Way of theworld Michael Deacon
Of course, I knew it would turn out like this. And it’s all Tony Blair’s fault. As I wrote in Way of the World a couple of weeks ago, New Labour’s decision to ban fox hunting caused great bitterness throughout the English countryside. And, as I explained in the column, all this bitterness could have been avoided – if only Mr Blair had offered rural communities a sensible compromise.
In short: you may no longer hunt foxes. But instead, you can hunt ramblers.
Not only would this proposal have helped to preserve the ancient tradition of hunting with dogs, it would also have helped to control the number of ramblers. Owing to New Labour’s lamentable lack of vision, however, this opportunity was missed. And now we see the inevitable results. Ramblers are growing in number. And their demands are becoming ever more vocal.
Over the weekend, Right to Roam – the ramblers’ lobby group – staged a mass trespass through private woodlands owned by the Duke of Somerset. As one participant explained to Britain’s biggest rambling publication,
The Guardian, their demonstration was entirely peaceful. They simply want the land to be opened up to ramblers, instead of just being used by aristocrats for pheasant shoots.
Or, in the words of the group’s impassioned chant: “Less room for pheasants, more room for peasants!” Now, I have no wish to take sides in this battle. I have no dog in the fight. I am neither a rambler nor a duke. My worry, however, is that the conflict could escalate. I fear reprisals. Because, if we urbanites keep invading aristocrats’ private property, the aristocrats may seek revenge – by invading our private property. The last thing I want to see, when I draw back my curtains in the morning, is an army of dukes and duchesses marching through my garden in wellington boots, kicking over my pot plants, trampling my buddleja, and stuffing empty crisp packets into my privet hedge.
I could of course go outside, crossly rebuke them and order them off my land. But I know perfectly well what they’d say in reply. “We’re ramblers!” they would bark. “We have every right to be here! Urban private land should be thrown open to all, so that it can be enjoyed not only by metropolitan elitists like you, but by ordinary, humble aristocrats like us!”
And then up and down my patio they would march, chanting as they went.
“Less room for the masses, more for the upper classes! Less room for plebs, more room for debs! Less room for slobs, more room for nobs!”
I do hope that Right to Roam will see sense. Otherwise I fear that the lawns of suburbia may never recover.
Energy bills are expensive enough as it is. But in less than six months, they’ll be absolutely eye-watering. The chief executive of one major energy company has warned the public that in October our bills could rise by another £1,000.
It’s terrifying. Forget gas and electricity. We might as well keep warm by making a big pile of £10 notes in the middle of the floor, and setting fire to it. It would probably be cheaper.
At any rate, the next surge in prices is bound to do a lot of damage. And not just to our bank balances. It could well end up having a radical effect on the property market, too.
After all, it’s much more expensive to heat a large property than it is to heat a small one. In a desperate attempt to save money, therefore, many struggling homeowners may decide to downsize.
Inevitably, though, the growing demand for small properties will mean that their prices soar. And at the same time, the falling demand for large properties will mean that their prices plummet. Which will swiftly lead to total chaos.
Just wait. Within weeks, a broom cupboard in Hull will go on the market at £12 million, while a castle in Durham is listed at 50p plus a packet of Wotsits. Middle-class families in Islington will pray that their four-storey townhouse sells for enough money to buy them a bedsit. Young couples will complain that they can only afford a 15-bedroom country mansion with its own stables and swimming pool, because they can’t scrape together the deposit for a one-bed flat.
Still, at least estate agents should be happy. The chaos will certainly keep them in work. Then again, they too will have to adapt to the changing market.
“As you can see, Mr and Mrs Smith, this bungalow is already wonderfully cramped. But there’s potential to make it pokier still. You could easily demolish the lounge and the spare bedroom. In fact, why not knock down the whole house, and just live in the garage instead.”