Apparently, we deem it nourishing, life-enhancing, generally a good thing for city kids to connect with modern farming practices. Fair enough, but I was thinking, what about their rural cousins? What do they know of London, who only Shropshire know? Tooting doesn't need a city farm, it needs a place where country kids can come and stay and learn how to survive in the big city. I have an itinerary. Brochure to follow.
For starters they'll learn to get around. Navigating a major London railway terminus without being scooped up and sold into the white meat sex trade; which carriage to board on the Victoria Line to be able to cross straight onto the Northern Line at Stockwell; how to get a black cab driver to go South of the river (clue – offer to let him play his Rod Stewart CD); how to get across London for free by Boris bike; how to negotiate the Oxford Circus scramble without being runover by Japanese tourists.
For main course, they'll forage round the back of Pret A Manger and hunker down in a doorway on the Strand with a sleeping bag and a dog named Bugsy. Come Saturday and the kids will be expected to have manned a street food van round the back of Kings Cross selling soft shell crab in a brioche bun with piri piri sauce at £8.50 without fries, and to have opened up a Mexican themed pop-up restaurant in the Old Street underpass with free graffiti classes and Chris Coco supplying ambient music.
And for dessert they can meet some funny-coloured people. Well, stare at them on the tube...