#Bristol - Is Bristol Under New Management... or New Lunacy?

Bristol's Green Dream or a Monster Raving Nightmare?

Oh dear me. The more I read and hear about Bristol City council's Green Party leadership, the more I believe they're the reincarnation of the Monster Raving Loony Party, and David Sutch has somehow rebirthed into L Pondweed (aka Ed Plowden). The sheer audacity of their proposals, the seeming disregard for practicalities, and the almost theatrical flair with which they present their ideas, all conjure up images of top hats, rosette-covered blazers, and policies designed to elicit more bewildered laughter than serious consideration. One can almost picture them unveiling their latest scheme with a flourish, a wink, and a resounding "Vote Loony!"

Now that I have your attention, and perhaps a chuckle or two, let's delve into the recent happenings at City Hall under the Green Party's guidance. While I appreciate their environmental focus in principle, some of the recent decisions and approaches have left me scratching my head, wondering if we've inadvertently elected a cabinet more concerned with whimsical notions than pragmatic governance. Just when you thought the rollercoaster proposals were the peak of park-based innovation, our Bristol Green Party has seemingly unveiled the next level of visionary planning! Forget the noisy thrills and the potential for actual human visitors; the future of our parks, it appears, lies in embracing profound, almost spiritual levels of emptiness.

Inspired, no doubt, by the resounding success of the Low Traffic Neighbourhood (LTN) schemes in reducing vehicular congestion (and occasionally, it seems, all other forms of movement), the council is now poised to introduce the revolutionary Low Footfall Neighbourhood (LFN) initiative for our green spaces. The core principle is breathtaking in its simplicity: if you want to truly appreciate nature, you need to… well, not be there. Imagine our parks transformed into pristine, human-free havens. No more boisterous picnics, no more dog walkers, no more the distracting presence of… people. Just the gentle sway of the grass, the silent bloom of wildflowers, and the profound, undisturbed tranquillity of a truly abandoned space. Think of it as an exercise in radical rewilding, but specifically targeting the human element.

And what, you might ask, is the ultimate goal of this bold move towards park-based desertion? Why, to pave the way for an unprecedented expansion of allotments, of course! With the parks blissfully devoid of annoying visitors, vast swathes of land will become available for cultivating organic goodness. And what will be the star crop of this horticultural revolution? You guessed it: kale! Picture the scene: Bristol's parks, once vibrant community spaces, will morph into sprawling kale plantations. This isn't just about healthy eating; it's about a groundbreaking new business venture! The council, having previously and spectacularly failed in other business ventures, such as energy management, has discovered its newfound abundance in organically grown kale, will launch a city-wide smoothie empire! Forget your corner cafes; the future is "Park-to-Pulp," offering the freshest, most locally sourced (from literally right there!) green smoothies imaginable.

Hold onto your picnic blankets, Bristolians, because a seismic shift is brewing in our beloved green spaces! Our visionary Green Party, never ones to let a perfectly good park just be a park, are embarking on a bold new quest: turning them into revenue-generating powerhouses of excitement. Yes, you read that right. Forget the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant happy yelps of dogs; prepare for a park experience so thrilling, it might just require a small surcharge. The master plan, hatched by a newly formed cross-party working group (presumably fueled by the sheer audacity of the idea), involves brainstorming ways to inject some much-needed cash into our parks.

Advertising and sponsorship? Fair enough, maybe we'll soon be enjoying our woodland walks brought to you by "Dave's Discount Drainage." But it's the tantalising prospect of "exciting activities" that truly sets the pulse racing (and perhaps loosens the purse strings). One can only speculate on the nature of these adrenaline-pumping park pastimes. Will we see competitive croquet with laser pointers? Perhaps synchronised kite flying judged on artistic merit and aerial acrobatics? Or maybe, in a nod to our maritime heritage, high-speed duck racing on the pond (bets encouraged, naturally)? The possibilities are as boundless as the Ashton Court Estate itself!

The master plan, still being lovingly crafted by the cross-party working group (rumoured to now include a former rollercoaster engineer and a consultant specialising in queue management), involves brainstorming ways to inject some serious oomph into our parks. Advertising and sponsorship? Quaint. Paid-for "exciting activities"? Child's play. The whispers now circulating speak of something far more… ambitious. Imagine: instead of a gentle meander through Leigh Woods, you could be strapped into the "Avon Gorge Abseiler," a heart-stopping vertical descent with stunning (if fleeting) views. Forget feeding the ducks on the Downs; prepare for the "Suspended Swan Soarer," a high-speed zip line experience guaranteed to ruffle some feathers. And Ashton Court? Forget restoring the mansion with mere activity fees; the latest proposal allegedly involves a full-scale rollercoaster looping dramatically around the deer park – perhaps aptly named "The Fallow Flyer."

