EXTRACT: Orkney Island, Scotland …..The shoreline was now strewn with rubbish; not just newspapers and carrier bags, but rusting tin drums and petrol containers. I walked for a further mile along this stretch, hoping that this threat to Orkney’s natural beauty would soon recede. In the distance I could see a farmhouse at the top of some fields. I stopped by a burnt out car and viewed the building through my binoculars. I could see a man and three children coming down the hillside from the farmhouse, heading towards the shoreline. I carried on walking, hoping that our paths would cross, just so that I could pass on my observation that it must be infuriating to have their splendid view of the sea spoiled by environmental vandals. They were wheeling a couple of carts down the slope and descended to sea level. I looked through my binoculars again. It was all hands on deck for the family from the house on the hill, as they set about emptying the carts of corroding metallic drums and other debris, and hurling this junk onto the shore.
(Continued).
In full, see My Beating Heart – An Orkney Travel Tale
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