I've just been phoned by a fellow journo to get quoted in a piece he's doing for the Sunday Times - part of which is about why country people hate townies. We covered houses (townies pushed up all the prices, importing poncy architects and interior designers), village life (non existent when half the houses are owned by townies who are only there a few days a month), wardrobes (townies are the only ones to be spotted wearing Barbours and Hunter wellies - country people wear trainers and lumberjack shirts) and county rivalry (similar to postcode shorthand in London).
The one thing we didn't mention - class. Perhaps because when two quite posh journos are discussing a piece for Sunday Times Style mag about the trials and tribulations of being a Snotty Hill townie with a pad in Dorset, there is a basic assumption of lower-upper-classness. But actually, I know that this particular journo, while he hobnobs with all the poshos, he doesn't consider himself at heart to be One Of Them. (Actually he tells a funny story about staying with Bryan Ferry when he was married to the very posh Lucy, which illustrates how posh people in the country always disappear after lunch and you have to awkwardly find something to do totally on your own for hours until they re-emerge in an outlandish outfit demanding a game of tennis.)
Or maybe because there's a certain assumption that all of the countryside is basically quite posh (untrue - apart from the fact that they do posh things like hunting, shooting and fishing), and that townies who go there are posh.
Or maybe........just maybe.......(tiny hopeful voice)......class isn't uppermost in our minds anymore.