Demolition - the beginning!

Alice's bungalow and Amnesty International ...

2008-07-19T23:27:00.000-07:00

Sunday 20th July

It's a while now since I blogged - a little buzz of activity in our social life! Still no sign of action on the building site - I may have caused more upheaval to the developers than I first thought - yippeee! Time for more history I think ...

When we first moved here (26 years ago) Alice's bungalow was occupied by a couple that looked in their early thirties and two dogs (or so we thought). They kept themselves to themselves, venturing out daily to walk the dogs. It didn't seem as if either went out to work, but no-one in the village really knew because they always avoided eye contact and thus the need for neighbourly courtesies like conversation. Thinking back, they did seem quite sinister at times. I can remember inventing little life scenarios for them, but actually I didn't even know if they were partners or brother and sister. They were about the same height, slim, both wore glasses and they looked like their dogs (you know that weird thing when owners start to look like their pets). They were both also very pale, which we attributed to the fact that they hardly ever came outside. Other than the daily dog walks, their only notable outing was an annual tour of the village to leave collection envelopes for amnesty international (there is an irony here that will be revealed). We never saw them make the "drop" and the collection was always quick and business-like, so no opportunity for chit-chat!

I can't remember how long they were here, never knew their names and never properly spoke to them, even though I am by nature quite friendly, more than a little curious (nosey?) and would have tried to engage them on "amnesty day". I will try and find out exactly how long they stayed (someone will know), but it was several years - maybe as many as five or six. Anyway, at some point they must have gone because Alice and family appeared. The ghastly irony then emerged ...

The reason that they didn't go to work was because their work was at home - they were the two paid carers of the elderly gentleman who owned the bungalow (a relative of Alice). No-one had ever seen him and it appears that he had been little more than a prisoner (amnesty international?) in his own home! We were all shocked. Supposition and speculation on the poor old fellow's plight rippled round the village for some time, as did speculation on the whereabouts of the odd couple. All we ever really found out was that, once in, the so-called carers took over the bungalow and consigned the old man to bed, where he eventually died. They then apparantly called emergency services and disappeared! To this day no-one seems to know who they were nor how they managed to hide him away for so long.

By the way, the sun has just come out, but it's not very warm for July, even by British summer standards. Off to make breakfast - feeling hungry. More later ...

Interlude - first history lesson

2008-07-12T06:29:00.000-07:00

Saturday 12th July

It's another un-summery week-end so not much is happening outside. I thought it might be a good opportunity to fill you in with life in Alice's bungalow. It will take time and I might have to stop if anything starts to happen. But for now the blog will be historical so you can skip it if that's not your thing.

The bungalow is in a truly beautiful spot - high up with views to die for (click here and you can see it in the photograph). One snag though - we have a busy road running through our village, which passes just below the bottom of Alice's garden. But what is a snag for us is a developer's dream - easy access from a pretty village to the main road networks for London and the South Coast (a little clue for you ...). There are three bungalows altogether, and ever since I have lived here (over twenty years), they have all had "unusual" occupants. The first planning application was to knock all three down and replace them with fifteen houses. Even the developers knew that this was ambitious, but aim high and then the compromise looks good. There is also the small matter of local policy that requires community housing as part of any development of over 14 homes. That application was duly kicked into touch, with more than a little help from the village and surprisingly little resistance from the developers.

A few negotiations later and we learn (unofficially) that they have struck a deal with bungalow three (the one to the left of the photograph of Alice's disorganised rubble) to suspend that application for now and go for the remaining two. The official line is that bungalow three have pulled out and wish to see out their retirement as a lonely reminder of what was, amongst a housing development where their neighbours used to be. The widely-held village interpretation is that they have got into bed even further with the developers and are:
a) holding out for more cash (no judgement - times are hard); and
b) involved in a conspiracy to secure the fifteen homes as two separate planning proposals.
Hence, the renewed application eventually appears for the demolition of two bungalows and proposed replacement with ten new homes. The maths isn't difficult (isn't the density the same?). What changes is the need for community housing and the impact of vehicles from the new homes on the surrounding area. Ten seems so much better than fifteen. Bungalow three aren't minded to object to this, even though the development really is in their front yard!
The village duly resists and the developers fight back this time. Lots to play for on both sides. Various appeals and one public inquiry later - a whole blog possibility here, and the approval is given. We have lost.

I have also lost my way with this post, so back to Alice, or rather Alice's bungalow - later!

