The Angry Bristolian: Outsiders Are Ruining Bristol..

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Nothing makes the Angry Bristolian crosser than "outsiders" holding back the development of Bristol


An occasional column written by the Angry Bristolian.

I don't know if anyone has realised it yet, but we face another tricky vote in Bristol in May.

I'm aware that for some of you, having to make another decision so soon after weighing up whether to keep the hideous bottle of undrinkable spirit Auntie Janet bought you for Christmas, or feed it to next door's plants, is a bit tiring. Nonetheless it's true.

On May 22 we get to participate in the charming but largely pointless exercise of voting in a third of the council wards, which takes away the pleasure of wiping whichever party is annoying us the most off the political map. That is denied us until 2016.

In the past local elections followed a very simple pattern. The posh people in the inner city suburbs would vote Lib Dem, the council estates would return Labour members, and the very rich people living on the edge of the city would ensure a gaggle of Tories survived at the top table.

But we're in new territory now.

Say what you like about George Ferguson (and plenty of people do), the number of votes cast in the mayoral election may have been derisory compared to the city's overall population, but they sent a signal to the main parties.

They were saying because of your efforts in ruining Bristol's public transport, its roads, your hand-wringing on the sidelines as our sporting facilities and large venues become laughing stocks, and your inability to grasp investment opportunities when they stare you in the face, we're trying something new.

As a lifelong Labour voter, I wish I could say the party took heed of the two fingers the electorate showed them, but the immediate post-election posturing where they refused to take any seats in Ferguson's cabinet, continues today.

This is assuming that the least funny spoof account on Twitter (RedPantsMayor) is the work of someone in Bristol who supports Labour. If it's not, then my mother's Banksy.

So now, come May, if you live in a ward where the only logical choice is between the Lib Dems or Labour, it's a bit like choosing between being punched in the gut or kicked in the face.

For example. Hengrove Play Park was under threat because of council cuts.

Like superman without any of the special powers, Lib Dem councillor Tim Kent sped to the scene.

And so, plastered across the Post and other media, we had pictures of Kent looking earnest.

We also had to swallow shots of five year-olds holding Socialist Worker placards aimed at the mayor. (I wonder how many children asked their parents on the way home if Socialist Worker was a new character in Peppa Pig.)

Two things about this.

Firstly, the cuts we face in Bristol are passed down to us from the government. A government made possible by the Lib Dems getting into bed with the Tories.

Secondly, it takes some big brass balls for the Lib Dems to make a song and dance about a play park being under threat.

This is the party, let us not forget, that was going to sell off green spaces all across the city not so long ago, sparking the sort of cross-city anger not seen since Blackthorn tinkered with their flavours.

So maybe you put the Lib Dems and Labour to one side. Let's assume the Tories haven't put a credible candidate up where you live because it's not worth their while. This opens the door to the Greens, or an independent.

The Greens seemed to be slowly adding a new colour to the make-up of the city council, but what's happening in Horfield might set their revolution back a few years.

I'm no Bristol Rovers fan, but an avid follower of the new sport in this city, known as "whose stadium development can be dragged out the longest?"

Daniella Radice leads the Greens, and if I may say so, is getting some bad advice from somewhere.

"I'm not anti-stadium" she says repeatedly. That doesn't really work I'm afraid Daniella.

The bulldozers would already be clearing the site for the new Gas stadium at Frenchay if the judicial review bid hadn't been made.

The local people had been asked, the planning application had been considered, the democratic process had been followed. It was a done deal.

The only thing holding it up is you and your group who can't take "no" for an answer.

The question is often asked: "Why does nothing get done in Bristol?"

Call me territorial, but it's largely due to people who move here from elsewhere.

We all know why they do it. If you're living and working in some character-free hovel like Milton Keynes or Reading, then Bristol is a golden paradise of hills, nice pubs, quirky shops and tall ships in the harbour.

We Bristolians don't mind you coming here. In fact we're quite proud you chose our little city and rave about it to your friends back home.

But don't then come here and hold it back.

Too many developments flounder because people think they're moving to some rural market town, when in fact they're moving to a city whose urban sprawl contains a million people.

Gloucestershire County Cricket Club had to clear more hurdles than Colin Jackson when they tried to rebuild their ground.

They managed it in the end, but not before missing out on some one-day internationals.

And where is the county ground? Slap bang in the middle of nappy valley, on the edge of Bishopston and St Andrew's, the places that Guardian readers from Clapham and Hammersmith have sweaty dreams about.

In the same way that people move to the countryside and then try and prosecute the local farmer because of the smell of manure, these characters want the benefits of living in a city, such as a choice of herbal teas and artisan bakeries, but God forbid any of the local professional sports teams show any ambition.

You can hear the musings over mocachinos on any cafe in Redland or Southville. Why can't these ghastly sports teams just all play in the same stadium, somewhere like Avonmouth where we'll never have to look at their supporters or hear their hilarious accents. (Oh, but I'm wearing a 'Gurt Lush' T-shirt because it's somehow ironic).

What does it matter anyway, you might say. Rovers are useless and City aren't much better. Why do they need new grounds when they can't fill their curren ones?

We've got the Balloon Fiesta, the Southville Arts Trail and Temple Meads is going to get a lick of paint in the next couple of years. Sporting failure doesn't matter because we're ever so good at all this other stuff.

I'll tell you why it matters.

Thousands - no, tens of thousands - of Bristolians identify themselves by their sporting allegiances, or which sports they play.

And yet another section of the city's population, which has largely come in from outside, would rather all this horrid kick-ball and rugger went away. (Except the Six Nations on the telly, and the Spanish football highlights on a Sunday night.)

Both our football clubs are in a poor state at the moment. Agreed.

But what do we see elsewhere? Swansea, who used to be regular opponents of Rovers once, established in the Premier League, with an exciting young foreign coach.

What factors propelled Swansea from the fourth division all the way through to the top?

A new stadium would be near the top of the list. Michael Laudrup would, I imagine, have thought the Vetch Field - Swansea's old stadium - was some sort of cruel joke.

Let's pick another club who were in the Premier League last year - Reading.

They, like Swansea, used to be regular visitors to both the Mem and Ashton Gate. And in another coincidence, play in a new, modern stadium.

You only have to go back to the mid 1990s to find Reading playing in the run-down surroundings of their old stadium - Elm Park - in front of crowds of between 4-6,000, about what Rovers get now. Their average attendance last season was around 24,000.

Maybe you hate football. Even if you do, the sporting heritage of this city is very important to the rest of us.

We don't stop your graffiti festivals, your myriad identikit (and yet apparently alternative) cafes and your gentrification of most of Bristol's old boozers.

But in return, it would be nice if you acknowledged that Bristol isn't just for people who skateboard to work, think that crap Banksy rip-offs on North Street are worth cooing over, and that cardigans and berets are a good look on a grown man.

This is our city as much as it is yours. And much as you'd like us to stay in the estates and not spoil the scenery, our hopes and dreams are just as important as yours.

**The Angry Bristolian lives in Brislington.


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