Harbouring ambitions

Cher Eugene,

I HAVE to admit, I don't get around the island much any more, me. Not like I used to, anyway. But you wouldn't believe the building that's going on, mon vieux. They're squeezing houses in everywhere, eh? Hang, there won't be any green fields left soon, except those needed for landing lights or runway extensions. Or temporary concrete works, eh? And that Housing minister, he says there's even more land needed for housing.

If it carries on the whole island will be built-up, Eugene, with people clinging to the edge, eh?

That Housing one, he says they might have to look at building to Belgrave next, even though there's a problem with the water table and the roads round there. Bert, from L'Ancresse, he said they had those problems to Les Nicolles, but it didn't stop them building a big school there and messing up the roads in the process, eh?

And they still haven't decided on homes for these temporary airport workers, Eugene. The Public Services, they had their plans turned down for accommodation to Longue Hougue, but they're applying again, them. I suppose they'll call it something else and this time it will get through. Bert said it had to be refused first time round just to make it look good, eh?

And they've put in plans to build a dock to Longue Hougue as well. But do you know, just this last week we've had the harbour master saying St Peter Port needs £100m. spent on it, for new cranes and berths? He wants it to be able to take super-yachts and even cruise liners, him. Old Bert said he reckoned they should use my idea, Eugene. After all, if they're going to build a dock for freight ships to Longue Hougue, they might as well make it big enough for superyachts and cruise liners while they're at it and save money on St Peter Port, eh?

They could even make some money if the cruise ships moored alongside to take on fuel and supplies. And I said to Bert, it could even help with the housing. I mean, if proper fuel ships can get into Longue Hougue, then the ones the States bought could be moored up and used for housing, like that Queen Mary liner in America. It might even get planning permission, as long as it didn't include a floating restaurant, eh?

Bert said it would mean they could turn St Peter Port back into a pretty harbour again, without all the lorry parks and Customs sheds and railings and all that. And it would even help their traffic strategy, because the big freight lorries wouldn't have to come ashore in St Peter Port and drive all the way back along the front to the freight sheds at St Sampson's. They'd already be there, eh?

Talking of traffic, I suppose the buses will be going onto their winter schedule soon, Eugene. Mind you, I don't know if anyone will notice, because they're cutting the timetable anyway with all the breakdowns. But I was thinking, me, it's the wrong way round, eh? They want people to use the buses more, but as soon as the cold weather comes and people don't want to walk or cycle so much, they go on to a reduced service. Mind you, I had to laugh when Bert told me he'd followed a bus the other day with an advert on the back telling him that that new supermarket has got 1,300 everyday essentials. He said hang, he wouldn't be pleased if his wife came home with 1,300 items every day, that's for sure.

But it's not just the buses reducing their service, Eugene, there's the post office as well. They're going to reduce the number of deliveries from six a week down to five. I heard it was to save money, because they keep having to pay higher prices to the Royal Mail. But that means we're having to pay more because an English firm is in trouble, eh? I said to Bert, that chief minister keeps telling other countries we're different from England, so perhaps we should prove it and route our mail through France, eh?

I've said before, it seems to me the island's getting more like England every day, mon vieux. I mean, the States are talking about keeping an official record of their meetings now, and do you know, they've already started calling it Hansard? But that's the name of the UK Parliament record, eh? I know some of the States members like to think they're a government, with ministers and all that, but that's a bit ambitious even for them, eh? I mean, the UK Parliament is a hang of a lot bigger. Mind you, the way some of our States members like to talk during meetings, our Hansard could end up bigger than theirs, eh?

Bert was saying how our heritage and laws come from Norman French, with Billets d'Etat and Projets de Loi and all that, so they should use a Guernsey-French name. But the States don't seem interested in that any more, Eugene – they just copy the UK all the time. I mean, they scrapped the conseillers and invented ministers and now they even talk about backbenchers and presenting a White Paper or a Green Paper, but we never had those before, us, eh? Hang, they can't even make up their minds what to call a States meeting now, mon vieux. Sometimes they call it the Assembly, sometimes the House and then sometimes the Chamber.

I said to Bert, it makes it sound as if they don't know where they're going when they set off for a States meeting.

Then again, some would say they don't know where they're going once they get there, eh? Bert said the way some of them behave, perhaps they should call it the Classroom.

Mind you, there could be one thing worse than copying England, mon vieux. I don't know if you've heard, but one of those Jersey senators, he said the islands should cooperate more and could even combine to make one big bailiwick. The Crapauds and us.

Caw, you can guess what the lads had to say about that, Eugene. I mean, it's bad enough having to have their milk and butter over here, eh?

Bert said the Crapauds must be after something and he wondered if it was to do with the fishing limits, because he's heard the States have got a new agreement on fishing limits all drawn up and ready to sign. I wonder if they've got a blank cheque all drawn up and ready to sign as well, just in case, eh?

A la perchoine,

Your cousin, Emile.