The possibilities, once merely "exciting," are now bordering on the theme park absurd. Will Brandon Hill soon boast the "Cabot Tower Twister," a spinning teacup ride with historical significance vaguely alluded to in the safety briefing? Could St. George Park be reimagined as "St. George's Splash," featuring log flumes that inconveniently empty directly into the bandstand? One can almost envision the marketing slogans: "Bristol Parks: Get Your Thrill On – Responsibly!"

And speaking of Ashton Court, this whole endeavour has a noble goal: restoring its magnificent mansion. So, while you're queuing up for the "Extreme Frisbee Golf" experience (price: £5.99, BYO helmet), just remember you're contributing to the greater good. Think of it as a civic duty disguised as fun! Forget bake sales and charity runs; the future of historical preservation lies in monetising our leisure time with thrilling, yet-to-be-defined, park-based entertainment. The beauty of the LFN scheme is its elegant synergy with the "exciting activities" proposal. After a thrilling ride on the "Ashton Court Abseiler" or a dizzying spin on the "Cabot Tower Twister," what better way to recover than with a hyper-local, ultra-organic kale smoothie, grown just a few feet away from the screaming rollercoaster enthusiasts (if any still dare to venture into these increasingly desolate landscapes)?

Of course, our Green representatives, paragons of inclusivity, assure us that accessibility remains a top priority. How this noble aspiration will harmonise with the introduction of paid-for "exciting activities" remains a delightful mystery. Perhaps we'll see a tiered system: "Basic Birdwatching" (free), versus "Enhanced Magpie Spotting Experience with Binocular Rental" (premium). Or maybe designated "Excitement Zones" will pop up, requiring a ticket for entry, while the rest of us can continue to enjoy the park in its traditional, albeit potentially less stimulating, form. It's a bit like saying, "Fresh air for everyone, but the really fresh air costs extra."

The Green Party, ever the champions of balance, will no doubt assure us that there will still be areas for quiet contemplation – perhaps strategically located near the gift shops and fast-food outlets. And accessibility? Maybe they'll offer discounted "Gentle Grass Gazing" passes for those who prefer a less… intense park experience.

Critics might argue that parks are meant for people. But the Green Party, with its unwavering commitment to innovative solutions, will likely counter that true appreciation comes from afar. Besides, think of the reduced noise pollution! The enhanced biodiversity (of kale varieties, at least)! And the sheer, unadulterated peace of knowing that your local park is thriving… even if you're not allowed in it.

So, Bristol, prepare for a future where your parks are less about picnics and more about photosynthesis. Where the only footprints you'll see are those of the dedicated kale harvesters. And where your daily dose of greens will be sourced from the very spaces that were once intended for… well, you. It's a bold vision, a truly low footfall vision, and one that promises to make Bristol a true leader in… abandoned park-based organic smoothie production. Cheers to that! (Said from a safe distance, of course).

Prepare for a wild ride. Your leisurely stroll in the park might soon involve navigating queues, securing ride harnesses, and potentially screaming at the top of your lungs. The future of our green spaces is looking… surprisingly vertical. Just remember to pack your sunscreen and maybe a sick bag – you never know what "exciting" new attraction awaits around the next bend. Just try not to trip over the bungee cords while you're enjoying the expanded Blaise Plant Nursery's latest offering: the limited-edition "Excitement-inducing Evergreen."

And so, dear Bristolians, as you contemplate the vertiginous kale-smoothie-powered rollercoaster of our park's future, remember: in the grand tapestry of local governance, sometimes the threads of logic get tangled with the yarn of pure, unadulterated lunacy.

Perhaps, next election, when you find yourself standing before the ballot box, a gentle reminder: if a candidate proposes replacing all bus shelters with giant bouncy castles, or suggests funding public services by selling "locally sourced moonbeams," just double-check the party manifesto. You might just be voting for a Monster Raving Loony in disguise. And while a "Suspended Swan Soarer" does sound rather thrilling, perhaps a sane council is a thrill in itself? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to plant some kale on the roof of the Cabot Tower, just in case. After all, one can never be too prepared. You've been warned!