The area around Dungeon Lane near Speke, Liverpool, which was such an inspiration for Paul McCartney (‘I can gauge John’s reaction: that’s good, stick that in’: Paul McCartney on how old bandmates – and Oasis – inspired his nostalgic new album, 29 May), provides a good example of what is happening to our green spaces and natural habitats. In 2019, in spite of local protests, Dungeon Lane was closed permanently, when the perimeter fence of Liverpool airport was extended.
Landowners are obstructing traditional rights of way. The use of pesticides has reduced the numbers of butterflies and bees. The coastal path has fallen into disrepair. Aircraft exhaust fumes pollute the air. Shamefully, it has been left to voluntary organisations – such as Save Oglet Shore – and academics to monitor this crisis. Research by Liverpool John Moores University has exposed the extraordinary build-up of Pfas (forever chemicals) on the shore.
The Liverpool airport master plan envisages substantial construction in the area. Statutory regulators and semi‑state environmental agencies have offered no effective remedies. This beautiful little haven – designated as a wetland site of international importance – is home to small mammals, bats, butterflies and thousands of wading birds and geese. It provides precious access to green space for locals, with positive outcomes for both physical and mental health. Yet its very survival is now in jeopardy.
The tragedy is that this is a situation repeated in numerous small green spaces around Britain, combining to magnify the steady decline of natural habitat and green space across the country. It is a question that we as a nation must urgently address.
Greg Quiery
Liverpool
I lived in Oldbridge Road in Speke in the late 1950s and 60s, when the short walk down Dungeon Lane and the steep slope down to Oglet Shore was this child’s country dream. With woods on one side and lots of shade on sunny days, it was an adventure playground that would stay in my memory – as it has for Sir Paul McCartney – for all these years.
Paul was right about the houses in Speke – designed by Sir Lancelot Keay, they were modern and spacious with, in our case, a separate loo and bathroom! And I think I may know the “Repartee” joke that Paul mentions, which I heard first in Speke, and have been telling people – boringly – most of my life. If it is the same one, it is too colourful to give here, but it involves a clown and a pair of identical twins. Could this jog Paul’s memory?
Stuart Robertson
Manchester
As a Speke girl born in a council flat, where the midwife who attended to my mother, Kitty, at my birth was one Mary McCartney, I was delighted to read Sir Paul recalling the way Speke was perceived as a real step up for its postwar inhabitants. I loved growing up in Speke, with its wide, tree-lined avenues, and houses which boasted indoor plumbing as well as front and back gardens.
As for the joke with the punchline “Repartee” which Paul can’t recall, the only Speke joke I know which features this word is: “A lad goes into Central Library and asks the librarian: ‘Have you got any books on sparkling wit and swift repartee?’ The librarian asks why he needs such a book and he replies: ‘My brother wipes the floor with me with his swift wit and quick repartee – for example, last night I told him to leave me alone and, quick as a flash, he came back at me: “Fuck off, you soft cunt.”’”
I hope this helps Sir Paul.
Maggie Patel
Bearwood, West Midlands
