I downloaded a couple of shows recently that jogged the old memory banks. They were both about the south west of England and Cornwall in particular. In one, Richard Wilson takes a road trip down the A30 coast road and in the other  historian David Heathcote explores Cornwall with one of the old Shell Guides. I thought David Heathcote’s was the more entertaining of the two, particularly as he covered parts of Cornwall we know very well. He was particularly scathing of Padstow (or Padstein as it’s more commonly known) and the fact that you stand more chance of winning the lottery than finding a car park space there. Was nice seeing the Camel Estuary and Rock, because we went on a sailing course there once – learning to drive those little Mirror dinghies you always see.

One moment did tickle me though. Heathcote drove down to Polzeath beach, a place he hadn’t visited in more than 20 years, to see if it had changed. The general upshot was that it hadn’t really changed much in that time, but what made me giggle was all the surfers, in full steamer wetsuits, hats and gloves, wandering down to the water with their surfboards. I love Cornwall, but that side of surfing in the UK truly sucks. I suddenly remembered those winter surfs off Fistral or Crantock when your head gets ice-cream freeze and pissing in your wetsuit to warm up is a necessity. Don’t get me wrong, it cools off here too, but never *that* cold.

After my wander down memory lane I was galvanised to go and read an online Cornish newspaper to see what was concerning people down there. The first story that caught my eye was very interesting to me – it was about a graffiti protest by locals against second homes. The story mentions a case in which a jetty which would have helped local fisherman, was denied planning permission after high court action from second home-owners. It also mentions the village of Worth Matravers where a staggering 60% of the homes are holiday houses – the place is now referred to as a Ghost Village.

The reason all this interests me is that prior to the Australian ‘thing’ we’d planned to go and live in Cornwall. Not as second home owners, but actual residents. However thanks to the demand for second homes and the (then) booming housing market, the best we could have afforded was a pokey ex council house on the outskirts of Truro, which wasn’t exactly our idea of living the Cornish dream. I genuinely believe that the second home issue is a scandal that needs legislating against. I also strongly believe that affordable social housing should be made available to young locals who will stay and raise a family in the area.

The other story that piqued my interest was this one, about the phenomenon of people discarding dog shit in plastic bags. I’ve mentioned this before in my blog because we used to see it all the time on the popular dog walks where we used to live in the Cotswolds. I just have no idea what people are thinking. I mean, if you don’t want to pick up your dog’s shit, then just leave it there and someone will tread in it and distribute it down the track or nature will take care of it. If you do want to pick it up, then deposit your bag of shit in a dog bin. But don’t pick up the shit and then tie the bag to a fence or hang it from a bush. I mean, am I missing something here? Are the bags actually a signal to others that there’s some dogging to be had nearby? What on earth are they thinking? They do the right thing by picking up their dog’s shite – and then they litter the countryside they presumably love with neatly tied baggies of shit. Just utterly bizarre. Dog shit and, indeed dog shit in plastic bags hanging from fences, is not something I have to contend with any longer here. I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw some shite on the pavement.

Remember this?

I was reminded of that when I read this story. I guess the more things change, the more they stay the same.