Paved paradise (2nd July
2003)
Winchester youngsters protesting at the Bar End Car Park site claim
that they have been intimidated, threatened and had their property
damaged by security guards there. By Max Jones
Several environmentally minded youngsters have set up a camp on
the roadside by the building site that used to be a beautiful butterfly
and wildflower meadow. It is now a muddy and horrible building site,
and will soon be a car park.
This has all happened despite the fact that the site was promised
to the people of Winchester in return for the countryside that was
ruined when the Twyford Down bypass was built.
Our young heroes say that in the middle of the night they were woken
up by six or seven security guards shining powerful torches in their
faces, throwing water on them and threatening them.
Some of the female protesters say they had sexual remarks made to
them, and the boys say they were threatened with violence. The security
guards allegedly then pulled down one tarpaulin shelter and stomped
another tent into the ground before heading off into the night.
This happened at about 2.30 am Monday morning.
I met the protesters, a nice bunch of folk just desperate to right
what they see as a total injustice. They ask anyone who agrees with
them to go and join them on their Garnier Road site, or take them
down some supplies if they can.
I also met some security guards. They kept me waiting in the rain
for ages while they sat in their hut laughing. They then told me
they had no comment to make. As I was told this by the security
chief another guard (whose face reminded me of a pugnacious canine
occupied in the distasteful task of using his tongue to remove urine
from a stinging plant) stood there eyeballing me.
To believe that this lot could intimidate people in the dead of
night does not seem inconceivable. Anyway, they have a camera trained
on the protesters site at all times which should have recorded whatever
happened. So, if the protesters were to take the guards to court
it could be cleared up either way.
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Desperately Seeking Reason
(2nd July 2003)
The country seems to be very jittery about ‘Asylum Seekers’,
worrying stories are beginning to pepper the tabloids and the TV
news is getting all ‘investigative’. To get a true perspective
Mid Hampshire Observer journalists Pete Harvey and Max Jones visited
a centre for refugees in Southampton.
As I write this there are riots kicking off in Wrexham, North Wales,
as the residents of an estate there do not want asylum seekers living
in their midst. There have been marches in Kent, stabbings in Glasgow
and an arson attack in Southampton. What is it that these poor,
scared refugees do that seems to get up the noses of the great British
public so much?
In pubs up and down the land you will hear people talking about
how ‘they come over here to take our jobs’, ‘they
get more benefits that an English person’, and ‘they are
criminals.’
If I had a penny for every time I have heard the proviso “I’m
not racist but” I would have at least a few quid!
On a muggy Thursday, asylum seekers and refugees were turning up
for at the CLEAR centre for their English class. We met people from
The Congo, Tibet, Iraq, Iran, China and Afghanistan. They are all
desperate to learn our language, so that if they are granted refugee
status they can get a job.
When we arrived, Stella, the lady who runs CLEAR, was talking to
Mr A, from Afghanistan. Having paid $6500 and spending seven months
to get here on a truck, seeing his father and brother killed by
the regime in his home country and avoiding mortar shells on the
Iranian border, Mr A was doing a last battle with the housing benefit
system here! There is a backlog of claims going back five months,
and this is causing untold problems for asylum seekers. The asylum
seekers are in a catch 22 that goes; they are unable to stay put
because they are threatened with eviction but if they find better
circumstances elsewhere they can’t up sticks because they owe
the landlords money.
When asylum seekers arrive in this country they are dispersed around
the country. Mr A had been up to Sheffield, others end up in Sunderland,
and some in Wrexham.
After the asylum seeker has been here for a few months, they are
may be either ‘leave to remain’ which gives them ‘refugee’
status and means they can stay for 2/4 years, with full rights.
The rights they are granted after their cases have been looked into
are permission to work and claim benefits.
In Southampton there are around 500 refugees at any given moment.
Once they are eligible for benefit, they receive 24% less than a
British person.
In Southampton they do not get housed in luxury flats for thousands
a week at our expense. The city has a ‘fair rent agreement,’
so landlords cannot charge exorbitant rents.
Whilst asylum seekers are waiting to see if they are granted refugee
status, they cannot work. Some Brits, would spend this time drinking
heavily and fighting one another, but very few asylum seekers come
from ‘drinking cultures’. There are a very few instances
of refugees causing trouble.
If only the other side of the coin was the same. Only a few weeks
ago someone launched an arson attack on a house in Southampton.
The house was full of asylum seekers. Not only did the culprit do
this, but they removed the smoke alarms as well. It is only sheer
luck that prevented anyone being killed. Think about it. You have
escaped war, famine and torture, you come to England and some lunatic
tries to burn you to death.
I met one of the victims of that attack, a 17 year old Congolese
lad who preferred to remain nameless. His father is dead, and his
mother ‘disappeared.’ The boy came all the way over from
the Congo in a boat, on his own.
First he lived in France for a while, now he is in Southampton.
The loneliness he must feel can only be imagined. Surely we should
be welcoming people like this to our country?
One of the most popular misconceptions is that people come over
here to somehow take all of our money. In fact, last year, immigrants
contributed £31.2 billion in taxes. This is before you take
into account duty on cigarettes or VAT.
In the same year immigrants claimed £28.8 billion in benefits.
This is a net gain to the country of £2.5 billion. This is
before we take into account the cultural benefits, which are obviously
enormous.
Another young guy there is Tibetan. Aged 26, he came from one of
the most amazing countries in the world, fleeing persecution from
the Chinese. The Chinese have been merrily eradicating Tibetan culture
for a number of years now.
The Dalai Lama scarpered and set up his government in exile in India,
and tens of thousands of people have been murdered and imprisoned
without trial. Bizarrely enough the Tibetan was sat next to a Chinese
refugee, and they were getting on fine.
Another immigrant who was not there today is a 28 year old who used
to play for the Ugandan football team. Having to escape to save
his own life, this man cannot leave his house now due to depression
and injuries sustained in transit.
To suggest that people like this want to be in the position they
are in is absurd. The logistics of escaping and crossing all these
borders are such that it generally has to be a lone mission. So,
there is always the pain of leaving family behind.
‘But they take our jobs,’ is always another popular lament.
The thing is, logic dictates that the more people in a society,
the more shops that are needed, the more houses etc, so the more
workers that are needed. So, for every person taking a job, another
opportunity is being created.
