Expat Interview: Annie and Murdoch Thread the Needle

After leaving London and raising a family in New York, two lifelong travelers find their happy place under the Yucatecan sun

With Murdoch Morrison and Annie Walwyn-Jones, stories unfold as naturally as a conversation over tea. Their life together spans decades, cities, and countries, woven with unexpected turns that have ultimately led them to a new chapter in Mérida.

“I came to New York in 1975,” Murdoch begins, a faint smile crossing his face as he reflects on the move from London, “It was an escape from England, really — from the coal strikes and the economic chaos of the early ’70s.” 

New York offered something different, a place where Murdoch could reconnect with his American roots and carve out his path. 

“My mother was American, so getting a green card wasn’t too difficult,” he says. “I just needed better career opportunities and a change of scene. But, really, I’m a bit of a mongrel — a mix of American and British with a smattering of everything in between.”

With a characteristic blend of humor and candor, Annie shares her origins as well. “I was born in London and sent to boarding school when I was young. I think my brother and I were more like ‘tokens of fertility’ to our parents,” she says, half-wincing at the thought. 

After boarding school, Annie was uncertain about her future. 

“I wanted to be a lawyer, but my memory was terrible,” she recalls. Instead, her parents sent her to Florence and the Loire Valley in hopes of “polishing” her. 

“I think they were trying to make me marriageable,” she jokes. “It was an odd time back then. Where we came from, if you weren’t off to Oxford or Cambridge, you were off to secretarial school or flower-arranging classes.”
Their lives finally intersected in New York, though they had shared mutual friends and even attended the same events in England.

“We’d seen each other in passing,” Murdoch says, “but we didn’t really meet until a cocktail party in New York.”

Their friendship evolved slowly, merging into a partnership that took on a new depth with time. “We bought a loft, had children, and lived in Manhattan for 49 years.”

Both excitement and eventual disillusionment marked their long Manhattan chapter. 

“I worked in structured finance — the reason for the last big crash, they’d say now,” Murdoch muses. But over time, the Wall Street grind lost its appeal. “We started spending more and more time at our place in upstate New York and then started to look south, especially as January and February became harder and harder to face.”

Annie nods, adding, “We tried everything. We went to Sicily, Morocco — anywhere warm, really — but it just didn’t feel right.”

Eventually, they found themselves on the Yucatán Peninsula, which they had visited with their children in the early ’90s. 

“We’d come down with the kids,” Annie remembers, “and the place just had this faded grandeur — these beautiful, crumbling buildings, so much history.” Murdoch continues, “In 2014, we thought, ‘Why not try staying here for the winter?’ It was warm, welcoming, and, frankly, affordable.” The couple began visiting regularly, renting houses each winter. “After a few years of this, I thought, why don’t we find a place of our own?” Murdoch says, and soon they were house-hunting in Mérida.

Despite the promise of a peaceful retirement, the process was anything but smooth after an initial “architect disaster,” Murdoch recalls. Our builders came to us and told us that the Centro house — typical in that it is constructed up to the edge of the property line — was designed three meters short of the actual length of the lot. 

“We had to bring in a tape measure ourselves to prove it,” Annie says. With frustrations mounting, they took the reins to bring their vision of a light-filled, open home to life. The house they created reflects their long journey — a space filled with memories, heirlooms, and stories. “It’s funny,” Murdoch says, “how people who visit can recognize things from our New York loft or the house in the country. It’s like a map of our lives.” 
The portraits on the walls, the grandfather clock and its soft, intermittent chimes, even the dining chairs — each piece holds meaning. 

“Those Tibetan tables are from Murdoch’s family, and the corner cabinets are from my parents’ home in London,” Annie says, gesturing around. “We’ve always carried pieces with us. This home here is no exception.”
One of the most meaningful aspects of their Mérida life is their work with the local community. Annie and Murdoch became involved with a local refuge for young men in addiction recovery, where they introduced embroidery as a therapeutic activity. 

“At first, I thought, ‘embroidery? For a group of 20-something men?’ ” Murdoch admits, “But they took to it instantly. Some of them are really talented. It’s calming for them, I think. It has this way of focusing your mind. It’s very different from knitting — you can’t just drift off. It takes all of your attention.” 

Seeing the young men dive into the work, Annie feels they have found a rhythm. “They’re proud of what they create, and that’s what matters,” she says. “We try not to push our own tastes on them, though I can’t help suggesting they try something other than anime characters now and then!” 

Murdoch acknowledges the importance of staying active in retirement. 

“I think you need to fill your time meaningfully,” he says. “Some people buy houses to flip, but that’s never appealed to us. Working with the shelter, helping the boys with their embroidery — these things feel important.” 

Annie agrees, adding, “It’s funny. We made cookies for them each week, but now they’re so focused on their embroidery that they don’t even stop for cookies until they have finished!”

“We’ve lived through our fair share of places,” Murdoch says, “but this one feels right for now.”
Annie smiles in agreement, casting a thoughtful look around the room that holds so many pieces of their journey together. 

“You just have to embrace what life offers and find joy in it, no matter where you end up,” Annie says.