Kirrin Island UDI

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Living on an island is a most bizarre – but strongly recommended – experience. From attempted killings to adultery, it’s a bit like Midsummer Murders meets Wife Swap but with less diversity. The upsides are to be celebrated. A view from my bed of the ancient and regal River Thames, the draw of community and the tranquility of no traffic. As I cross the rickety foot bridge (more later) I enter a territory that we collectively call home in a way that other neighbourhoods are unable to achieve. All of these reasons and more are why I could live here for many years to come.

There are downsides of course; I’d be kidding if there weren’t. Primarily the attempted murders which seem to stem from historic animosity between feuding families. I exaggerate of course – this seems limited to someone scattering tacks on the road so that the only islander allowed to drive his vehicle on the island would crash off the bridge and into the icy Thames. It was a good plot for Morse who would have drunk a bottle of claret before dispatching the Community Support Officers to investigate – and that’s what happened. We’ve now got a sign on the bridge that says Welcome to Kirrin Island – attempted murders in the last six months, zero. Please drive carefully – you know who you are.

For us lesser pedestrian mortals, I continue to cycle on and off the island and we leave a car on the mainland for reasons of living in the 21st century. Today I shall be mostly ogling the fit rowers and enticing them over with offers of cake. It’s a hard life.
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