Anyway, who is employing these people? Perhaps we need to look at
the British apple farmer paying refugees literally £1 an hour,
or the agency that puts foreign people on a different rate of pay
as it ferries them around from factory to factory.
Asylum seekers have not really reached Winchester and Romsey yet,
but, with Bush on the rampage again and the world going progressively
madder, it cannot be long. I only hope that we would make an effort
to try and understand them, and don’t believe all we read in
the tabloids.
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Daylight Robbery (2nd
July 2003)
There was all sorts of fun and games at Jeremy France Jewellers,
at the top of town last week (24/6/03). Max Jones reports.
An unsavoury looking young man, aged about 20, came in and asked
to look at a ring.
The ring that he chose to peruse was worth
£30, 000. This makes it the most expensive item the shop has
ever stocked. So, Jeremy, the owner, was a trifle worried when the
guy turned around and legged it!
“The shop assistant was asked to show this young man the ring.
She decided that it was out of her league, so she called me to help.
As I was coming over, the guy leaned over, grabbed the ring and
high-tailed it out of the shop.”
Jeremy gave chase, shouting and screaming. he caught up with the
guy at the junction of the High Street and Tower Street, but, unfortunately
the thief put on a burst of speed and escaped, jumping into a waiting
car.
However, Jeremy managed to get the number plate of the getaway car.
The thief was using his own car! And he was seen on no less than
seven security cameras! Caught methinks. The ring, would only fetch
around two or three thousand quid on the black market.
“It would have to be sold to the criminal fraternity,”
said Jeremy. “Any jewellers who bought a ring like that from
a young man like that would be answering a few questions from the
police.”
The ring, thought to be unique, is a white diamond solitaire set
in solid platinum, flanked by two further pear shaped white diamonds.
Jewellers, like all other retailers, have to show the prices of
all their wares. This makes things a lot easier for the thief, as
they can simply choose the most expensive thing and then hop it.
“It is a stupid law that makes it a lot more dangerous for
all of us,” said Jeremy.
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Vodka and Cabbage (2nd
July 2003)
Camels were being fed contraband cabbages at Marwell Zoo last week
(25/6/03). Pete and Max watched
What had happened was that customs officers had seized over 14,000
litres of vodka at Poole Ferryport. The dastardly smugglers were
bringing it through covered in in 750 kilos of cabbages!
The reason for hiding the vodka was to evade around £140,000
in duty. This works out as a whacking tenner a litre which is generally
paid in duty. This seemed like a lot of money. I spoke to the customs
officer Charlotte who had led the operation, “It’s not
our fault that you pay so much duty. Blame the Chancellor for his
taxation policies.” She then added ‘sotto voce’ “that’s
why so many people head over the channel!”
Well, I know where I am off to next time I need a load of fags!
By the way, the customs officials also told me that the draconian
cross channel laws have been relaxed. Now, when one goes to Calais
or Cherbourg they can bring back over 3000 cigarettes before they
have to explain their motives. That is good.
Anyway, Pete and I got to burn around on those golf trollies that
staff use at Marwell, much to the envy of the other punters there.
Pete drove, whilst I sat in the passenger seat and waved at people.
Apparently the trolley we got to go in had once been driven at a
golf tournament by none other than the mighty Tiger Woods.
Up to the camel enclosure we went, to see ‘Tabitha’ and
‘Wacker’ the mighty ‘ships of the desert’ receive
their cabbages. It took them a while to appear interested, they
had to strut around looking haughty first, scratch themselves a
bit,and then eventually deign to eat a cabbage. I really like camels,
they truly are an animal with attitude!
The keepers then strolled off to feed other animals with their cabbage
stash, and we headed back to Winchester.
In the same way that they often ask celebrities if they know the
price of milk as a ‘reality test,’ we stood there as a
huddle trying to work out how much a cabbage cost. We plumped for
a total of around about 60p for a big one, weighing in at about
a pound. This means that the zoo received about £800 worth
of animal food, which cannot be a bad thing.
“What about the vodka?” I hear you cry. Well, according
to our officer, the dodgy sounding vodka, named Volgonoff, was to
be destroyed. What a waste! Apparently, as it is smuggled then it
does not go through the same tests and weights and measures as other
brands. “ It could easily have high levels of methanol or other
nasties, which can send people mad and blind,” said Keith Nugus,
Senior Operational Manager for HM Customs and Excise.
Further tales from the world of Customs abounded. Apparently, at
Southampton airport recently they found some cocaine hidden in the
washbags of two guys who had travelled from the West Indies.
Wash and go!
The suspicions of the officers were aroused because the two villains
had tried to pretend that they had only come from as far away as
Paris. So, they strolled thorough as if they were just an innocent
couple of guys from France. Bang, customs officers got them, found
the coke.
Our two heroes then said that they had just bought the shampoo and
soap in the market, and, lo and behold they were all full of kilos
of cocaine! Beats buy one get one free.
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Meadow Murder (9th July
2003)
This month’s ‘Observer Nature Watch’ is dedicated
to all the living thigs that have been destroyed by Winchester City
Council during their pointless vandalism of the Bar End Wild Flower
Meadows in favour of an additional car park which is neither wanted
nor required.
It is little wonder why that so much apathy surrounds voting at
elections. We see that our councillors are prepared to go back on
their word and develop an area which was given to local people to
compensate them for the destruction of Twyford Down. In their haste
to develop this site many living birds, reptiles, invertebrates
and wild flowers have been killed in their prime.
It is an outrage that this construction has been allowed to begin
whilst breeding birds are still active and before any proper reptile,
or invertebrate surveys have taken place.
GONE: Common Blue Butterflies, Red Foxes and Cowslips all made their
homes on the site. Whilst a family of Foxes can re-locate, whole
colonies of butterflies have been destroyed along with their food
plants. Pyramidal Orchids, Duke of Burgundy and Marbled White butterfly
colonies have all been destroyed. Not to mention the nationally
scarce Striped Lychnis Moth which is now even scarcer
In an age when we are supposed to be conserving green field sites
how has this been allowed to happen?
By Trevor Codlin
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Flybe to the Choons (9th
July 2003)
Now you can fly to Ibiza from Southampton International Airport..
