I hate chain stores, supermarkets and the homogeneity of the UK high street as much as the next person; I also love the beauty and untouched tranquillity of the Scilly Isles – but come on, Tesco really need to plonk a huge superstore on the island of Tresco, just so they can say we got a Tesco on Tresco.

(The island of Tresco is occasionally misheard as Tesco. Which reminds me – sort of – when I was in Iceland, the country. I got a call from an employment agency. I told them we shouldn’t talk for long, I was in Iceland, this call will cost you a fortune. Oh, doing your shopping are you? The agent said. No, I said, Iceland the country, not the supermarket. Oh! she said, okay, let’s make it brief.)

(Looking through old notebooks, this is what I wrote about the Isles of Scilly at the time:

The sweet smell of gorse as the sun sets.
Wild garlic growing in the hedgerows.
The giant ancient anchor in the field of bluebells.
Balmy, hazy islands in the distance
Like a giant’s stepping stones.
Shipwrecks and seals.
Daffodils and dolphins.
White, deserted beaches.
“Don’t come back here,
They’ll be no more water!”*

*Personal joke, you had to be there.)