Editor's Blog Nov 08th 2011 - Highway Enforcement.
The powers are through, or so I’m led to believe, and the Highways Enforcement Agency is now waving powers of ticketing. Not content with trying to stare you down when you drive slowly past, almost daring you to stop and contemplate parking; they now also hover at bus stops and the odd licensed parking permit area.
This morning I saw them walking down Devils Tower Road in twos, as if this part of town is some sort of ghetto; I imagine they walk 4 abreast through Laguna or in the Upper town, maybe tooled up with a space pen and non-slip ink!
On the way home yesterday, finishing far later than I wanted, I cycled along Fish Market Lane. I did this for 2 reasons; firstly I didn’t want to go through Casemates on my bike, like many people, it annoys me, and secondly it was dark and I had no lights. So off I go and along the Lane, out pops the policeman. Now I don’t have a problem because he was right, there was some mitigation but alas, I had to walk, at least until I was in Laguna estate. The point is that I never see anyone getting picked up elsewhere; yesterday I was walking behind a woman cycling down Irish Town all along the street in broad daylight and not even a single policeman or woman. Across casemates the same, it drives me mental... me on a dark and quiet street... nabbed.
Halloween and the end of term; both a significant point in the annual calendar, more so the end of term, as it means the streets have less cars on them this morning as I cycled to work. I don’t just mean from Gibraltar either, the number of Gib registered cars coming through that border and/or dropping off their children at the frontier is incredible. But the reduction in traffic volume far outweighs my concern on the frontier queues.
With the YGTV News, comes my daily blog, aimed at the world around us through my torched piece of sand. The morning chorus of reversing delivery vans has already started here and the rain doesn’t seem to dampen their ardour to shout their way through the morning. A very definite Mediterranean thing shouting I reckon. Amazing when you think that instead of shouting “Oi” they make a hissing sound, which is much more silent, far less rude and amazingly easy to pick up. It’s the same thing living in blocks of flats; I wonder if the neighbours realise you can hear them going through their rituals morning, noon and night. “Maaam where’s me toast?” “Hijo? In the toaster where else, and go wake your Dad up!” No need love; the shouting got the whole street going.
We have a lot of buskers; even more so in these economically bad times (I prefer to call it BROL – Bankers Ruin Our Lives). It seems anyone with a slight affliction, wart, chipped fingernail or limp. Go without a wash for a few days, don’t shave (including the women) and feel it is ok to literally ask for money.
I have tried asking them instead, and boy does it screw them up. You get an almost incredulous look as if you have plagiarised their patented idea.
