It’s ‘horses for courses’ isn’t it? When I was a young child, living in a poor area of Sheffield, I had a view from my bedroom windows of Peak District moorland and the more I watched its changing seasons, the more desperately I wanted to go and see it for myself. My mother and father had no interest in “the country” but did relent one day under the weight of my nagging, and we caught the bus to a nearby beauty spot, where, much to my disappointment, we sat and ate sandwiches and then came home! No walking, no scrambling about on the enticing gritstone boulders; just that. They hated it; my mother, especially, found it rather menacing, and they were not alone among their peers in having no preference for it, but had it been a day trip to a garish seaside resort, it would have been me that hated it and they who relished it. I had to wait until my teens when I got out and discovered it’s joys for myself, and I have loved it ever since. It was working class men and women who gave us ‘the right to roam’ with the Kinder trespass, and we should be ever grateful to them, but you can’t force people to love the countryside, no matter their class or ethnic origin, and any amount of tinkering with the landscape isn’t going to change that.
Another Tory MP crosses the floor