for a night, I made coffee and stared out at the sharp hills. There are lonely spots in Dorset a few miles in from the coast, valleys like this one where you could plant an orchard behind walls and collect a library of hideaway books. Keep a rib or a small launch for watery escapes. And I like the owls and the sheep, the secret lanes and the sea fog blowing in over the trees. But I’m not ready for full-Hardy yet, I’m city-tied for a few more years.