Close to the burnt out school I showed the other day is a patch of grass with a few trees and bushes growing on it. They can't build houses on this land on account of the Cottingham Drain running right underneath it. Twenty or so years ago when I used to live in these parts the place was a scruffy dumping ground for fly-tippers and you'd see the occasional wino making his peace with the world. There was a strange bridge that didn't cross anything since the drain had been culverted decades earlier. There'd be weird tyre tracks where joy riders had obviously been having fun. Oh and every November fifth there'd be an almighty bonfire, often two or three leaving scorch marks that didn't really heal 'til the next November. Anyhow now it's become a play area with goalposts for football (that's posh!) and so on and proper seats for the winos and druggies so they don't get their trousers dirty .... and tolerated graffiti. The strange bridge has finally gone. The posts you can see are to stop twockers using the place as a short cut (spoilsports). Oh and the fly-tipping is still a local hazard.