Max Jones did..
I got down to the airport at about seven ‘o’ clock on
Friday evening (27/6/03), a party was being thrown for assorted
journos, and anyone who was getting the inaugural flight to Ibiza.
We stood in the viewing gallery, bopping away to none other than
Judge Jules!
The bumph said that the airport was ‘recreating the ambience
of an Ibiza superclub,’ but I think they had a couple of aspects
wrong. For one thing, in an Ibizan superclub you can smoke, quite
an essential in my opinion, and, for another thing, the champagne
would certainly not be free!
Needless to say, the journos attacked the champers with great glee,
studiously ignoring the missives exhorting us not to board the flight
drunk! At around 10.30 we jetted off, and landed in Ibiza a mere
two hours later. We got to the bar at around 2am their time, and
it was great. It was all done up in a Middle Eastern style, mellow
ambient music to soothe our weary souls, and vast amounts of red
wine to slake our Herculean thirsts. Then we got taken off to one
of the superclubs, a little spot called Eden.
Eden is great, all Greco Roman pillars and lunatics.The music was
a cracking mix of house tunes, and after a while the water came
on. Suddenly we were stood in a swimming pool, while sprays and
jets poured water all over us. One of the little dance stages was
literally like standing under an enormous shower. This is a great
thing to happen in a very hot club, and, so long as concerns such
as mobile phones, watery lager and wet fags were forgotten, every
one seemed to enjoy it. I know I did.
If I remember rightly I was up on the dancers podium at some point
in that never ending quest to get the perfect photo for you, dear
reader.
After this, our group leader, Flybe marketing honcho Jim Chapman,
and myself headed over the road to a bar. We sat there chewing the
fat for a good couple of hours, both happy in the fact that you
could get a beer at seven in the morning, and, better still, look
at some of the prettiest girls I have ever seen. And they were drinking
beer at seven in the morning as well! Perfect.
Then it was back to the hotel, where the morning was spent hanging
out by the pool, swimming, getting really hot again, swimming again,
and so on and so forth. The same applied to beers. Open one, drink
a bit, it turns into beer tea, open another, drink a bit, and on
and on.
After a few hours of this, myself and Ed, from a news agency down
in Bournemouth went off to the world famous Cafe Del Mar. It was
shut, but we found another nice little spot next to it. Then started
another happy afternoon of bashing back beers, followed by swim
and a stroll back to the hotel. Our task at this point became to
find our respective girlfriends a present that looked as if it cost
more than it did. This proved virtually impossible, so Clare ended
up with a Pascha sarong that cost a fortune. And she did not like
it.Never mind.
After a snooze it was back over to the Cafe Del Mar, which was open
this time. It is an amazing place to watch the sun set, people juggle
fire, boats moor and the beautiful people parade up and down the
boardwalk. We did not parade, but simply sat there and drank very
large Bacardi and cokes, at very large prices. Ibiza is not cheap.
Although one can go to the supermarket and buy six cold bottles
of San Miguel and a pack of camels for £3, once you get into
the realms of the clubs and trendy bars you are looking at a fiver
a drink, and around £27 entry for the clubs.
It did not bother me in the slightest as we were only paying for
our drinks on the Saturday, and there is not such thing as a free
lunch, but I think on a two week jaunt over there one would have
to be careful.
This became more apparent on the Saturday night when we headed off
later to a club called El Divino. This was your proper Ibiza bling
bling club. Virtually everywhere was a VIP area, and trendy, beautiful
people strutted about everywhere. On the large terrace outside we
saw Vernon Kaye from T4. He is very tall. It was good to see all
that scene, but it is quite hateful really. The dancers were good.
I liked the lovely bikini clad girl. Matt, my friend, seemed more
keen on the big black guy dressed in leather shorts, a jerkin and
a cowboy hat.Still, at least something for everyone cannot be a
bad idea.
After all this fun it was back to the hotel, and then off to the
airport to catch the 6am flight back.
It was great fun, but did seem too short. Another day would have
been perfect, enough time to go to another club, do a bit more beach
and rent a moped.
I really cannot thank Jim and his colleague Kally from Flybe enough
for being so helpful and such a laugh, and Annalise from Southampton
Airport for being so pretty. I went on the new Flybe service, which
zooms over to the Balaerics in a matter of a couple of hours from
Southampton. Although budget, the planes are not too bad. I am six
foot four, and was sat in a window seat, yet I still had enough
legroom. That is saying something.
Flights are around £100, which is a veritable bargain.A rum
and coke on the flight is £3.50, which isn’t! Phone 08705
676 676 for more details, or look at www.flybe.com
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How was Glastonbury?
(9th July 2003)
There were three things that Oliver Gray expected never to do in
2003. Number One was to experience Richard Thompson playing ‘Shoot
Out The Lights’ in full majestic electric flight. Number two
was to experience Yes playing ‘Seen All Good People’ live
on a Sunday afternoon. And Number Three was to hear the Damned playing
‘Neat Neat Neat’ in a full-on adrenaline rush at midnight.
Guess what? he did all three within twenty-four hours at this year's
Glastonbury Festival...
I’ll be frank. I wasn’t really looking forward to the
2003 event, mainly because all the headliners had already played
Glastonbury in recent years, some several times: David Gray, Manic
Street Preachers, REM, Doves, etc., etc.
It seems that the organisers, in the knowledge that they sell all
120,000 tickets within hours anyway, have become complacent about
their booking policy. Either that or there aren’t any superstars
around any more.
What? Radiohead? Yes, they were there too, but I don’t go to
festivals to get depressed. So strolling round the smaller stages
was a deliberate policy this year, and how rewarding it turned out
to be. On Sunday, the Acoustic Stage saw not only the return of
Cerys Matthews, but also the birth of a new one in the form of Welsh
chanteuse Amy Wadge. Neither of them are a patch on the the old
Catatonia, unfortunately. Brilliant New York ex-punk Jesse Malin
rocked himself a UK profile in the ‘New Tent’ with a wild
and wonderful performance which included a real Glastonbury Moment
in the form of ‘What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love and Understanding’.
I nearly cried. On the ‘Other Stage’, The excellently
funky The Rapture were joined onstage by the Happy Mondays’
Bez, looking disturbingly like Roger Daltrey.
