Madness

I moved to Greece at the beginning of February 2005 and every Sunday I would send a newsy email to my entire contacts list. Less than a fortnight later, my friend Mima moved to Australia and did the same thing every Friday. She has since moved to New Zealand and although my newsy emails petered out quite quickly, hers are still going strong after more than fourteen years. She was in her office in central Christchurch when the massive earthquake hit.

And so it was this morning that her weekly email alerted me to the atrocity which had just happened there. I hadn't put the radio on because I was so heartily sick of hearing news from Westminster

Words fail me.

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For longer than I have been employed at my current workplace, there has been a massive earthwork project going on between the front of Strood Railway Station and the edge of the river where that submarine wallows. Ground level has risen by a good 3 metres, most of it (on close inspection) seems to be made from crushed buildings. Initially big lumpy stuff was deposited, and as the months have drawn on, the hardcore has become finer and finer. I imagine this is all to do with good drainage and solid foundations. My understanding is that it will be for new housing, but if that includes houses with gardens, I wouldn't care to attempt to grow anything, or even dig. I've built one garden from building rubble and it's not an easy task.

Be that as it may, as work has progressed the through road has been closed and a walkway for pedestrians and cyclists re-routed around the edge. A week or two ago, small signs politely requesting cyclists to dismount were added. More recently, larger signs, insisting that they did so were put in place, and now this monstrosity.

I should let you know that as soon as the small polite signs appeared, I complied, even though the pathway was, at points, ankle deep in water.

What do you think about this? I've never seen anything like it before!

I am unusually tall and slender and yet even so, just walking between these obstacles brushes both of my upper arms. Were I any wider than I am I would need to turn sideways to avoid bruising. Were I wearing a thick coat I would need to turn sideways to avoid it getting scuffed. Were I using a wide and stable walking frame or pushing a wheelchair or a twin baby buggy I think I'd have serious problems getting through this whisker of a gap.

The cyclists who don't dismount simply take their hands off the handlebars and raise their arms higher, occasionally using those big fat handles as a useful push. What is it supposed to achieve?

It strikes me as yet another example of people who have absolutely no comprehension of How Things Actually Work In The Real World being given carte blanche to define How Things Should Work In The Real World (according to them) and it reminds me very much of Kendall's “pigeon spikes”.

Apart from being immensely happy at work, this has been an awfully sad day.
(At work I have been reversing virtual skip lorries into imaginary parking bays to prove that they are functional)