“‘Cause there’s a beach lies quiet near the open sea,
And a car park lay stretched where the bindies used to be”
Midnight Oil, ‘Bells and horns in the back of beyond.’
Made the mistake of trying to visit where my grandparents’ old house used to be. Their sprawling front lawn had no fence and ran down to a quiet beach, via a thicket of glossy banana trees and spiky weeds. It was permanently festooned with strings of coloured lights for summer parties that lasted all night. All gone now, replaced by a tight-packed chunder of Mac Mansions that look like oversized photo copiers. One of the gardeners looked up from vacuuming (yes, vacuuming) his hanky-sized lawn and told me I had no business being there. He was righter than he knew.