch roof cottages! Actually, the village just outside the castle gates had quite nice stone homes, but still, thatched roofs.

Having thoroughly soaked in Corfe Castle's magnificence, I took a series of buses and trains to Eastborne. I missed the check in at the youth hostel by eight minutes because it was a mile away from the train station. I took this in stride. I ate a fourteen inch pizza by myself to recharge, then headed onward to Hastings. I wandered the beach town, through the main street and past closed amusement parks, and up onto the cliffs across from the small ruined castle. There I made myself a nest under the sparse branches of a thorn bush and slept quite comfortably until being woken at daybreak by birds and early morning walkers.