Shortly before, Arthur Lee with Love, all looking suitably baffled,
had played the whole of ‘Forever Changes’. Chuck Prophet,
on the ‘One World’ stage, wowed his devotees in the pouring
rain, while remaining sprightly and dapper in a dogtooth jacket.
He splattered mean and dirty guitar lines around like shrapnel and
climaxed with a singalong version of the Clash’s ‘Bank
Robber’. This was just one of hundreds of Strummer tributes
which movingly punctuated the weekend, this having been Joe’s
favourite stamping ground. The New Stage also featured a real tip
for big future things in the form of intelligent Mancunian Gallagher
lookalikes I Am Kloot.
Up at the Acoustic Stage, I finally got the reason why Kathleen
Edwards has so impressed North America with her - on the face of
it - standard alt-country. First, it’s the upfront sexual chemistry
between her and guitarist Colin Cripps, and second, everyone likes
a nice spot of Neil Young.
Meanwhile, on the bigger stages, we found all those American bands
which play a variation on prog-rock with high-pitched vocals, multiple
time signature changes, sumptuous keyboards and soaring melodies.
Well, that’s Yes, isn't it? It’s also the Polyphonic Spree
(whose impact was diminished in direct relation to their desire
to please), the Flaming Lips (who grabbed all this year’s festival
headlines on account of being themselves, but now more people have
belatedly discovered their beauty and charm) and, of course, California’s
Grandaddy.
This last band, having so comprehensively failed at SxSW, had pulled
themselves together to the extent that their performance was rated
by them, and the audience, as their best ever. Emotion hung heavily
in the air as even that awkward old sod Jason Lytle allowed himself
a few smiles. And Christ, were they loud. To think that this band
used to be famous for their quietness. Main stage next year, beyond
a doubt, and deservedly so.
REM were REM, David Gray was David Gray and Radiohead (so I understand)
were Radiohead. Really bad things: Do you know, there weren’t
any really bad things about Glastonbury 2003. Apart from Alison
Moyet, who has completely lost it.
Really good things: The charming inability of any Americans to pronounce
‘Glastonbury’. To a person (Wayne Coyne, Michael Stipe,
even Macy Gray), they invented a new form of fruit called a ‘Glastonberry’;
Mogwai, genuinely playing ‘Happy Songs For Happy People’
- who would have thought that?; David Gray’s magnificent observation
that, “It doesn’t matter where you are, it always makes
you feel better if you say ‘F**k Tony Blair’”; Captain
Sensible's equally magnificent observation: “F**k Radiohead”;
The Waterboys ‘Whole Of The Moon’, live in all its glory
on a sunny afternoon; and the fact that, when Yes’s bassist
John Squire brought out his triple-headed guitar, the entire audience,
instead of whispering “far out, man”, simply screamed
with laughter.
See you next year, 6 pm at the Cider Bus.
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Cache and Carry (9th July
2003)
The world’s first geocaching tournament will take place up
at Farley Mount on the 19th of this month. Max Jones gets technological
Geocaching is when things are hidden in ‘caches,’ then
the co ordinates of said item is placed on the geocache website.
When our geocacher is in that area, they put the co ordinates in
their global positioning system (GPS) and then find it.
One of the main advantages to this hobby is that people tend to
put their caches somewhere very nice. I spoke to David Pluntern,
a keen geocacher who is helping to co ordinate the event on the
19th. David is also a countryside warden up at Farley Mount. “Even
though I spend my life in the countryside, I have still found some
lovely spots through geocaching,” said David.
Popular in 177 countries, the hobby enables enthusiasts to see some
lovely spots all around the world aswell. If you are in, say, Kenya,
then you would look on www.geocache.com and click on Kenya. Then,
the co ordinates of any caches over there would come up, and you
could go and find them. The reach of this bizzare pastime is such
that there are even ten caches in Alaska!
On the 19th there will be 12 caches around the Farley Mount area.
There will be a control centre at Crab Wood, where NTL will be putting
on a live satellite link. There will also be some PCs there donated
for the night by Replay computers. So, people can look up the co
ordinates on these and then steam off into the darkness to find
them.
The unwritten rule of caching is that when you take out whatever
treats are left in the box, you put something back in. Anything
left has to be suitable for an unaccompanied child to find, so leave
that lager and heroin at home!
Each cache also contains a log book so that you can record your
fin. Every now and then there is also a thing called a Travel Bug.
The geocacher would then take this and put it in the next box they
uncovered. This way, its route around the world can be tracked.
There will be some GPS systems handed out as prizes on the night,
four from Garmen, and one from Geocache.uk. With prices starting
at around £100, and going up into the thousands, these are
quite a good prize! There will also be some GPS systems there for
people to borrow.
Hampshire County Council are the only authority in the country to
recognise the activity, and agree that it is a great way to get
families and others out into the country and enjoying this resource.
Anyone interested in this event can have a look at
www.geocaching.com or www.hants.gov.uk/geocaching.
There should be quite a few geocachers from all over the world at
the event on the 19th, so there is no doubt they will be able to
show any novices their way around.
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Green Anger (16th July
2003)
A group of protesters from the Bar End Meadow site came into town
last Friday to publicise their cause. By Max Jones
Two young protesters climbed up the Westgate, and sat on a ledge
holding a banner that said ‘honour thy spoken word.’ This
is a reference to the fact that the Bar End meadow site was given
to the people of Winchester in lieu of Twyford Down, which had a
motorway built through it.
Despite these promises, they are building an extension to the Park
and Ride car park on the meadows.
Another five protesters chained themselves to the fence of The Castle
council buildings. One trio was Arthur ‘King of the Druids’
Pendragon, Emily ‘The Green Goddess’ Edmonstone, and Ben
Tresham.
Emily and Ben took off their clothes, they were then whisked away
and cautioned by the police.
The police also cut free Arthur Pendragon and another brace of protestors,
Ollie and Cosmic. They all asked to be set free after deciding they
had made their point. Ollie was my favourite, as he had chained
himself to the fence the wrong way round, so he looked as if he
were sulking with the rest of his cohorts!
