To force action on Britain’s sewage-blighted rivers and beaches, we need to kick up a new great stink
After the third lockdown ended, in that summer when everyone felt faintly broken, we ran away to the sea.
At first it rained torrentially. But then the sun began tentatively to come out, and my son went snorkelling in a hidden rocky cove near the Cornish cottage we had rented. When the next day he started being violently sick, my first thought was food poisoning. But the whole family had eaten the same food, and the only one to fall ill was the lone swimmer.
Gaby Hinsliff is a Guardian columnist