[Ann Drysdale]

John, that reminds me of a previous life wherein I was part of something called The Highball Scheme which took kids from the inner city areas of Birmingham (Highgate and Balsall Heath) out into the nearby countryside for camping weekends. The group mood flitted, time after time, like a kineograph from studied boredom through real fear (Wossat?" "It's just an owl." "I know miss, but oo's 'owlin'?) to giddy joy and homeward singing in the minibus.

Those were the days - and probably the basis of my entry...

[John Whitworth]

It was culled from my daughter Katie who took children from Edmonton out towards the wilds of the M25. Cows and chickens alike were unknown to them. Also shoplessness. I was working on a stanza about everyday countryfolk stomping about with guns and wellies looking for something to shoot but I hadn't the room.

By the way, couldn't the Country refer to another country, say France, where they eat unmentionable things and piss out on the street (well they used to)?

[Jerome Betts]

Yes, I was wondering about that, John, You go to a foreign part for the first time and you don't see the country itself, you see a different one called Not-England. Same in reverse with foreign students studying here. I think I know Not-Switzerland and Not-Japan quite well by now,

[Ann Drysdale]

Indeed, John. Though my own experience of my first trip to France was along these lines... http://shitcreek.auszine.com/issue10...-or-reliquary/

[John Whitworth]

Quite lovely, Ann. I went to Paris when I was twenty (not actually my first time but this is poetry i.e. lying). I have part of a poem about it. Perhaps sixteen lines could be salvaged.