puddle gull

There is a gang of urban gulls that hang around the secondary school, in a handy patch of buffer space and car-park between the school and the fast food shops. They seem to live mostly on chip wrappers, discarded pakora and puddle water, though I have seem them poking halfheartedly at worms.

What's it like to be a gull in a town thirty miles from the sea? Is the puddle water bland and disappointing? Do the chip wrappers trigger salty memories of the Old Country, and the old ways?