LAST weekend’s monsoon rekindled memories of the classic Hancock’s Half Hour episode when the comic genius was at a loss to fill a dull Sunday afternoon.

Being a Sunday afternoon in Jersey in August, even if the weather had jumped forward to November, 99.9 per cent of whatever was going on was al-fresco. Unless events were taking place under cover or there was a float nearby which needed a few flowers sticking on, there were going to be some pretty disappointed and wet people.

Rather than making the most of a low tide to explore – as planned – the gulleys between Fliquet and St Catherine’s Breakwater, like Hancock, I set about occupying my time.

The persistent downpour provided an excuse to peruse the Green Paper on the Island Plan Review – all 186 pages, fortunately accompanied by a strategic options summary and 79 questions. Ah, a good old questionnaire, that should pass an hour or so, and it would sure beat watching golf on the telly or removing my brain to tune into Big Brother.

Did you know that Australian television has dropped its version of Big Brother? If there was ever a better reason to emigrate, now is the time. As I did not have an application form to hand, I turned instead to the pale sage-green paper.

The Island Plan is the blueprint for all land use in and around Jersey. It is a comprehensive strategic document, dictated to by the States’ expectations of the Island’s future economic climate and designed to provide a statutory framework for land use and to guide policy in relation to housing needs, retail, tourism, agriculture, travel and transport, mineral extraction and waste management, while also protecting Jersey’s precious environment and heritage.

The Green Paper is the first step in an 18-month process of review and consultation to arrive in late 2009 at a States debate on the new plan. Well, the best-laid plans of mice and men and the aspirations of our ever-eager Planning Minister, Freddie Cohen, aside, what little gems are being put before us?

Not entirely unexpectedly (well, it is a States document), flicking through the weighty paper was bound to reveal a suggestion or two guaranteed to raise the blood pressure. It soon lived up to expectations.

Apparently, there is interest in building a new major hotel at Gorey. It was a surprise to see a proposal of such magnitude with the potential to ignite concerns among the residents of Gorey Village, environmentalists and heritage organisations, thrown in for discussion with no substantial supporting information.

Moreover, it was not just a case of building a hotel somewhere in the environs of this delightful little corner of Jersey, but seeking the public’s views as to whether a special case should be made for rezoning land for that purpose.

Last time I looked, every potential building site, from Mont Orgueil to the marsh and the golf links to the escarpment green zone, was pretty much developed, including several old hotels replaced with residential accommodation. The Jersey Pottery has been approved for a residential development, while the last likely chunk of village land has just been rezoned for sheltered housing.

Before giving an opinion on such an important question, as we all know how statistics can be used to support ulterior motives, I would like some more information. More importantly, what horror of modern hotel design can we expect to be subjected to – another architectural carbuncle like the Radisson?

The jungle drums in Grouville have been sounding warnings of plans for an up-market hotel on the allotments and old quarry in Chemin de Maltières for a year or so. Are greedy developers’ eyes set on the last open space on the Coast Road, the Drive-In BBQ, or will the former Beach Hotel take on a new lease of life? Before asking if Islanders agree to the principle of rezoning land for a hotel in such an important location, it would be helpful to know just where that might be.

Rezoning precious green field sites for essential housing is one thing, but it is a totally different ball game to sacrifice the countryside or encroach on areas of environmental importance, for the benefits of private business or some international hotel chain – no matter what the wider economic gains.

What other contentious issues does the Green Paper address? Three years after public opinion forced the Waterfront developers to scrap plans for skyscrapers to dominate the gateway to St Helier, the prospect of tall buildings is back for discussion. Apart from the hideous high-rise housing developments of the 1970s and a commercial block or two, for the past 20 years development in the town has been capped at five storeys, with the recent exception of seven storeys on the Waterfront.

Building high serves the dual purposes of maximising a small space and achieving density, but at what cost to the occupants and the character of the town?

As the clock ticked in time to the raindrops outside, it became apparent that such an important document required far more attention than one wet afternoon. In a community renowned for its apathy (and politicians who turn up for major debates without having done their homework), there is a strong risk that such an important document will be largely ignored.

The usual suspects (heritage and environmental groups, planning watch dogs and the minority of ever interested Islanders) can be relied on to do their civic duty. But will the man in the street do the same?
Public consultation is a right of democratic societies; it did not come easy, and people were martyred in its cause. When such important documents as the Island Plan come up for review, the public should play their part, but I wonder how many Islanders are aware that their views are even being sought.

A public that engages in the government process is doing more than exercising its rights; by being fully informed of what is being done in its name, the great Jersey public can show which politicians are
not earning their keep at the tax-payers’ expense.