A trip to the dump is one of my great pleasures in life â and Iâm not alone âThe gruff camaraderie, the clang of rubble against metalâ: Richard Godwin, locked and loaded. Photograph: PÃ¥l Hansen/The Observer âThe gruff camaraderie, the clang of rubble against metalâ: Richard Godwin, locked and loaded. Photograph: PÃ¥l Hansen/The Observer Everything has its place at the dump, no matter how abject or broken. No wonder there were queues when it reopened after lockdown Sat 22 May 2021 10.00 EDT A couple of miles from my home, down on the other side of the motorway, in a semi-industrial scrubland of building-supply merchants, gearbox specialists and a mysterious warehouse called Limbs and Things, lies the Household Waste Recycle Centre. At least, the council calls it the âHWRCâ; everyone else calls it the dump. I have visited this enchanted acre seven or eight times this past year, and I always emerge feeling happy and serene. I see it as my favourite piece of municipal infrastructure â and clearly, I am not alone. âPeople love it here. Honestly, with some of them, itâs like theyâve seen the Second Coming,â said one of the waste-management officers on a recent visit. When the dump reopened after the first lockdown, the queue to get in stretched 200 cars long. Like pubs, like school, like the touch of our loved ones, we missed it when it wasnât available.