On Thursday evening there will be a meeting in St Lawrence Church
Hall, Colebrooke Street, which will be about saving the green heritage
of Winchester, and is specifically aimed at the young people of
the city. Starting at 8pm, one of the speakers will be Dr Caroline
Lucas M.E.P for the Green Party.
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Water Wonderful World
(16th July 2003)
The water watchdog, the Drinking Water Inspectorate held a press
conference in the Penguin Pool at Marwell Zoo near Winchester on
Wednesday (9/7/03) to announce that the standard of tap water in
England and Wales is at an all-time high.
The venue provided very visual evidence of ‘water working’
as the penguins swooshed and splashed enjoying their element to
the full.
The penguins also came onto the beach to drink a glass of water
that their keeper Gordon was offering.
Winchester is in the Southern Water region which also includes,
Chandlers Ford, Andover, Chandlers Ford and the Isle of Wight among
others. In the Southern Water region 99.89 per cent of samples met
the stringent Drinking Water Inspectorate Standards.
The Inspectorate’s 13th annual report, published last Wednesday,
revealed that 99.87% of more than 2.9 million tests carried out
in 2002 met all the national and EU standards, continuing the year-on-year
improvements since the Inspectorate was formed in 1990. In 2002,
the number of tests failing to meet the drinking water standards
was just 3,741, compared to nearly 37,000 ten years ago.
DWI’s new Chief Inspector, Jeni Colbourne said: “We have
one of the strictest drinking water safety regimes in the world,
and the tens of millions of people who drink tap water every day
are reaping the benefits.”
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Stabbing in Winchester (16th July 2003)
Some playing fields in normally placid Winchester took on the dimensions
of a horror film in the early hours of Sunday morning (6th July).
Max Jones Reports.
A group of people walking across the fields toward Garnier Road,
were approached from behind by two youths who began to abuse them
verbally.
One of the party was hit over the head with a bottle as they were
robbed by the youths. The group ran from their assailants and passed
another group of people on their way to the car park at the bottom
of St Catherine’s Hill.
Stabbed
One of their number, a girl, was attacked, and when her boyfriend
stood up for her he was punched, bitten repeatedly and then stabbed.
“The guy who did it was like a wild animal,” said a witness,
who would rather not be named. “He had a UV torch, which he
kept jabbing at people’s faces to blind them. He had a knife
attached to the underside of the torch, which he used to stab the
victim in the stomach, neck, face and head. He stabbed me in the
neck too.”
Blood
It was only when our witness got home that he discovered there was
blood all over his front, and that he had been stabbed in the neck.
He was very lucky not to have been seriously wounded.
The other victim spent two days in hospital where he received anti-tetanus
injections. This victim is lucky to be alive.
Drugs
The attackers were skinheads, who called themselves Harry and Andy.
They were described as being muscular and clearly under the influence
of drugs. “They would not stop moving,” said our witness,
“and they were absolutely mad - like rabid dogs”
Observer Comment: A question of public safety
When we approached the police about this stabbing incident (the
following day 7/7/03) they could not find anything about it in their
files. It was not until the following Thursday (10/7/03) and after
repeated probing, that that they got back to us and reported that
actually they did have a big file on the incident.
This file stated that the incident did indeed happen, but, as both
the victims eschewed police or ambulance aid, and did not want to
press charges, they were not going to take it any further.
It seems odd, though, that the public were not informed of this
danger as soon as possible and that these two maniacs are (as far
as we know) still on the loose. One cannot help but be concerned
when, following an attack as vicious as this, all police files on
the incident can somehow appear not to exist. Similarly, it is worrying
that, because - for whatever reason - the victim did not wish to
press charges, that no efforts will be made to bring the offending
pair to justice. Surely, if the police are to pick and choose the
cases to which they lend their time, the priority should go toward
cases such as these - cases where the public may still be at risk.
SL
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All
along the watch tower... (16th July 2003)
By Karen Barratt
Over the weekend I mounted a 24-hour vigil on the site of the
proposed Byron Avenue Orange phone mast. I did the same thing
last year and in July 2001.
During these marathon sessions, I have received hundreds of visitors
and countless messages of support, not just from the 400-plus
original objectors but also from similarly concerned people all
over the country.
So why do I do it? Sitting, alone, on a tiny patch of grass at
the top of my road is not my preferred way of spending the night.
The answer is simple. It is my way of sending a clear and unambiguous
message to Orange, who, even after two and a half years, seem
to have great difficulty understanding what this community is
telling them.
We do not want this mast which will put residents and the children
at Western Primary School at risk and we do not intend to have
it. Since the battle began in December 2000, campaigners, including
doctors, physicists, telecommunications experts, mathematicians,
lawyers, and planners have been dismissed as ill-informed and
irrational by the industry and government.
We do not understand the complex issues apparently. The problem
is we understand them too well. We know that, having received
£23 billion in licence fees, the Government has given unprecedented
powers to the private telecom companies at the expense of local
democracy. Ordinary people who have been the victims of health
disasters in the past, (asbestos, tobacco, BSE, thalidomide) are
not being told the truth about the biological risks of mobile
phone technology. While we wait for the decision on the Byron
Avenue mast, due in the week of 11 August, I will continue to
fight to end the chaotic situation in the siting of phone masts.
If the telecom companies really do need up to one hundred thousand
new masts for third generation phones, they must be prepared to
pay to site them away from schools, homes and hospitals, and not
go for the easy option of highways land, for which they pay absolutely
nothing.
Contact: Karen Barratt Tel: 01962 864388
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Good
Moos Week (23rd July 2003)
A cow in Cheriton near Winchester gave birth to triplets last week.
This is very rare, and what is rarer still is that all the baby
cows survived. (23rd July 2003)
Mark Cheney is the farmer at North End Farm, Cheriton. He is both
a dairy and an arable farmer. Mark said “I am in my mid forties
and I have never seen this, and nor has my father in law, or the
guy who does the milking. We have all heard of cows giving birth
to triplets before, but never when they survive.”
The sister and two brothers were all sired by a dad called Leadership.
The daughter is called Jet, but the two boys have yet to be named.
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Keeping An Eye On The Future
(23rd July 2003)
A local inventor has come up with a mobile eye scanner that will
cut doctor’s waiting lists and prevent people from going blind
prematurely.
