City Bumpkins! (a rant)

They're not all from cities, but their behaviour is definitely urban.  And not everyone who lives in a city is one of them. In fact, I think they're in the minority. I call them City Bumpkins.

Their favourite non-urban destinations seem to be festivals or beaches. They can be seen at the Summer Solstice at Stonehenge and anywhere a popular radio station hoists its tents. You can't tell them apart from normal people; their behaviour is hidden by the sheer numbers at the places they choose to visit. Normal people, urban and rural, frown on the City Bumpkins, but what can they do?

Yes, the City Bumpkins arrive. They might even think they are normal. They arrive and they pollute. And then they leave.

You can tell they've been there, though.

Our local TV area includes Glastonbury and Stonehenge, so we get to see not only the main news item, but also the massive clean-up needed afterwards.

It's disgusting.

Druids and New-Age worshippers flock to Stonehenge for the Summer Solstice, and the City Bumpkins arrive with them. They leave behind an ancient field spangled with discarded waste. Stonehenge isn't surrounded by litter bins, you see.  What's the obvious solution? Take your litter home so it doesn't pollute this hallowed site?  Nah! toss it over your shoulder. It must be someone's job to clean up here, right?

City Bumpkins.

Same at Glastonbury Festival.  That was even worse, of course, given the numbers of bumpkins amongst the normal revellers.  It actually looked like a rubbish dump.  And Glastonbury provided skips!  But of course, they paid so much for their ticket it absolutely must be someone else's job to clean up afterwards; never mind the farm animals that die or need surgery after accidentally ingesting some bumpkin jetsam overlooked by the clean-up crew.

Of course, you don't just find City Bumpkins at major national events. Unfortunately they insist on infesting beaches, riversides and areas of outstanding natural beauty (well, it was beautiful when they got there!) whenever the weather permits.  They shove their empty cans into hedgerows amongst the birds nests they don't even realise are there.  They are even known to neatly gather their rubbish into a carrier bag, tie the top, place it on the ground and walk away from it, because it's someone else's job, right? And we're doing them a favour, right? They don't notice the seagulls tearing the bag apart before they even reach their car.

Carrier bags on the beach; what's the problem? Ask the dead dolphins and turtles that thought they were food! Oh, sorry you can't. They're dead.

Oh, there aren't any dolphins here? There doesn't need to be. Litter travels. All the world's sea currents are linked and your carrier bag could travel thousands of miles for decades, before it is no longer deadly.

So, if any City Bumpkins are reading this, GOOD NEWS! Your condition is not terminal (for you, anyway. If you continue it might be terminal for a few farm animals and marine life).  All you need to do to become a normal person is to pop all your litter back into your bag (which you will have with you, because you care) and put it in your own bin at home, or any litter bin that's not already overflowing. Job done. Welcome back to the Human Race.

And finally, to all you normal folk who visit the beaches, countryside and mountains, taking only photographs and leaving behind only footprints, well done!  Perhaps you can share this blog?  I would love my new label for land abusers to gain usage, especially if it gets more City Bumpkins to change their ways.

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