Tag: litter

Be the change

Two 2 litre water bottles

1 500ml water bottle

1 energy drink can

1 beer can

2 metal bottle tops

1 plastic bottle tops

1 plastic straw

Cellophane

1 snack wrapper

2 sweet wrappers

Various corners of snack wrappers

All of the above was found on my 2 hour hike today and I didn’t have to stray from the path I was on to see it all.

Yes folks, today isn’t going to be a happy go lucky travel piece. It’s on the odd occasion I will find the need to relay my frustrations at the human race. Now let’s not pretend I’ve been a saint and recycled all my life and not dropped the odd piece of litter (accidentally). But in this day and age I’m wondering why it is actually found to be so hard to do our bit. By no measure is the above list of litter big in comparison to motorways where rubbish is thrown so freely from a passing car or a farmers field where flytipping is prominent. Those are particular breeds of humans that lack the caring that most people do have. The litter today was discarded by people who have taken the time to visit a beauty spot in Northumberland National Park. It wasn’t an adventure park or a child’s play area. It is a moderately challenging hiking area and it isn’t a thorough fare. You do the walk, reach the end and turn back. You have to choose to do this. Which means you want to. In wanting to it means you find an appeal. The appeal in nature and all its beauties. 

The hike was to Hareshaw Linn in Bellingham. It is an astounding place which on a sunny day could have been lifted straight from Costa Rica. Its dappled shade, enclosed spaces and the area’s ability to rain on and off in continuous sunshine has created a microclimate where birds, ferns and flowing water all exist harmoniously. The most brilliant path winds through the greenery as you head along the trail. 6 bridges criss-cross you over the river as it bubbles and crashes its way over rocks, pebbles and magnificent boulders. It is a splendid walk. At the end you are met with a 30 foot masterpiece of water and rock. The rock is black with moisture and the water is white with the pace it has found. It plunges into a deep but small pool where it meets rock and continues on its way. 

On arrival today we were shocked to see that an equally tall tree had taken the plunge into the pool from the shelf above. The devastation was immediately evident as half of the waterfall was hidden from view. Having visited this place last year, Mr W and I thanked our lucky stars we had a ‘before image’ in our memories for this place. We spent a good hour watching the water from its adjacent cave as dog walkers and families came along the path. This place screams serenity. As you do with time, I started to notice the smaller parts of my surroundings: the pieces of litter in the rocks around the pool. 

It got me thinking about the damage we do to this planet. Not really seeing how it affects the places we visit. The beauty feels tainted when a plastic bottle floats alongside nature’s majesty. It was only when someone viewing the falls said that it was ‘such a shame the tree is ruining the view’ that I realised how fragile we are in nature’s grip. If we can look at a tree that has been blown down by a strong wind and call it a misfortune while stepping over a discarded sweet wrapper, are we hypocrites? Aren’t we the wind in that situation? We, the human race, are destroying nature by littering so carelessly. 

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, we are guests on this planet and should have learned plenty from the last two years: to care for this planet and thrive in its stead. For there may come a day, when like that tree, a wind blows up with its mighty power and decides our roots no longer play a part in our standing. It will blow us down the river, unwanted and discarded. 

We are not the wind. 

We are not the power. 

We can be the change we want to see in the world. 

One step at a time. 

One thought given.

Many possibilities. 

Are we the virus?

“Take only memories, leave only footprints.” – Chief Seattle

It will always be apparent to the travellers of this world, that a photo can only tell you so much about a place. You see idyllic beaches in the Caribbean, pure white sand and crystal clear waters. It may shock you when you visit that the odd plastic bottle or crisp packet ruins your expectation. In many places, there are staff that go to the beaches at ungodly hours and rake up the debris from the surfs kiss upon the shore. We see all too often the capabilities of people on this planet. 

During lockdown in England, there were unprecedented numbers of visitors to beaches and parks. Not having to be at work and the fantastic sunshine that shone during the months of May and June in 2020, saw the restrictions of meeting outside well and truly met. The carnage left behind was devastating. Tonnes of litter left behind like never before. It was like the earth had had its breather while we were locked away in doors and this was our chance to do double the damage. 

There have been several news items in recent years about how overrun tourists spots have been in the UK since 2020. When lifting restrictions meant we could exercise outside for an hour daily, Snowden was overrun despite many people living more than an hour away. It was a clear example of give and inch and take a mile. 

Even now, in 2022, there are articles about the UK experiencing its highest level of domestic tourism for decades. We are two people who never really travelled the UK, before covid, I will put my hands up to that. If it weren’t for all the confusion about what country needs what test and form wise, I’m sure we would have planned a trip abroad. There is also the highly stressful experience of having to cancel and rebook a trip in 2020. (See my ‘Reclaming a sunset’ blog.) I’m grateful in a way to how much our travel perspective has changed. We always used to lean towards city breaks, with the vast cacophony of noises, people and culture, we thought we were getting all that place had to give. It wasn’t until we took a trip to Edinburgh and Northumberland in late 2021 that our vision was altered. We spent two days wandering to waterfalls and hiking the hills and we found rewards like we hadn’t before. The peace of it all, the personal pride of achieving new feats of exertion and the slower pace that we needed to heal.

Being in Northumberland felt like we were the first to discover new areas, the forests were empty and the hills were silent. None of this overrun business. And yet there was a time that all had to change. As I said, our tastes have changed, and I’m not saying we’d never been to the countryside, but given the choice we’d choose a day in London over hiking. Now it’s more, let’s get into the city at 5am, see it at its emptiest and leave by noon. Venice taught us that a city is at its most beautiful without its crowds. We’d done it before in London, purely from a photography point of view, but there is something in being the only one wandering the Thames at sunrise. 

This past weekend we went to a local forest to see the blooming bluebells. Despite their annual appearance this was my first time seeing their exuberance in such an enormous way. Walking amongst them felt like being in a dreamscape. The colours, the life and the sheer volume of nature’s power screamed out in the silence of the forest. I noticed that several paths had been trodden through the bluebells, their stamped on stems laying squashed underfoot, it was a big shame. When we returned to the car parks, I noticed a lot of signs asking people to keep to the pathways to avoid ruining the plants. It made me sad. 

Returning to Northumberland this year is a big deal for us, we just don’t do it. How can you see the world if you return to the same place twice? We have a select few places we’ll return to out of comfort and it seems Northumberland is one of those for the time being. It is one of those places that when you find one of its hidden secrets, it whispers to you another one. 

On the coast, and our first taste of Northumberland, stands Bamburgh Castle. Surprisingly, in early August it was unexpectedly quiet. We parked without problem, and walked the beach without disturbing towels or sandcastles. It’s been said this week that Bamburgh is 2022’s most visited UK town. We’re trendsetters don’t-cha-know! 

With its absolutely enormous beach and stunning castle backdrop it comes as no surprise. 

However, locals have found the sudden infamy problematic. Vehicles parked up on grass verges due to car parks hitting their capacity, litter and disruption not far behind. It’s certainly a turn of events, but not one that can cause shock. It’s saddening for sure. But shocking? No. I’m sure there are people that profit from such large numbers of tourists, it isn’t all bad, it never is, since when did news articles give both sides of the story. 

It would be wise to remember the world continued turning, the oceans continued crashing to the clean shores and the bluebells thrived during lockdown. We are the virus the world does not need, these beautiful places are a gift and should be treated as such. If we wish to arrive in paradise we need to do our bit. Pick up our litter. Stick to the path. Take only memories. And if you should leave footprints, be respectful of what’s underfoot. Paradise takes a lifetime to build and only moments to disappear. 

Well, wasn’t that a cheerful post, come back next time for something lighter!