Day 4: A damp squid

2008-07-11T13:40:00.000-07:00

Friday 11th July

I didn't sleep well last night. The thought of Alice's recycling has been playing on my mind. In that half-sleep state I decided that the bungalow needed to regenerate and that the missing bits in my hoover bag would spoil it all - too much Dr Who? It's morning and I need to wake myself up - surely the lorries will show and that'll do it? No such luck, so it's off to work with a sideways look at the neat piles behind the big metal fence. I can't get excited about much this morning - too tired! During the day I remember that the enforcement officer has been round and, with a bit of luck , I will still have time to ring him after work. This gets me thinking that the sooner I get to my next lesson, the sooner I get home, which is rubbish because the school day finishes when it finishes. I still rush.

Home at last, where a quick dash to the phone is all I can think about. So much so that I almost miss the latest happening. What's this? Something colourful has caught my eye. There on the previously bare and menacing metal barrier is a bright, cheery board - declaring all behind it a "demolition site"! Would never have guessed! Various other bits of health and safety advice also loom large, and warnings about hard hats. Ummm.... I am starting to wonder about enforcement.

To the phone and he's there. He's pleased to inform me that he has visited the site and yes, there have been some irregularities. Health and safety require clear signs etc etc etc . I grit my teeth, stifle the yawn and wait for him to finish, but to my amazement he is now talking about compliance and tree protection. This is getting interesting. We had a good conversation and the man and his office are quite possibly more than the damp squid I had them down for. To cut a long story short (I'm tired), the demolition is not quite unlawful, since demolition is not the same as building - a grey area (like our dust-covered house). However, they do need to submit and gain approval for their proposed solutions to the compliance conditions put on the planning consent (including tree protection, dust control, lorry parking, unloading and lots more), before they start any construction. The good news is that the environmental health department can enforce dust containment during demolition, so I will email them asap (there is still one bungalow to go). He thanks me for contacting his office and asks me to keep an eye on the site - especially the trees. I don't mind that the oaks have more rights than me - they will be here long after I have gone.

All in all, a good day. I have made a friend, have a legitimate reason to spy and may yet get our windows cleaned.

"Health & safety signs"

Day 3: Sunshine & ... no showers!

2008-07-10T10:55:00.000-07:00

Thursday 10th July

This morning the sun is shining and I woke myself up. What - no lorries! Mysteriously quiet, even at the 8.00 am "get set, go!". I left for work at peace and wondering what I might find on my return. I noted the ease with which I manouvred out of my road and as I drove past Alice's rubble, taking a mental picture of it, I wondered if it would still be there when I got home. Against all logic, and quite unexpectedly, I started to feel a sense of (almost) excitement. This is a surprise.

On my way home I started to wonder again what I would find and was a little disappointed to drive into the same peace and quiet that I drove out of this morning. Alice's rubble is on a bend, so I couldn't see it right away. But then I am there and the excitement really starts. First, I notice the car, parked outside of the big metal fences that they put up for health, safety and security (I am reliably informed). It's not a developer's car (too old and not a Porsche, Jenson or Ferrari - I know I risk sounding a touch avaricious, but I am only reporting facts!). Then I notice that something has happened to the rubble. It's organised! Large piles of broken brick, wood, glass and what I can only describe as "sundries" are neatly stacked where the great pile of general debris was this morning. I am impressed! Now I am looking for a motive. I cannot really believe that they are "green", so it must be money. On reflection, I suppose the two are not mutually exclusive, so I imagine Alice's old bungalow is about to be recycled.

Now to the really good bit! Indoors the answerphone is bleeping and I have a message to ring the planning enforcement office. Impressed again! I call immediately, and guess what? The planning officer is out on a site visit to see for himself! The car! I rush out to grab him, but too late - he has gone. I have to wait till tomorrow ...

"Alice's organised rubble through the big metal fence"

Day 2: The clean start ...

2008-07-08T23:48:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 9th July

It's early - 7.49 am to be precise. I can hear the lorry and it's pouring down. The dust problem covering the outside of our home at least seems to be sorting itself out. Why didn't they just damp down the bungalow yesterday before the demolition? Easy - we asked the question and were told "because we didn't have to" - apparantly planning didn't insist upon it. So much for good practice and good PR (a platform that our developers posture on as a local company). Off to school now - not long to go until end of term.

What will I find when I return? More later ...

Well, the rain today has been a blessing after all - my soaking feet (stupidly refused to get the winter footware out again) are a small price to pay for the blissful relief of driving home to unchanged surroundings. Even the sight of the demolished bungalow seems comforting. Rained off - hoorah!

