Bristol Arena: A Symphony of Incompetence, Now With Added "Oops, We Forgot Planning Permission!"
YTL are saying they are building a 19,500 capacity arena, but don't have planning permission for that.
(Credit: YTL)
Well, here we go again. In a city noted for such famous comedy showbiz names, such as Russell Howard, Lee Evans, Mark Watson, and Stephen Merchant, this city is certainly one for breeding talent. Let’s not also forget it’s a city of vibrant street art, breathtaking suspension bridges, and a civic planning record that could make a drunken toddler organising a sock drawer look like a seasoned logistics expert. And what better way to illustrate this glorious tradition of delightful ineptitude than the ‘Frank Spencer’ type scripting of the painfully awaited Bristol Arena?
For those blissfully unaware (lucky you!), the Bristol Arena has been the city's equivalent of a perpetually malfunctioning clown car for, well, decades. We've had location changes, design changes, budget overruns that would make a Roman emperor blush, and now, the pièce de résistance: they appear to have forgotten the tiny, insignificant detail of... planning permission.
Yes, you read that right. In a move that would make even the most seasoned bureaucratic bungler raise an eyebrow, it’s emerged that the developers, YTL, might have skipped the whole "getting permission to actually build the thing" stage. It’s like ordering a pizza without telling them you want dough, sauce, or cheese. Just a box of… aspirations. Maybe they just don’t do stuff like seek permission to build in the Federal Territory of Kuala Lumpur, where the YTL HQ is.
Imagine the conversation:
"So, we've got the design, the contractors, the budget... anything else?"
"Nah, we're good. Let's just start digging. Planning permission? Is that like... a suggestion box?"
This, my friends, is Bristol in a nutshell. We're a city that prides itself on its creativity and "alternative" spirit. But sometimes, that spirit translates to "we'll figure it out later, probably while drinking cider."
Act 1: The Promise of Glory (and Traffic Jams)
Years ago, the city decided, "Hey, we need an arena! Think of the concerts! The sporting events! The… well, the increased traffic around Temple Meads!" The location was chosen: a prime spot near the train station, perfect for… well, nothing, apparently.
Act 2: The Great Location Debate (and More Traffic Jams)
Suddenly, a plot twist! "Actually," whispered someone in a suit, "maybe we should build it somewhere else. Like, near Cribbs Causeway, where the only thing you can hear is the sweet, sweet sound of consumerism and the M5." Chaos ensued. Public meetings became gladiatorial combat. Opinions were as varied as the number of half-finished Banksy murals in Stokes Croft.
Act 3: The Temple Meads Resurrection (and Even More Traffic Jams)
After years of wrangling, back to Temple Meads we went! "It's the right place!" they declared, with the kind of confidence usually reserved for people who think pineapple belongs on pizza. "It'll be amazing!" Before moving the whole shebang out into a neighbouring county that’s, well, kind of Bristol-ish.
Act 4: The "Oops, We Forgot Planning Permission" Crescendo
And now, dear readers, we arrive at the pièce de résistance, the cherry on top of this magnificent cake of bureaucratic blunders: it turns out they forgot to apply for planning permission.
Yes, you read that right. In the grand, operatic drama that is the Bristol Arena - that is no longer technically in Bristol, the developers, like a group of enthusiastic toddlers building a Lego castle without instructions, completely overlooked the tiny, insignificant detail of, you know, asking if they were allowed to build it. Ah well, it’s only a few million quid down the swanny so far in, you know, costs.
You see. So far, the Bristol Arena is rather like planning a surprise party for your neighbour, buying all the decorations, hiring a bouncy castle, and then remembering you hate your neighbour and they have a restraining order against you. Other than this, what’s the problem?
How does this happen? Is it the Bristol water? Are we all suffering from a collective, city-wide case of amnesia? Are the planning documents being stored in a filing cabinet somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle of the local Council's offices? Personally speaking, I like to think of it as a communication issue between Bristol Council (where the plans were first almost finalised) and South Gloucester Council, the new Arena champions. Instead of using normal post or even a courier, it was decided to teleport all documents pertaining to the Arena by means of a clairvoyant who has since lost all his or her powers to a spin-off sect of the Rosicrucians of Malaysia, and no one knows where they are in the ether exactly. Don’t these people have fax machines?
Bristol's History of "Creative" Planning
This, of course, isn't an isolated incident. Bristol has a long and storied history of planning mishaps that would make even the most hardened cynic raise an eyebrow.
The MetroBus Fiasco: Remember the MetroBus? The "rapid, well-planned transit system" that was neither rapid nor particularly well-planned? It's a testament to our city's ability to turn a simple bus route into a decade-long saga of roadworks and confusion.
The Perpetual Roadworks: Bristol's roads are in a constant state of "improvement," which usually involves digging them up, leaving them for a year, and then putting the tarmac back down slightly askew.
The Clean Air Zone Debacle: A valiant effort to improve air quality, hampered by technical glitches, confusing signage, and a general sense of "we'll figure it out as we go."
What's Next?
Who knows! Maybe they'll find the planning application in a dusty drawer marked "Things We'll Get Around To Eventually." Maybe they'll decide to build the arena out of recycled MetroBus parts. Maybe they'll just give up and turn the site into a giant, interactive art installation called "The Monument to Bristol's Planning Incompetence."
One thing is certain: the Bristol Arena saga will continue to provide endless entertainment and a steady stream of material for comedians and frustrated citizens alike.
So, if, by chance, any professional comedians are venturing into the city to work at any point in the near future, I’m way ahead of you, and here are a few jokes on me to start you off:
"So, I heard they're building an arena in Bristol. It's going to be amazing once they find out where they put the blueprints and if they have the right to build on the land. I mean, they're probably looking for the planning permission right now; I think they left it in the same place as the metro mayor train."
"Bristol Arena. It's like a metaphor for my love life. Years of planning, high hopes, and then... nothing. Just an empty space where something amazing was supposed to be."
"I tried to get tickets for the Bristol Arena's grand opening, but they said it's 'pending planning permission.' So, basically, I've got the same chance of seeing a show there as I have of winning the lottery and being hit by a bus on the same day, a Bristol bus, of course, which means it will be late."
"They say the arena is going to bring in loads of tourists. I can't wait to see them all queuing up, confused, asking 'Where's the arena?' and being met with a shrug and a 'We're still figuring that out, mate.'"
"I went to a Bristol council meeting about the arena. It was like watching a group of toddlers trying to assemble IKEA furniture. Nobody knew what they were doing, and everyone blamed each other."
Not my best work, I’ll admit. But it’s a start. Unlike the Arena.
This, my friends, is Bristol in a nutshell. We're a city that prides itself on its creativity and "alternative" spirit. But sometimes, that spirit translates to "we'll figure it out later, probably while drinking cider."
The Moral of the Story?
Bristol, we love you. We really do. But for the love of all that is holy, can we please just get something right for once? Maybe, just maybe, hire someone who knows how to fill out a planning application. Or, better yet, just embrace the chaos and turn the arena site into a giant, interactive art installation titled "The Monument to Bureaucratic Ineptitude." It would be fitting.
Meanwhile, grab your popcorn, Bristol. This show is far from over. And remember, if you ever feel like you're having a bad day, just think about the Bristol Arena. At least you remembered to apply for planning permission before building your garden shed. You did, didn’t you?
