Nobbut Laiking, by Ross Brewster
In the Netherlands, the rural folk woke up one day and decided they’d had enough of being told how to look after their livestock and their land.
Their pitchfork army, a new political party, stood for election for seats on regional bodies and swept the board. “Nobody can ignore us now,” said their leader, Caroline Van Den Plas.
These are local elections, but the message to the ruling party went out loud and clear, push us too far and we will strike back.
I don’t know whether we Cumbrians have that sort of resolve. Maybe we are, in character, more phlegmatic.
But one thing I greatly resent is when areas like the Lake District become the subject of some academic or eco-journalistic experiment.
Farmers feel they are taken for granted by the wider population and, already bound up in red tape, they are having revolutionary ideas about the removal of sheep from the fells and a re-wilding exercise thrust upon them without anyone seriously taking their views into account.
Pressure from the eco lobby is growing by the day and, of course, there’s no denying that the planet is already facing the impact of climate change in different parts of the world.
But this is not just about climate change. It’s the result of fashionable studies, probably drawn up by men and women behind desks who may enjoy a fell walk, but have never trodden the hills winter and summer, in all weathers, to earn a living.
This sudden urge to re-introduce animal species. Well, the day they take Herdwicks off the hills and replace them with wolves is the day we may as well lock up the Lake District and hand the place over to the intellectuals with their clever new ideas.
The Dutch farmers say government policies are unbalanced against them. It appears they are garnering public support.
Meanwhile we have voices like Ben Goldsmith, a former Defra adviser, who, speaking from his 300,000 acre Somerset estate, tweets that sheep must go from our fellsides. Little does Harry the Herdwick realise, as he quietly grazes, that he’s standing in the way of meaningful nature recovery in national parks and marginal landscapes.
In the Netherlands they would be taking up arms, metaphorically, against such opinions. Our Sheep Twitter Fan Club which Mr Goldsmith cheekily compares to Meghan Markle’s twitterati — “enthusiastic and a little bonkers” — may be less politically organised.
It’s ironic that it has taken a controversial TV personality to bring the hard reality of farming before the British viewing public. Jeremy Clarkson’s programmes have shown just how relentless the work is and how multi-tasking farmers have to be.
Anyone doubting the value of its people and its animals, should give a second viewing to Simon Reeve’s excellent The Lakes series, made for the BBC. It was a programme that got under the skin and into the soul.
The young lad working his socks off to get a start in farming; the hard-bitten man and his Fell ponies. You would think twice, then think again, before destroying such a magnificent tradition.
Welcome to the Lake District, now pay up
A tenner tourist tax. You’re joking.
Or are you? An “activist” holiday company — no, I don’t get that, is it for people who glue themselves to motorways and Scafell Pike — claims there is a groundswell of opinion in favour of taxing visitors to areas like the Lake District.
We all know the saying about statistics. This lot’s stats are definitely flawed. They asked 700 people on their mailing list if they approved of a tax. Naturally most said yes.
Preaching to the converted. A bit like surveying Carlisle United season ticket holders on which team they support.
If Responsible Travel insist on tax I’ve got the answer to how they extract the money. You’ve seen Peaky Blinders on TV. We could have razor gangs nicking tourists’ wallets under the guise of Peak Blinders.
Help us to repair a footpath or else. And welcome to the Lake District.
Hope for oldies everywhere
Things are looking up for us oldies.
I sometimes get a bit depressed at the prospect of being even older than I am now. But then along comes Rupert Murdoch, engaged for the fifth time aged 92. There’s hope for even the most arthritic of us.
Next a Premier League side, Crystal Palace, turns to 75-year-old Roy Hodgson to manage until the end of the season.
Add in all the Oscars winners over 50 and over 60 and it shows we ain’t done yet.
Mind you, I bet schoolkids still think their teachers, who are probably in their 30s, are darned near drawing their old age pensions. I know we did.
Lost in a good book
Don’t you just love a discovery.
I found, by indirect recommendation, a delightful little novel this week, written by a former headteacher called J L Carr.
How Steeple Sinderby Wanderers Won the FA Cup is about a village football team with great ambitions, but much more than that it is a poignant tale about post-war rural life in England.
Mr Carr did not begin writing novels until his 50s. Go and find him before all the Herdwicks have left the fells forever.