A late PS - We had our regular curry last night. Our friends have read the blog. The general feelings are :

1. The tension is well-hidden but still apparent and they fear for my sanity (b*gg*r!)
2. I am hard of hearing and John always was Giles (what a clever strategy that man has - even my closest friends don't believe me - must collect anecdotes for "how to be a complete "b*****d and succeed!)
3. My poor partner - who wants to come home to that?

"What was Alice's bungalow and the other one"

Day 1: Getting to know each other ...

2008-07-08T14:26:00.000-07:00

Tuesday 8th July

I have chosen the black background because it suits the occasion. Today the builders moved into my neighbourhood and began the housing development that we fought so hard to prevent. We aren’t “nimbys” (not in my back yard). It’s just that the plot is a wooded relief, designated a conservation area, in our already over-developed village and we had got used to the big oaks, wild life and general sense of rural peace that the site provides and is otherwise all but lost here. I’m not saying that all was wonderful – the old bungalow that they demolished today (one of two on the site) was an eye-sore and when I have the time and inclination I will share the history of it, but not now. I wish I had taken a photograph of the old place for posterity, but it is too late now because it’s gone and a pile of rubble is all that is left! I will call it “Alice’s bungalow”, because she was its last owner before the developer bought it. I still have time to capture the other one – that too has an almost unbelievable history, but not for now. When I have a moment I will chronicle the recent past, of the two lost bungalows, to this virtual world and then I can enjoy my first attempt at hyper-linking so that you can go there and “explore” if you are minded.

Back to today – it didn’t start well. I heard the first lorry go past at about 7.30 am – I thought that start and end times were restricted to minimise nuisance to neighbours. This is the case, but there are exceptions – like today (the first day), when the council apparently agreed to an early delivery of a digger thingy for the demolition, before the approved eight o’clock start, so that the huge transporter lorry dropping it off didn’t block the road at rush hour nor pose a threat to school children. If I still had children of school age I might appreciate this as a genuine sign of good practice, but since mine aren’t, my thoughts are selfishly centred on my rude awakening by the invading machines. The cynic in me also thinks “how convenient” for the developer that he can secure an early start, out of consideration for the school children, when he so cleverly diminished our arguments about the long-term safety of local children during the drawn-out planning application. Is it just me?

I challenged the very nice and well-rehearsed “construction director”. He was a gentleman. I could not have been a pretty or welcome sight for him at 7.45 am on a grey summer morning. He has a job to do. I told him it isn’t personal, but I will be watching. Unfortunately for both of us, I am a teacher and my term is about to end, so I have the rest of the summer to spy on them. He gave me his card, put the digger driver on hold until 8.00 am and smiled. The blog will help. I can vent my spleen and still (hopefully) retain my sanity, family and friends!

I wish that I could say things got better as the day progressed (I work four days a week and today is my day off). Even the wind was against us. It seemed to blow every bit of dust over to me. Significant amounts of Alice’s bricks and mortar are very likely to end up in my hoover bag, which is especially annoying as I spent the week-end doing house work. I hate it and subscribe (in theory) to Joan River’s observation that the trouble with it is that in six months time you have to do it all again! It was raining and I had nothing much else on, but I resent the wasted effort. I decided that I must look for the silver lining and jumped upon my business card. Perhaps they would agree to pay to clean my windows at least!

My friendly construction director was not available and I got someone, seemingly from the higher end of the developer’s pole, who introduced himself as “John”, but who later turned out be Giles (never trust them, not even with their name). I now know to ask for more details before speaking to any of them on the telephone. I had decided to be neutral and business-like, but John took this to be showing an “attitude”. My request for some cleaning compensation, which I admittedly said that I “wanted”, met with his clear disapproval. Obviously used to cap-doffing, he advised me that if I chose to change my tone, and re-phrase my request with “would like” instead of “want”, he may be minded to discuss the matter with me. I felt like telling him to stuff his “would like” where the sun doesn’t shine, but refrained and instead declared my withdrawal from the conversation and my intention to continue discussions with planning enforcement, which I have duly done (watch this space for outcomes). A final word to John/Giles – my old professor encapsulated the danger of promotion thus – the higher up the greasy pole you go, the more unpleasant the view from the bottom!

And now the final word of the day – I don’t like bullies, so I asked my other half to make the last call of the day. He was cool, calm and efficient. He didn’t get John, because there is no John (I was mistaken, apparently). Giles wasn’t there, but had seriously misrepresented our conversation – no surprise, given that he had earlier misrepresented himself! I know I am getting on a bit, but there is no problem with my hearing. My other half set down the facts (he’s a policeman and works with facts and evidence), put our case and, surprise, surprise, was told that we could all have a clean start tomorrow – I hope that it is more than a metaphorical clean start!

"The site"