Without jinxing myself, I like to think I’ve either been lucky over the years or I’ve managed to avoid the more dubious parts of the world.

Until last year I’d never been burgled – there was an attempt on my parents’ place when I was a newborn, but my mother scared the eejit back out the window by screaming like a banshee, the maternal protection instinct was strong in her – and I’ve only been mugged once.  Caveat: My house at uni was burgled, whilst my housemate was in the bath, but they only grabbed a couple of items and none of mine; so although this partially counts, it feels more of an anecdote than an actual burglary.  We had to tell the police she was in the bath!

That said, after the burglaries last August I did feel slightly nervous about being home alone, not that there was much left to steal….  And the police made it clear that there’s a strict line when it comes to penalties if a wannabe burglar puts a single lady at risk; therefore they will run away if you make noise.  If all my crime/thriller reading has taught me anything, it is to expect that you might go mute with fear – but any noise is enough, so I’ll be going straight for the pots and pans.  Also I’ve moved somewhere with very effective shutters, so when I’m away the place is nice and safe – less so when I’m here as I like to let the lady cats have their freedom, but I’m never more than ten feet from said pots and pans. 

The mugging, three years ago now, was quite a weird experience; I didn’t follow the rules because I went after him, I know you’re supposed to just let your possessions go, but again instinct kicked in and I wanted to protect my stuff.  I didn’t catch him, damned heels, and when I stopped running I cried a lot.  And the next night, in a hotel in Portugal on my own, I admit I was scared.  Without reason; why would I be more at risk in that hotel than any of the many, many nights I’ve spent in hotels on my own before?  Perhaps it was the fact I felt slightly violated, or because I was already on borrowed money and had no phone, so was mentally more alone than otherwise.

Overall though, since being here, safety isn’t something which has really worried me.  Burglaries aside.  There isn’t obvious poverty, there aren’t beggars on the streets, I don’t feel nervous to wear my rings when I walk home late at night.  And almost everyone I’ve met has been kind and wants to make this a real community.  If I have been burgled, or lost a cat, I was immediately inundated with offers of help, it’s a strange feeling given that I am used to – and have grown comfortable with – the London way of being anonymous and leaving each to their own, but here you’re adopted and absorbed. 

And, dare I say, it makes you feel safe.