Wealth rules. It makes the world in its own image.
I’m sitting on one of
the benches overlooking the golf course, by the railway bridge at the
end of West Cliff, as I’m writing this. It’s a lovely late summer
morning, with just a hint of autumn in the air.
What I’m looking at are
three buildings that look like medieval fortresses.
Maybe you’ve seen them.
They sit at the junction of Island Wall and Saxon Shore, as if
guarding the entrance to the golf course, three large statements in
glass and stone, wholly out of keeping, in style and scale, with the
buildings that surround them.
They are still in the
process of being built. One is finished, and is already furnished and
decorated like a show home, the other two are in various states of
Who gave planning
permission for these monstrosities? Who thought it was appropriate,
in our little town, to allow these gross, ugly, oversized…
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