Patrick Falvey from Hampshire has designed a retinal imaging system
for the Mobile Diabetic Eye Screening Unit, based in the Royal South
Hants Hospital, Southampton. Opthalmic imaging expert Patrick is
the managing director of ARC Optical Ltd, he was also diagnosed
as diabetic at 14 years of age and is well acquainted with this
illness.
Southampton’s retinal screening coordinator, Robin Davis said,
“The real benefit of the ARC system is the ease of image manipulation;
the ability to see recent pictures next to old ones enables us to
spot small changes in retinopathy.
Also, visiting patients at their local G.P. surgery, means fewer
appointments are missed.” Diabetic retinal screening consists
of photographing the fundus (back of the eye), to check for changes
in diabetic retinopathy. It is important that these changes are
monitored as if they remain untreated they can lead to blindness.
Patrick said “We started out by producing systems for optometrists
who were interested in capturing images of both the front and back
of the eye. The system’s high image quality out-performed others
in its class. The ARC software is also designed to interface easily
with the hospital’s existing database”.
ARC Optical still gets the majority of its business from optometrists.
However, the success of the Mobile Diabetic Eye Screening Unit has
generated fresh interest from other hospitals. ARC Optical are also
diversifying into ‘Practice Management’ software. Carleton
Optical Ltd, are now distributing the ARC Optical product range.
www.arcoptical.co.uk
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Northern Exposure (23rd
July 2003)
A Trip to the Faroe Islands is not one to be forgotten, as Sam
Leyden reports.
Tell someone you’re going to the Faroe Islands and you can
usually expect one of two responses. One is the look of surprise
– astonishment even - that such a place might rate as anyone’s
holiday destination. An inability to imagine how a few rocks known
here for their prolific production of fish - and, let’s face
it, almost nothing else - might have anything to offer the discerning
traveller.
If we are to call this the ‘Why’ response, then we might
well call the second one – characterised, usually, by a look
of utter blankness – the ‘where’ response or, perhaps,
even the ‘what’ response.
But let us deal with the preconceptions of the first. Situated in
the top end of the North Atlantic, a few small dots in the water
between Iceland and Norway, the Faroes, true enough, aren’t
your average summer retreat. At 200 miles to the nearest neighbour
(Scotland’s Shetland archipelago), these Danish-owned islands
are cut off from, and largely ignored by, the rest of Europe.
Out of sight, out of mind, then, you would think. But perhaps that
is part of the attraction. In actuality, the Faroes are as close
to us as Spain or Italy, yet they have been relatively untouched
by British Tourism. Do not, though, read untouched as unsuitable.
The Faroese tourist industry is alive and healthy - supported in
the main by Danish visitors – it’s just that we know relatively
little about it.
Outside peak season access to the islands can be difficult, with
Faroe-bound planes departing from Aberdeen just once or twice weekly.
Throughout the summer months, though, Atlantic Airways operates
an additional two flights per week from London Stansted, making
the Faroes an entirely viable option for British holidaymakers.
All flights arrive at Vágar Airport (on the island of the
same name), reputed to be the only spot in the whole of the Faroes
with enough level ground to support a runway, such is the ruggedness
of this country’s terrain.
For the Faroe Islands are, indeed, a country. While they still fall
within the kingdom of Denmark, since 1948 the Faroes have enjoyed
a Home Rule government, and, with their own banknotes, stamps and
even language (itself, a wonderful hybrid of Icelandic, Danish and
Norwegian), the Faroese people rightly regard themselves as a separate
nation.
It is then, that the Faroes can boast the (somewhat disputed) claim
of having the World’s smallest capital city. Tórshavn,
which houses a little over one third of the country’s 48,000
inhabitants, is now easily reached from the airport, thanks to a
recently opened road tunnel between the islands of Vágar
and Streymoy.
Tórshavn exists, in many respects, as an unlikely microcosm
of a European capital. The ingredients are all there - shops, bars,
museums, a park – but it is in the presentation that it gains
its individuality: the surrounding hills, the narrow lanes, the
colourful houses and, perhaps most remarkably, the incredible amount
of space. Almost without exception, the houses are low and detached,
with good size gardens surrounding, and often broken up by barren
patches of rock and greenery.
A stroll up to the lighthouse, or through the park to the Faroese
Art Gallery is always recommended, but for me the highlight had
to be Tinganes. From the lovely Hotel Tórshavn (where we
enjoyed a couple of nights), this tiny and picturesque peninsula
is almost on one’s doorstep. Separating the two harbours around
which Tórshavn is based, Tinganes is the site from which
the rest of Tórshavn has spread. With its miniature grass-roofed
houses, and narrow streets and passageways, it would be easy to
mistake Tinganes for some model village built for the tourists.
Yet the whole place is entirely genuine. The ancient buildings are
still inhabited, and the Løgting – the Faroese parliament
– meets here in a stunning wooden building at the end of the
peninsula.
Tórshavn is an excellent weekend destination. Unlike other
European Capitals, one does not have to spend hours travelling between
places of interest, and, with tours to most other parts of the country
departing from here, and so, as far as activities go, one is spoilt
for choice. For those staying a little longer, however, it is well
worth seeking out the far-flung corners of the islands for yourself.
The Faroes operate an incredibly efficient public transport network,
and so getting somewhere is not usually a problem. Buses zigzag
their way across the country, connecting with ferries to whisk you
off to the outer islands. For those really wishing to travel in
style, though, a trip on a helicopter is not to be missed. As several
communities on the Faroes are not linked by road, the helicopter
network is a lifeline for many inhabitants, and, reflective of this,
the cost of travel is remarkably low. And of course the ride itself
is an experience not to be forgotten. During our journey, from Tórshavn
to Klaksvík, we were rewarded with remarkable views over
the rugged landscape, and also a great insight into the bizarre,
localised weather system that operates. We departed Tórshavn,
amid low-slung cloud and hill fog, to be greeted, just 12 minutes
later, with a clear blue sky and townsfolk lounging around outside,
enjoying the sun!
Following a night in this colourful town, we caught the ferry over
to Leirvík on the island of Eysturoy. A bus, and then minibus,
took us from there to Gjógv, in the far north of the country.
Just travelling in this country can be a joy. The gaping fjords,
the towering cliffs, the tiny settlements – the ever changing
scenery provides all the entertainment you need.
