nce upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a huge great
black snarling beast that visited itself upon a small part of a small
town, just to the north of London. Everyday the snarling beast would
come, roaring and belching out dark fumes. If anyone should be silly
enough to step too near, the beast would gobble them up. At first,
everyone looked to the mayor of the small town for help, but he said
this is such a big beast, and I am just a small town mayor, I do not
have the power to tackle a big beast.
ortunately the small town formed part of a wider area, which was
governed by the Green Giant. The Green Giant much preferred to live in
the open fields, where he could stomp around without anyone really
noticing him. He didn't like to come into the small town, the narrow
streets not being wide enough for the big boots of such a giant.
Because the giant didn't know the small town very well, he thought he
was being very helpful when he offered to build a new road, to tempt
away the snarling beast. Besides he had set his mind on the lovely
green belt, which was to be his price for building the new road.
hen the people who lived in the small town heard that there was
going to be a new road, there was quite a fuss. Everyone else thought
that they also needed a new road. The giant realised that by giving the
new road four names, all the people in the small town (and even people
who lived in London and beyond) would believe that the road was
actually being built for them. The four names he chose were the A4008,
Stephenson Way, the M1 Link Road, and the St Albans Road by-pass.
ow ungrateful these townsfolk are," thought the giant, "can't
they see what a wonderful road I have built?" But because the great
snarling black beast simply refused to use the road with four names,
the giant realised he would have to try another plan. "I know," he
thought, "I will re-allocate
roadspace!" Now it is not really known where the giant first heard
this term: maybe a childish imp told it to him, or maybe he just dreamt
it up himself - but what is known is that from then on everything
started to get quite jumbled up. Its not even known if the phrase has a
proper meaning: but to the giant it meant just one thing - create
a traffic jam!
ow if you are going to create a traffic jam, you don't want to
just make a little one. You really want to make the biggest one you
can. You'll need traffic lights. You'll need road signs. Loads of them,
stick them up everywhere! Build a cycle path, and then chop it into
lots of little short bits. You can even squeeze a bit between two lanes
of traffic! Build a bus lane; chop that into little short bits too!
Give the buses priority, let them zoom along the road, then make them
wait at their own set of lights! Fence those grumbling pedestrians off,
make them walk the long way round! The giant had such fun, creating
such a big traffic jam, even what you might call an award winning
traffic jam, that it was decided that the whole scheme really ought to
carry the giant's own name.
he giant was very happy. He had a new green belt, and he had
tricked the townsfolk into believing that they all had a new road to
meet their own special needs. The giant felt proud that he had done
such a great thing for the small town. He thought that everyone should
be happy, and be appreciative to him for providing them all with a new
road. The price of one green belt was not too much to pay, was it? But
the people still grumbled. And still, every day, the great black
snarling beast wound its way through the small part of the small town.
he problem was that, far from the Green Route frightening off
the great black snarling beast, the beast was delighted. It divided
into two and grew even bigger. The great big heavy bit, the bit that
was carrying things and going places, shot off down the road with four
names. And everything else went down the road which carried the giant's
own name. But the success of the traffic jam meant that meant that the
great black snarling beast spent even more of the day in the small part
of the small town. Some people were pleased, they said that the black
fumes "smelt less of diesel", but they were laughed at by others who
said don't you mean it "smells more of petrol?" The giant didn't mind,
after all he still had plenty of nice green fields he could stomp
around in. He never liked the small town anyway, and wanted to spend as
little time there as possible.
ow unlike most fairy tales, we are not sure if this one has a
happy ending. Should the townsfolk try to slay the great black snarling
beast, or is the Green Giant really the bigger problem? Rumour has it
that the mayor will get more powers. Was that the way to slay the
beast? Whichever way we look at, we must remember that this is only a
fairy tale, and it couldn't happen here!
