I’ll never refuse a trip to the tip. Other than the pub, it’s one of my favourite places
ONE of the household chores I’ve never really found tiresome is going to the tip. Loading the dishwasher, vacuuming, dusting, gardening or putting the bins out, I find horribly monotonous and I’d honestly rather be watching something hideous on TV like Love Island or Benidorm or something.
But if the wife complains we’re getting overrun with cardboard, or if a toaster dies and needs binning, I’ll be loading up the car quicker than you can say “reality TV”.
Perhaps part of my love affair with our local recycling centre stems from the many times I used to accompany my grandfather to his local facility. He had a big garden and frequently bagged up hedge clippings and bits of old buddleia and dropped them off at the tip, just a few miles from his house in Nottingham.
He’d let me sit in the front of his Ford Granada for the journey, which was a real treat in itself and, when we got to the tip, he’d have some gloves ready for me to put on, and he’d pick out some light bags for me to carry and I’d take great delight in hurling them into the abyss.
For a 10-year-old boy, this was a genuinely valuable bit of grandad/ grandson bonding time, and nothing made me feel more grown-up and manly than donning those enormous gloves and wielding a heavy bag of leaves over the side of a skip.
In between trips to the boot of his car I’d marvel at the weird and wonderful array of things that were being discarded by fellow tip-goers.
From washing machines and vacuum cleaners, to old toilets and window frames that made a fabulous smashing sound as they hit the bottom of the skip, it was a place of wonder, for some reason.
We’re very lucky in Derbyshire. We’ve got some brilliant recycling centres. My local one, in Ashbourne, might just be one of my favourite haunts, other than my local pub.
Nostalgia aside, there’s something endlessly satisfying about arriving with a boot full of rubbish – it’s usually cardboard in my case – and watching it all vanish from the car as you walk up and down the ramp a few times, knowing there’s no longer a pile of boxes cluttering your house.
Derbyshire County Council is running a survey at the moment, asking us what we think of our waste recycling centres. And of course, I’ve filled mine in.
I found it hard to mark them down. Ashbourne’s tip is well kept, well organised, the staff are incredibly friendly and helpful, and everything just works. The only problem I could come up with for the survey was the jarring speed bumps on the way in.
And, in all honesty, they’re really not that bad.
Even throughout the pandemic, when staff weren’t able to help you carry things, when parking was like a game of draughts, and when large queues often formed, my local facility was brilliantly run, well-staffed and fully Covid-secure. We’re very lucky to have such a great service on our doorsteps. I haven’t been to the tip for a while. Largely because now that the lockdown has ended I’m ordering fewer items online and we’re going to the shops more, so I haven’t got such a large pile of Amazon boxes piling up.
But on the odd occasion we do have some cardboard to chuck, I’m piling it up in a corner of a passageway, and waiting until I’ve got enough hoarded to justify a trip to the tip.
To be honest, I could probably fold it all up small enough to fit in my wheelie bin. But that would deny me the nice little half-hour escape I’m planning in a week or two. And I know it sounds sad, but I’m already looking forward to it.
There’s something endlessly satisfying about arriving with a boot full of rubbish and watching it all vanish from the car.