Gjógv, like a great many Faroese villages, has less than
one hundred inhabitants. A few small houses clustered around a harbour,
huddled in the folds between bird-covered mountains – it’s
film set material. A trip to one of the more remote villages is
essential to any Faroese holiday. It presents the visitor with the
opportunity of coming just a little closer to understanding the
lives of these remote islanders. Gjógv should, I think, be
particularly recommended, as the youth hostel, styled on a traditional
Faroese residence, has an excellent balcony, from which one can
gaze down upon the ocean, marvelling at the near-permanent daylight
that characterises the Faroese summer.
With time running out, we moved on to the town of Vestmanna. If
you read any Faroese tourist guide, you will read about Vestmanna.
The Bird Cliffs, it would appear, are widely regarded as the highlight
of any Faroese holiday. Luckily, they live up to their reputation.
The English-speaking Gunnar Skúvadal runs excursions from
the harbour several times daily. His trips, lasting two hours, sail
right between the cliffs, and are guaranteed to take your breath
away. Skuas and terns circle above your head, puffins and guillemots
perch on nearby rocks, and, as the boat rock bobs in the Atlantic
waves, surely one of the most appreciated cups of coffee ever served.
I have mentioned before the localised and constantly changing weather
of the Faroes. The clouds, sun, wind and rain come and go –
we were prepared for that. What we were not prepared for was our
last day.. I’m not talking hot by Faroese standards (July average
is 11ºc), but a genuine, hot, shorts-and-T-shirts day. On recommendation,
we headed to Saksun, a village on the west coast, with a population
of less than forty, and, we were told, a beach.
And what a beach! From the village, a path descends to an enormous
tidal lake. Waterfalls cascade down the sides of the surrounding
cliffs, and a channel flows up to the lake from the Atlantic. A
little way along the bank of this river, luscious green hills rising
straight up from either side, you emerge onto the most incredible
beach I have ever come across. The clear waters lapping at the steep
sides of mountains, while sheep graze away happily on the near-vertical
cliff edge. The near-black, volcanic sand bakes your feet. One suspects
that, were the Faroes ever to brand themselves as hot summer destination,
this would surely be their front page photo. Sunbathing and swimming
were not, I recall, on our itinerary at the start of the trip.
Prior to taking this trip, I had made the assumption that a week
would be more than enough time to explore the Faroes. Even as a
self-confessed ‘enthusiast’ for such destinations, there’s
only so much you can do, I assumed. Yet now I realise how little,
relatively speaking, we actually managed to fit in. Out of a possible
eighteen islands, we visited five. We never visited the magnificent
bird colonies of Mykines, never climbed the mountain of Enniberg
to take in the view from the highest sea-cliffs in the world (750
metres). What we did do, though, and what we did see, was entirely
unique and utterly stunning. And perhaps most amazing of all, it
didn’t rain all week!
For details of flights to the Faroes, or package tours, visit the
Atlantic Airways website, at www.atlantic.fo
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Different Strokes (23rd July 2003)
Observer fans will remember that we featured Winchester masseuse
Suzannna Rowson a few weeks ago. Suzanna plies her trade up at the
tennis club, as well as making home visits. By Max Jones.
One of the massages on offer is baby massage and this aroused my
interest . Suzanna teaches parents how to massage their children.
The massage helps the babies to sleep better by easing muscle tensions
and relaxing them.
I asked Suzanna if she would go and visit my friends Paul and Ali,
who have a beautiful baby daughter, called Ava.
“It was wonderful,” said Ali. “Suzanna taught me
how to massage Ava, and it really works. Ava has been a lot more
relaxed ever since the treatment, and seems to sleep a lot better
now.”
The idea is that the mother or father learns the ropes, as otherwise
the baby associates Suzanna with being relaxed, and may not want
to go back to mum!
Suzanna can be contacted on 0778 862869.
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Swinging In The Rain (30th July 2003)
A bevy of celebrities pitched up to South Winchester Golf Club in
the rain last Friday (25/7/03) to play a round of golf in aid of
the SPARKS charity. Sparks raise money for medical research into
issues that affect children. They believe that all children should
be given a healthy start in life. By Max Jones.
The tournament is known as the Sir Henry Cooper Classic, and the
great man himself was there. Another celebrity who turned up was
P.H Moriarty, most famous for his role as Horrible Hatchet Harry
in Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Even though both of these
guys could rip you limb from limb in the bat of an eyelid, they
were both very amenable.
It is a shame the same cannot be said of another ‘celebrity,’
and chairman of Sparks, Dennis Waterman. I asked Dennis if he would
pose with Sir Henry Cooper in a pugilistic stance. Dennis told me
to f**k off and said “I don’t do anything tacky.”
Has anyone ever seen ‘Minder’? Then we followed him out
to the first tee, in the rain, to take a picture. Dennis regaled
us with an amusing story of how he once punched a photographer,
and how much he hates snappers.
Never mind, I went back indoors to have a chat with that nice Jimmy
Hill. Jimmy and his cohorts play golf for SPARKS on a regular basis.
“Golf is something I love, and it is a very good way to raise
money for charity,” said Jimmy, as he sipped a tea and munched
on a salmon and scrambled egg bagel. The day at South Winchester
Golf Club is expected to raise between 18 and 20 thousand pounds
for the charity.
There was to be an auction in the evening, selling a whole host
of sporting memorabilia. The highlight of the auction, to my mind,
were a pair of boxing gloves signed by Sir Henry Cooper, one of
the only men to put Mohammad Ali down.
After breakfast and coffee, the celebrities joined their teams to
go and play a few holes, in the pouring down rain. “ I don’t
care about the rain, it is just nice to get out and play a round,”
said Jimmy Hill.
Each celebrity joined a team of three ‘civilians’ for
the round, expected to last around five hours each. Looking at the
weather, I expect the 19th hole will be very welcome!
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Council meeting collapses
as disorder ensues (30th July 2003)
Winchester City Council faced a deluge of protest last week from
a broad coalition of environmental activists, local residents and
others, who vehemently oppose the Council’s redevelopment of
the Bar End Meadows site. This site was ‘given back’ to
the people of Winchester as compensation for the Twyford Down development,
but is currently being converted into an extension of Winchester’s
park and ride scheme.
