“So what’s with the multi-coloured ostriches?” I asked my hosts in the Romanian city of Bistrița. Dotted around the historic heart of this Transylvanian regional centre are several of these birds, each brightly coloured, life size and with a horseshoe in its beak, and also (dramatically larger than life size) some of their eggs. Apparently they appear on Bistrița’s historic coat of arms, dating, along with its charter fair, from the 14th century. They are a fun feature of the city, but not uniformly popular. For many residents the “official” logo, featuring the spire of the Evangelical Church and some of the courtyard arches of the merchants’ houses, is a better example of local distinctiveness.
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“Atomkraft? Nein danke.” For the fashionable environmentalist of thirty years ago there were few more evocative slogans. No battered Citroen 2CV was complete without a sticker to the effect in the rear window. The more prosaic “Nuclear Power? No thanks.” didn’t do the job at all. And if you could add the faint aroma of patchouli oil to suggest that your gorgeous companion had only recently vacated the passenger seat, then better still.
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Year 11 at The Whinings Technology College filed nervously into the room. As the last students took their seats the invigilator started to speak. “Welcome to this GCSE English Language examination. As you know, after complaints that papers have become progressively easier, there are some changes to the syllabus this year. Good luck everybody – you may turn over your papers and begin.”
Gasps were heard above the rustling of papers and scraping of chairs as the pupils read the instructions:
Question 1. Read the following 1000 pages of Government planning guidance carefully. When you have finished, précis it into no more than 50 pages, keeping all the salient points and providing a definition of sustainable development. Time allowed: 21 months – including a period of public consultation.
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The wind power industry could employ over 200,000 people in Britain in forty years time. And one of the biggest opportunities comes from actually getting the equipment made here. So while arguments go on about wind farms, for many commentators they are a vital part of a Green New Deal.
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“You have no right to a view, Sir. I’m sorry.” As a rookie town planner it’s one of the first things you learn, as you sit attentively at the feet of the Development Control Manager before your first stint dealing with the punters on reception. Quite right too you may say. It helps us keep a haughty professional distance from such NIMBY considerations in the execution of our duties.
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Wind power has had a rather mixed press lately. More than 100 MPs signed a letter seeking a reduction in subsidies, and the Chairman of the National Trust told the Daily Telegraph that he regarded wind farms as a “menace”. In December they provided 5% of our electricity. But as the Government’s lead scenario is for renewable energy to meet 30% of our needs by 2020, we can expect a lot more of them.
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My previous blog post brought the entirely valid response that I do rather look at High Speed 2 through the southern end of the telescope. So when, last week, I was invited to be a panellist in a Guardian on-line discussion about the effects of the line on local economies I thought it would be an ideal opportunity for me to do some CPD.
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So HS2 has passed its next hurdle. Having walked the whole route last summer my first thoughts were for those places which I had found to be most affected by the line. For those people who until a couple of years ago had imagined that peace and tranquillity was theirs for ever.
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My wife’s threatening to chain herself to the first concrete mixer that shows up at the site. The last time she was this animated about a planning issue was twenty years ago when I tried to explain about Tree Preservation Orders. “You mean they can stop you chopping down a tree in your own garden?” she had asked me incredulously. But this time it’s serious. And it’s on my doorstep.
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The 12th of May 2010 was supposed to have been such a great day for Much-Whining-in-the-Wolds. After the indecisive general election result and the shilly-shallying of that untrustworthy Mr Clegg, a coalition had finally been formed and Brown was out. In genteel homes all across the parish very passable champagne was being raised to the lips. Those unbearable socialists might have stopped them hunting over England’s green and pleasant land, but their threat to cover what was left of it in bricks and mortar was in tatters. Instead that nice Caroline Spelman was going to abolish housing targets and let local people decide how many new homes should be built.
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