Wet wipes, straws and ‘mermaids’ tears’: Jane Bradley on the marine plastic epidemic that’s poisoning our food.
‘Ohhhh, it’s garbage,” said the fresh-faced American tourist, clearly relieved to realise that the giant bags we were lugging onto Cramond promenade did not actually contain dead bodies.
His expression changed and he looked us straight in the eye, in that sincere way that only Americans can.
“I thank you,” he said. It was a freezing Saturday morning and while most of you were probably happily tucked up your beds, I was out in my gardening gloves and a woolly hat, plucking revolting items of sewage from the beach.
I can’t claim a great gesture of altriusm: my far more motivated friend had suggested we take part in a…