The protesters, who have recently courted controversy with their
use of somewhat unorthodox publicity methods, resorted to more conventional
channels last Wednesday to voice their frustration and anger. At
a meeting of WCC, the protesters - who have been tagged by many
as adversarial, confrontational and irrational - presented petitions
to the council, in a bid to challenge some of these misconceptions.
It is widely believed within the coalition that the use of the petition
confers additional legitimacy on their movement. Leading figures
from the campaign presented their petitions, with statements, to
assembled councillors and members of the public. Their statements
were received, alongside supportive cheers from many members of
the movement, with jeers of derision from some members of the Council.
Emily Edmonston, known by many as the ‘Green Goddess’
(she has made a feature of attending protests daubed head-to-toe
with green paint), spoke on behalf of Winchester’s young citizens,
describing the redevelopment as ‘wanton and greedy destruction’.
She urged the city council to prevent Hampshire County Council from
continuing with the scheme. Stressing that the movement was ‘not
opposed to the scheme of park and ride in general’, she suggested
that a site in Winnall, where they were already ‘unused parking
spaces’, would be more suitable, and rejected the council’s
proposition that land at Magdalen Down would make an appropriate
substitute. Citing the area’s inaccessibility, and the fact
that Magdalen Hill is already in public ownership, she labelled
the proposal as ‘absolutely ridiculous’.
Edmonston also rebutted claims made by the council that only one
third of the land is to be used for park and ride, describing such
statements as ‘disgracefully misleading and disingenuous’.
She asserted that the council should be obliged to provide a written
statement containing their justification for the choice of the Bar
End site. In an impassioned plea to the assembled, she urged the
council to take into account the views of young people, whom she
said were the ‘inheritors of the actions you [the council]
take today’.
Her sentiments were echoed by local resident and community leader
Alan Weekes, who made the evening’s second statement with the
backing of a variety of local pressure groups. He evoked the literary
associations of the area (it is widely believed to be the setting
for John Keats’ ‘Ode to Autumn’) and the location’s
varied ecology as primary reasons for the flawed nature of the council’s
policy. In a cogent and sustained critique of the council’s
plans, he stressed the value placed on the area by local residents,
and accused the council of reneging on its previous agreements with
citizens. In a bold departure from the narrow aims of the campaign,
he also inferred a breakdown in trust between the council and local
people over issues as diverse as new homes in northern Winchester,
new developments in the city centre and support housing schemes
in Stanmore and Highcliffe. These wide-ranging and far-reaching
allegations were met with rapturous applause from the audience.
Amidst calls for immediate answers to their questions, Winchester’s
mayor stated that the concerns of the two petitioners would be addressed
at the next meeting of the council’s ‘cabinet’. This
failed to satisfy activists and members of the public, with one
vocal member of the audience shouting, ‘you’re all here,
do it now!’, to the sound of ascent from many others. Angered
by the refusal of the Council to address their concerns immediately,
many of those activists proceeded to empty out of the public gallery,
descending into the seating reserved for councillors. Here, they
occupied vacant places whilst continuing their verbal protests.
Such was the state of disruption created, that the Mayor, presiding
over the meeting, felt forced to call a five minute adjournment.
Despite a plea by one councillor to meet the demands of the protestors,
attempts to dissuade the protestors from barracking councillors
failed, and, in response to this, the meeting was brought to an
abrupt close.
By Tom Lacey
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Club a go-go? (30th July
2003)
Winchester may soon have its own major music venue. How? Max Jones
reports
When I first came down to Winchester, years ago, it seemed to be
a ‘lights out at eleven’ kind of place. People lurked
around looking for something to do after the pub, generally failing
dismally.
All sorts of conspiracy theories abounded as to why no one could
find anything to do after closing time. My favourite was people
who said " we can’t have a club because we are a cathedral
city." Does London have no good clubs because of St Pauls?
Does Liverpool languish without a club scene because of its own
cathedral?
Anyway, the city seems to be picking up now, with a number of late
night venues, but still nothing that can be described as a ‘club.’
Enter local impresarios Harvey Simmonds and Dan Prince, who have
plans for a super club as part of the new Friarsgate development
at the bottom of town.
" I think it is important to stress that it is to be more of
an entertainment venue than just a nightclub," said Harvey.
It does sound great. During the week there are plans for a whole
array of musical genres. Samba and other forms of Latin American
music, jazz, reggae, national bands doing launches. With a potential
capacity of 1500+ it could easily become a major venue for the south.
Imagine the many and varied benefits of a major venue on your doorstep;
no more having to do battle with the last train back from Portsmouth
or trying to find a cab in Southampton just to go to a gig.
"A lot of clubs nowadays are specifically for the young, whereas
we are intending on catering for all age groups. People in their
thirties and forties can like music too," said Harvey.
The pair, and their business partners, have put their plans for
the £2 million development into the council, and are hoping
to get an answer by September or October.
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Reflections on Light
(30th July 2003)
Delighted artists gathered for a private viewing of The Brooks Shopping
Centre Annual Art Competition Exhibition on Tuesday 22nd July which
was attended by Councillor Therese Evans, Portfolio Holder for the
Community and the Arts, Deputy Leader of the Council and a past
Mayor.
The theme for this year’s competition was ‘LIGHT’
and the interpretations of this subject were many and varied. Marilyn
Michaelowicz and Sharon Armstrong-Williams from Winchester City
Council judged the competition and chose six winners - Derek Snowdon,
Amanda Axtell, Constance Page, Amy Seymour, Paul Richards, Jan Kirby,
three highly commended entries - Sarah Maccario, Dave Miles and
Angus Vine and one Young Person's Prize awarded to Antonia Ede.
Six of the winning or highly commended artists will be the lucky
recipients of a specialist Art Workshop to be held at the prestigious
Lainston House Hotel in August and Therese Evans congratulated them
all on their interesting and talented work. Over 100 pieces of work
were submitted for judging and a selection of them are on display
together with the winners' artwork in the Music at Winchester Box
Office on Upper Parking at The Brooks. The Exhibition is open Monday
to Friday from 10am to 5pm and Saturday from 10am to 1pm and Wessex
Cancer Trust will benefit from 5% of the sale price of any of the
pictures sold.
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