National Trust Abuse Not Restricted to Studland Nudists
June 1999
Our cartoonist Ricky writes:
Dear SUN,
On Monday 15 March 1999, en route to Bristol, I decided to have a look at
Stonehenge. Although this has nothing to do with nudists or Studland, it has one
thing in common: the National Trust. The morning proved so interesting as an
exercise in observation, I really must tell you about it.
I remember around thirty years ago, when I was able to wander casually around
Stonehenge, strolling quietly through the stones, touching them and getting a
real feel of the site and its mysteries, in the wider landscape of the
unrestricted open spaces of Salisbury Plain.
How things have changed! A huge vehicle park on the opposite side of the
road, with all the usual National Trust trimmings. To cross over the road to the
stones, you have the choice of paying the National Trust by going through the regimented
turnstiles and under the road by the subway, or walking across the road. Should
you choose the latter option, a bright yellow official looking (National Trust) sign warns
you "The police advise you to use the subway as the road is dangerous to
cross". The authoritative word "police' could strike fear into the
hearts of more timid visitors - which is probably the National Trust's intention!
Damn it, I thought. Not wishing to line the pockets of the National Trust in
any way with my money, I decided to do a "Watership Down" and walk
across the road for free. Remembering my Highway Code, I looked right, left and
right again and arrived safely on the other side.
It was immediately obvious that Stonehenge had become part of the behemothian
National Trust empire. With a six foot high mesh fencing perimeter enclosing a
network of catwalks and tarmac paths, it looked like Monkey World. I had just
finished videoing the view through the wire mesh, when I heard a loud gruff
voice say "What do you think this is?" It was a khaki-clad (ex-army?)
male inside the fence, pointing at the catwalk. He and his similarly clothed
colleague were addressing, and looking threateningly at, two women who, I found
out afterwards, were two German tourists who had had the temerity to stray off
the path into the forbidden zone and had dared to touch one of the stones.
"If you do not keep to the path, you will be removed from the area"
shouted the National Trust official, speaking to them as if to a couple of naughty kids. It
all sounded very familiar to me: were these cloned wardens from the Studland
flock?
Walking along outside the confining fence, I spoke loudly enough for all to
hear, telling the two women how nice it had been before the National Trust
acquired Stonehenge for their own use. With a couple of jokes about fascists
(although, unlike Basil Fawlty, I didn't mention the war!), I managed to coax
smiles back onto the faces of the tourists.
So there you have it: whatever National Trust management say, it is clear that the rude
and offensive manner of some wardens is widespread and not directed solely at
Studland nudists who do not want to stay penned within the red posts. That is,
however, little comfort to us. As for Public Relations, this is another nail in
the National Trust coffin, although I doubt if there is room to bang many more in. I only
wish I had kept my camcorder running; what a wonderful negotiating weapon the
tape could have been for the Studland United Nudists team fighting to return our
area to its former glory. Another time, perhaps?
Ricky
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