IT was not just any old innovation in urban dining – it was Marks & Spencer al-fresco dining, elevated majestically above the traffic hub at Red Houses.

It was a row of seemingly innocuous tables and chairs, hand-made by skilled Scandeweigan craftsmen and painstakingly arranged on decking of the finest Fairtrade timber, on a perfectly curved balcony, protruding from the most modern of retail emporia.

A unique eating experience, conceived to perfection to satisfy the culinary requirements of shoppers wanting to consume the finest of glossy overpackaged wares from all corners of the world in an unrivalled location.
This was not your ordinary run-of-the-mill al-fresco café. It was a Marks & Spencer café. Until Planning got in on the act.

Apparently Sandpiper CI, the owners of the Checkers chain and the local M&S franchise, have been naughty in creating a dining area just off the lingerie department. Nothing illegal there, as far as I can make out, but they pushed their luck by placing tables and chairs outside, which technically needed Planning approval.

Not only could diners sip hot beverages and partake of M&S goodies while gazing over the rooftops and savouring the distant aroma of aircraft fuel from the Airport, they could also indulge in some harmless voyeurism by watching Island life go by below.

Herein lay the seeds of Sandpiper’s downfall. The balcony is elevated above neighbouring properties, the occupants of which were justifiably upset at losing their privacy and fearful of an increase in seagulls, scavenging for food. It transpired that thirsty shoppers and hungry seabirds are an alarming combination for the planners. Attempts at a compromise acceptable to all, including a brace of States Members, came to nought, and last week, having submitted a retrospective application, Sandpiper were given 28 days to clear the balcony.

While I can understand the neighbours’ concerns, it was a great shame to see this brief attempt at retail café society disappear for ever. The presence of people sitting on the balcony livened up the junction and made the standard glass and aluminium frontage of the building more attractive.

It was also good for business as, having spotted the new activity last week, I felt compelled to try it out. Although the coffee did not live up to the usual M&S pretentiously seductive marketing blurb, the view was unusual and I can’t recall being able to spy into any garden or front room. Nor did seagulls intent on snatching my shortbread biscuit threaten me.

If the complaints of neighbours had not quashed Sandpiper’s initiative, no doubt ‘elf ‘n’ safety killjoys would have eventually stuck their noses in. Either the balcony rail would not have been high enough, or the whole area would have had to be shrouded with netting to prevent some poor unsuspecting shopper toppling over the edge or from being attacked by a flock of seagulls.

We live in an age in which bureaucrats – paid from the public purse – come up with increasingly draconian and barmy regulations, guidelines and advice to protect us from every conceivable pitfall. The tyranny of ‘elf ‘n’ safety has even seen schools ban children from playing conkers in case one accidentally hits an opposing knuckle.

Whatever happened to common sense? Is the average person so devoid of the ability to assess the consequences of his actions that society has to act to protect him at every step of the way?

Jersey’s planning applications panel was not the only body deliberating last week. The BBC’s ‘elf ‘n’ safety advisers demanded that the musicians at this year’s Last Night of the Proms concert should keep the noise down. By its very nature, this delightful example of British eccentricity is a cacophony of noise – from the platform and among the audience tiered around the Albert Hall.

But not delightful, apparently, to the good burghers of Brussels. Under an EU directive passed in April this year the BBC, as an employer, is legally bound to ensure that the performers are not exposed to excessive levels of noise.
So this Saturday we can expect a muted rendition of Land of Hope and Glory.

And will the conductor have to tap the soloist on the shoulder to ensure that the high notes of Rule Britannia don’t break the accepted EU decibel limit?

Notwithstanding the excessive cautiousness of our ‘elf ‘n’ safety and compensation-driven culture, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Children are being encouraged to play, be adventurous and explore the world outside the security of their fenced gardens or the comfort zone of the armour-plated gas-guzzling 4x4s owned by their parents.

While Planning were ticking off Sandpiper and the BBC were issuing earplugs to musicians, the UK’s Local Government Association was urging schools not to live in fear of being sued by parents and to bring back traditional playground games such as tag, oranges and lemons, hopscotch, French elastic and marbles. Sensibly, the association observed that cuts and grazes and getting into scrapes were part and parcel of growing up.

I hope that such good advice will be taken on board in St Catherine’s Woods. This summer the children who use this delightful place as a playground strung ropes from a tree on the edge of a steep slope from where they could swing into space. A large fluorescent boat buoy was attached to one sturdy rope and it made an ingenious swing. At the height of the holidays someone first cut the ropes, then removed them completely.

This could have been a simple act of vandalism, or there may have been good reason for this act. I and the many others who regularly enjoy a walk in the woods were saddened by the loss of the ropes and an end to the fun they brought countless children and adults.

Last week someone climbed the tree and attached a single rope with a sturdy branch secured at the base to stand on when swinging back and forth and from side to side. Long may it remain in place.