You can’t get here via road. You have to take a boat or kayak of some sort. Then you sit and watch the river, and life on the river, go by. Otters pop up in the water and then dive below, the play in the wake of passing boats, The birdlife sing symphonies as yet unheard. You make food, you eat, you wash, you sleep, and you sit and watch the world – a little bit of a break – a little island in time. There are some who feel you owe them something. Some who feel you’ve done them wrong. Some who feel you’ve slighted them. Some who feel you’ve changed and they resent you for it. But then the spot reminds you of something else you’ve seen, and you say to yourself: If you feel aggrieved by me, you might as well go fishing with Freddo.