Not used to the train timetable yet, so the journey home was a lot more tedious than it should have been.

Went out for a walk after 10pm. Walked down to the sea and crunched about a bit on the pebbles. I can’t help feeling I’m acting suspiciously doing this. Behind my back the good people of Brighton were mostly indoors, or to be glimpsed through windows of cosy pubs rather than eccentrically lurking.

On this most crowded corner of a crowded island it was good to get my face blown coldly and watch the white tops of the waves race in out of the dark. A little scrap of wildness. I stood for a couple of minutes to look at the half moon on its back in a dark and cloudy sky and listen to catamaran masts and wires chinking urgently in the gale.

Worth every hour of the commute I’d say.