Rob Batiste: Where the streets have no shame...

They used to hang men around this way at Hougue a la Perre corner. They did ... really.

And while it would be regarded as too drastic an early 21st century punishment for employing an ugly traffic layout, those responsible for this long-running and almost laughable excuse for one between Town and the Bridge really need a slap across the wrists.

Yes, it’s only a bend on a busy road, but in many ways it sums up Guernsey now.

Untidy, largely uncared for and popularly regarded as going down the tubes with so little money to spend.

The flattened cones are nothing new. They’ve been prostrate for years now and for much of that time a neighbourly upright dangled precariously with nobody in the slightest bothered to replace it or remove it.

As a traffic calming measure this bulging of the bend into and out of Les Banques has been a success.

But, surely, there were more attractive ways of doing it. A nice wooden planter or two made up by some Les Nicolle inmates and seasonal flowers courtesy of Grow. Not hard to do.

And what message does it send out to visitors?

I tell you what, I doubt you would see it in Jersey. They may have messed up with their choice of ferry operators, but they proudly dress their roadsides across the island.

Here, unless it is in the heart of Town or St Peter’s Village, we seemingly don’t care very much.

The Bridge and its environs are a prime example.

Notwithstanding the flower displays, our second town owes everything to the appeal of a marina in front of it.

A four-storey tower block won’t improve the vista, but the entire area is desperately tired, needing investment and inspiration.

You can add to that list someone to get rid of the (presumably stolen) tyre-stripped pushbike chained to the bike park in front of Costa. It has been there only a fortnight or so, as prone and listless as a couple of those roadside cones at Hougue a la Perre, both instances a metaphor for 21st century Guernsey in the north.

Add to that New Road, between Church on the Rock and the Bridge itself, which for much of the year is seldom less than an eyesore.

This unsightliness in the north incorporates the ‘Halfway’ too and that hideous, gaudily-decorated bus shelter that nobody uses for that exact purpose, but seems to suit a few unfortunates without a home, youngsters up to no good and, alongside, an extraordinarily ugly bush.

I’d flatten both and extend the car park.

Across the island you will find weeds sticking out of pavements and, out in the country where the latter is absent, hedge cuttings often litter roads after their twice-yearly cuts.

And when you come across a roadside denigrated by neither weeds nor debris, it is likely to be closed for repairing some fault that lies deep below.

Throw all this into the melting pot of island life and Guernsey is becoming a pit of frustration with the direction seemingly ever backwards.

Our salvation is, of course, a coastline where the sea is always around to sweep away the vraic and other less natural detritus.

The beach kiosks have surely had a bumper year. You must hand it to the vast majority of them for providing a fantastic source of simple joys to temporarily erase disappointment elsewhere.

Almost without exception, these kiosks show our island in its best light and set a benchmark you would hope our authorities could follow.