Terrible things are happening to the good people of Eastleigh. The entirety of the Westminster village has decamped here. Local shoppers have to navigate a treacherous maze of excitable young party activists, stuffing campaign bumf into their hands and forcing their children to carry balloons with party logos. Throw something heavy and you've a good chance of hospitalising a Cabinet secretary.
It makes for a messy, baffling scene, like Glastonbury for hideous politics people. Spotty teenagers hand out leaflets for the Tories inbetween cigarettes, then mock an eccentric Ukip man with a loudhailer who walks around the town centre with his dog. Everyone seems to be having a grand old time, except for the people of Eastleigh, who look irritable and bored and desperate for the whole thing to stop.
The town itself is so characterless it is almost notable. It is entirely without qualities. Most places have at least one spot which make them look passable, but Eastleigh is universally dull. It
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