Hatfield is odd

I went to Hatfield on the weekend and there are things about it that are just not quite right. For a start, it is one of those places that are hard to get to, and even more difficult to leave. There are still people driving around there desperately trying to get back to London who have been there since the seventies. There were roundabouts everywhere and loads of weird contra flows. One diagram of a particularly strange road layout looked like 2 penises jousting and was surely the result of a bet between disinterested council workers. I found myself nearly crashing loads of times. There are just oodles roads there, with nothing of note at the end of them save a few curiously stunted buildings dotted around like an afterthought. It's like the architects had envisioned grand skyscrapers with large footprints but then realised that they were in Hertfordshire and that not enough people would utilise them, so they built the first couple of floors and then gave up.

It unashamedly tries to proclaim itself as some sort of gateway to London but is not. There is not really much there. It's like the whole area was built for a significant world event in the 1960's which was subsequently cancelled. The topography is flat and featureless - the greys of the skies blending seamlessly with the edifices of the uninspiring buildings and the local inhabitant's hopeless faces. The hotel I was at desperately heralded itself as a 'great place for visitors from the north to come if they want to go to London'. Surely just going to London itself would be easier than stopping 50 miles short, staying in a concrete mausoleum and boarding a shockingly expensive and infrequent train to King's Cross. And imagine if your first experience of London was King's cross. You'd just want to turn around and go home before you captured some airborne parasite from one of the many prostitutes or down-and-outs.

We went to a farm at Hatfield house. It was like most farms that I have seen except practically all of the animals were fighting each other. They obviously felt the same sentiments towards the place that I did, and seeing as they couldn't 'flight', 'fight' was the only option open to them. There was a bunch of retarded ducks with giant bouffant hairstyles. They looked like they had been made by some local prankster to achieve placement in a Ripley's 'Believe it or not' exhibition. They were fighting with smaller ducks, bigger ducks, goose-type things and themselves - obviously dimly aware that they were abominations who had no right to exist. There was a very surly sow who had about 14 piglets who seemed to resent them seeing as the dad had sensibly buggered off. She proceeded to use her snout and feet to basically give them all a good thrashing for no apparent reason. Their alarmed whelping and squealing only made her more cross so she stepped it up a gear by trying to propel one of them into the electric fencing.

There was also a variety of odd-looking chickens who had apparently had testicles grafted onto their chins, who made their displeasure known by stomping on each others heads. And then I spotted a large group of what looked like midget black rams which had left their enclosure and were just wandering around until they saw me, at which point they menacingly started to run in my direction at great speed. I thought were going to charge at me, and I was calculating in my head what my chances were against an enraged flock of Satan's emissaries. Could I avoid them all with one swift jump, or was I better off going on the offensive and trying to kick them in the head? Could I pick one up and throw it at the others, or brandish it as a grunting, snarling club as I beat its contemporaries to death? Thankfully they ducked back under what must be the most useless gate ever made, since they could come and go at will.

But at least the farm animals of Hatfield house had been interesting. In fact, If I was responsible for bringing tourism to that godforsaken part of the world, I would actively encourage more genetic mutation and grow the farm into some kind of gladiatorial arena, where various affronts to god would fight to the death. Now,that would be worth visiting.

1 comment:

  1. Probably your most boring piece yet...
    didn't even make me smile.

    losing your touch?

    - Big Les.