AAARGH. Eeeek. Yeurrrch. As you can see, the more

eloquent and expressive words fail me. At least, the

printable ones. Speechlessness, shock, horror and

disbelief battled for first place when I set eyes upon Bude

Canal at the weekend.

Whatever have they plonked there on the banks?

Surely something deposited by an outsized hound? There

are enough dirty dog owners who don't pick up after their

pets as it is, without this monstrous pile. You'd need a

mighty big bin for this lot, though.

This hideous "installation" — supposedly alluding to

some aspect of the town's maritime past — is offensive,

horrible and pointless.

This is ugliness for the sake of ugliness. The same

school of thought that spawned the ghastly exterior of

Plymouth's Drake Circus shopping centre, right beside

that dignified memorial to the city's war dead, Charles

Cross Church. The area's now an even worse concrete hell

than it was before, like something out of 1950s

Azerbaijan.

It's the same school of thought that planted the

silly, creepy, life-sized carved figures along the

Torrington side of the beautiful Tarka Trail. Why, oh why,

do they do it?

Bude Canal, with its bridges and locks, its wildlife, its

willows and marshes, its majestic Falcon Hotel, needs no

decoration. Just a giant poop-scoop now.