Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1300177
10 maltatoday | SUNDAY • 18 OCTOBER 2020 Raphael Vassallo OPINION Nice garden. Let's demolish it, and build a petrol station instead… ONE of the first rules of jour- nalism – or any other form of writing, if it comes to it – is to 'declare your bias'. So here's mine, coming right up: I live in Ta' Xbiex, right on the periphery between two other towns, Gzira and Msida… in other words, slap-bang in the middle of one of the most densely populated regions, of the one of the most densely populated countries, in the entire world. And yet, strangely, it doesn't al- ways feel that way. This is part- ly because, for 20-odd years, I have also lived almost literally a stone's throw from the only pub- lic garden in a radius of around two miles. Even if you were to extend that radius by another two miles… and then another two miles again… Gzira's 'Council of Eu- rope Garden' would still remain the only public garden (or in- deed, open space of any kind at all) servicing the entire North- west Harbour region of Malta. And hemming in this solitary haven of tranquility – the on- ly place, from Msida to Sliema, where you can still see a couple of trees, or the occasional butterfly fluttering among the bushes (or where, for that matter, children can still play out in the open, in safety) – there is nothing but a choking, claustrophobic sprawl of traffic and tightly-packed ur- ban clutter, with not a single undeveloped square-inch any- where in sight. Much as I hate to say this about the hometown I have none- theless grown to love and care deeply about… looking at it to- day, I am reminded of Boromir's classic (and much-lampooned) speech about Mordor at the Council of Elrond: "One does not simply walk through the Sliema/Gzira/ Ta'Xbiex area. The streets are blocked by cranes and deliv- ery-trucks; pavements have been torn up to make way for private lidos, or extensions of private bars and restaurants… there are gaping craters, where there were once elegant townhouses with front-gardens… and the very air you breathe is a foul concoction of exhaust fumes, and dust from endless construction sites…" But unlike Mordor, there re- mains at least this tiny corner that is still a pleasure to walk through, or just to sit on a bench under the shade of a tree. De- spite the admittedly ghastly name (honestly, though: what were they even thinking?), the 'Council of Europe Garden' re- mains the little chip of prettiness it always was: a sudden explo- sion of refreshing greenery, and a sorely-needed refuge from the bewildering chaos beyond. It's not as though you can no longer hear the steady hum of passing traffic, or the increasing- ly intolerable drone of pneumat- ic drills and jack-hammers… but once you step past that hedge, and find yourself inhaling the fragrance of lantana and jasmine, instead of the purulence of gar- bage bags piled up outside KFC across the road… those sounds tends to be tempered by others: like birdsong, for instance; or the laughter of little children… And OK, I know what you're probably thinking: there goes Raphael again, getting all mushy and sentimental as usual... this time, over a bunch of trees, and maybe a couple of lizards scurry- ing through the undergrowth… But I can't really help it, I'm afraid. For one thing: I do gen- uinely feel distressed at the thought that even a tiny fraction of this little haven – still less a giant chunk of it – may soon be torn up by bulldozers, to make way for (of all godawful things) another bloody petrol station. Like we don't have enough of those already… For another: in this context, the alternative to 'mushy sen- timentality' is… ANGER. A deep-seated, psychotic and ut- terly unstoppable primal rage, that grabs me by the intestines, picks me up like a tornado, and hurls my body headlong into the hardest surface it can find. And I can't write when I'm an- gry. In fact, I can't do very much at all: except maybe break stuff… like my keyboard, for instance; or my knuckles, as they make contact with the nearest wall. (And let's face it: there aren't many public open spaces that have successfully been saved from demolition, by people 'breaking stuff' in a fit of uncon- trollable fury…) Luckily for the rest of us, how- ever, there are a few others who are fighting to preserve this last remaining corner of our collec- tive sanity and peace of mind. And unlike me, they use argu- ments that are rational, lev- el-headed, compelling, and – above all – LEGAL. So without further mushiness or ado: onto the nitty-gritty. Much to its credit, the Gzira Local Council has attempted to stop this madness by means of a court case: arguing that the Planning Authority's decision to relocate the Manoel Island pet- rol station to the adjacent public garden is illegal (let me say that again: ILLEGAL) on a number of counts. Among them, the following: > it violates Policy NHRL01 of the Local Plan, which precludes the loss of 'public open spaces'… in particular, those designated as 'dark green' in the accompa- nying maps (more of which lat- er); > it breaches the national fuel station policy guidelines, which stipulate a minimum distance of 500 metres between one petrol station and another (there are no fewer than three other petrol stations nearby, all well within that minimum distance); > it falls foul of SPED (Strategic