Getting to the right bay is a game. You have to watch the cars. They zigzag like confused beetles. Everyone’s trying to find the cardboard corner first.
There’s a rhythm to it. You pull up. You yell “Is this wood?” to a man in a hi-vis vest. He nods. You throw. You feel like an Olympic athlete. Just a very, very domestic one.
The staff are the real stars. They see everything. They have seen a whole bathtub fly out of a Fiat 500. They just shrug. Nothing surprises them anymore.
Two trips to Harrow Recycling Centre allowed per day from November
The Smells (Yes, We’re Talking About Them)
Let’s be honest. It smells like yesterday’s mystery. A mix of wet cardboard, old grass, and something vaguely sweet. It’s nature’s air freshener, but with more dust.
You get used to it. After five minutes, you don’t notice. You’re too busy hunting for treasure. The smell becomes the scent of possibility.
One day, I swear I smelled cinnamon. Someone threw away Christmas in July. That’s the spirit of Forward Drive.
