Today I learned more about the dark underbelly of Cambridge culture. South, heading upstream from Baits Bite Lock, beyond the A14 bridge. The first exit from the towpath back into ‘civilisation’ takes a cut across the fields to Fen Road.
Its an innocent looking road on the map, isn’t it? But no, that is not the whole story. This is farmland that has now been turned over the mobile homes. Not the kind of mobile home a nice family of four rent for a week over summer, these are real homes, people lived crammed into these things.
“Vacant plot” “Loose dogs” Trailer trash.
Now, thats OK, its not a lifestyle for me, but I can understand that it probably works for some people. What amazed me, though, was the creativity of some of these people – walking back toward town the class of the places went up, they started looking somewhat more permanent, people would actually both cleaning the outside of their vans. But then, there are places where they’ve bricked over the outsides of the trailers, so they’re kinda like houses, except they are entirely the wrong shape. Then, further, there is a small fenced community, a suite of three bricked trailers behind eight foot iron fencing that looked like it cost more than the place it was protecting. But then, I’m guessing the SLK in the drive was worth more than half the estate anyway so maybe they needed the iron.
It didn’t feel unsafe there, even given the latent intolerance oozing from all directions, just not my England. And it makes me think – if I feel disenfranchised from this country, I wonder how some of these people feel about it?
Further into town, through the dodgy industrial estate where they refit stolen motorbikes with new identities, and sell on office furniture they found in the skip, over the railway and on to Green End Road. And thats when it all starts making sense. I’m back on my territory again. I’m home. For what its worth.
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