It could never happen in Merthyr now could it?....A Bridge too Far...

“ I put it to you... the good citizens of the joint committee of the Brecon Beacons National Park .....and Merthyr Tydfil Planning Portfolio members.... that to allow this scheme to go ahead ...would prejudice the original purpose of the area being designated an area of outstanding natural beauty....!” declared Walter Crawshay-Farr, Conservative member for the Parish of Vaynor , as he sat down on his huge farmer’s arse.

“ Sirs.....once again...the Conservative spokesman has shown his true colours....he want’s to ‘conserve’ everything ....it’s the ‘I’m alright Jack- attitude!.... I have a job in Merthyr...I’m a celebrity .....everyone else can starve....this NIMBY....would block everything that involves job creation or has an entrepreneurial bent...unless he can personally profit from it!” ranted ‘Red’ Bob Chippendale in response.

“ I would remind you gentlemen, that this is the Civic Centre Chamber and not Pili Pala day care centre....it is for adults who have ‘qualified privilege for slander’ and not absolute privilege....!” said Chairman Mao reading from his little red ‘standing order’ book governing the conduct of members at meetings.

The pair were diametrically opposed.

Crawshay-Farr was from the landed gentry and his family from generations of farmers descended from the aristocracy.

Bob , was a red-in-the bed union man , who so believed in the word ‘Socialism’ that he had sold the paper ‘Pravda’ on the street corners of Merthyr for 30 years, before being elected on a union- backed ticket into the Council chamber.

He was so left wing, he had even combed his ear –hair over his head to look like his idol, former Mine-workers leader, Arthur Scargill.

The latest issue up for debate before the Joint Committee, was that of granting planning permission for the Pontsticill Railway bridge or Pontsticill viaduct , as it was better known, to be used as an abseiling and bungee centre.

“ I would confirm that Great Western Railway Union, the owners of the bridge .have no objection to the proposed scheme , as long as the applicant, Mr Colt Seevers from Bridge Street , Troedyrhiw takes over the maintenance obligations then they are happy to give their consent .

“ The state of the union address again...!” tut-tutted Crawshay-Farr.

“ It is my recommendation to this Committee, that the application be approved, as it will bring jobs to the area....it will minimise the effect of the closure of the Trelewis Climbing Centre....which recently went to the Wall ... and the scheme will not affect the character or structure of the building or area that desperately needs paid employment!” said Bob holding the lapels of his jacket, triumphantly swaying to and fro , playing to the audience which consisted mainly of the applicants people.

“ Before my learned friend continues.....and I class CSE woodwork from the County Grammar school to be a real boon and essential educational requirement for a local Councillor .....what provision is to be made for visitors to the area, who might decide they want a ‘Danny La Rue’ moment!” said Crawshay-Farr.

“ If they want to dress up in women’s clothes ....I suggest that they go to the Vaynor Farmer’s Barn dance...the women are so ugly...no wonder they prefer their animals...!” retorted Red Bob, red with anger at the expose of his educational deficiencies.

“ Mr Chippendale, I think he meant go ‘underneath the arches’ ....interrupted the Chairman politely.

“ Fine talk ....you’re the one promoting the idea of ‘swingers parties’ in the Ponsticill area....!” sneered Crawshay-Farr

“ And what came of your last great attempt at tourist attraction to Merthyr.....it was recorded at Council minute 2/1995 and I quote....” A member suggested that that a gondola be put on Cyfarthfa Lake , to attract tourists to the park....a bigger member suggested we get two in the hope that they breed...!” continued the red-faced farmer, red with blood pressure....”member indeed!”.

As the chamber went into uproar , with huge guffaws of laughter from those of an ‘animal persuasion’ , whilst those with a social conscious stayed quiet.

“ In any event, there will be no risk of falling masonry ....continued Bob defiantly ...except for this lot of mendicants and members of the round table , when Mid-Glamorgan County Council finally closes later this year...good riddance to that waste of public money .....imagine charging a hard working man £5,000.00 in planning fees for ‘change of use’ ....but deny him operational consent to abseil.....so he can now rig his apparatus up on the bridge but not use it....even you farmers can testify that there are precious few places left for a quiet jump in the Country .. ...unless you have a barn with consenting animals that is.....” replied Bob.

“ Take that back ...it is slander....!” said the irate Farmer, going face to face with the Union man.

“ And I thought it was only us ‘common’ people who do all the donkey-work!” taunted Bob (with his union colleagues bleating encouragement from the back benches) nose to nose with his adversary.

“ Gentlemen....Order, Order.... shouted the Chairman hitting his desk with his gavel...we will have to arrange for a site meeting to determine the outcome of this matter.....I suggest that we meet at 2.00pm on Thursday at the bridge....and you two gentlemen bring your manners or duelling pistols next time!”.


*****

“What a beautiful place.....look at the colour of that water....it is like the garden of Eden....!” said Christine Williams-Booth taking off her Salvation Army hat and clutching her favourite shorthand pen.

“ Yes...it is a great place for a ‘sight’ meeting ....or even a Summer Holiday!” said the Planning Enforcement officer Doug Eastwood , as his cowboy boots clicked over the limestone stones at the river’s edge.

“Look at the different colours of the maples and copper beeches set against the backdrop of Morlais Castle and the River Taff Fechan!” said Dog sighing loudly.

The shared moment of planning joy, at the ‘visual amenity’ of the area was spoiled momentarily by two Goetre School-kids playing truant and pooh-sticks , racing dog faeces in Carling Black Label cans over the waterfall turning the Blue Pool into the Brown Pool momentarily.

As the rest of the Councillors climbed over the style near the Aberglais Public House, Farmer Crawshay-Farr ,(who also co-incidentally owned the land below the arches) arrived on his Massey-Ferguson tractor, followed by twenty cars in convoy that had followed him since the Penygarn Estate.

“ Where’s that Red Bastard?” asked the farmer affectionately about his communist foe.

“ Rambling again!” said Christine moving her Council issue mascot coat with integral tambourines sown into the lining.

As she moved her shoulders, she melodically played ‘On A Saviour’s Day!’ like a walking musical Christmas card.

“ I didn’t ask about what he had to say....I asked where he is... this is important Council business and unlike him I have real work to do!” continued the impatient land-owner.

“ He is rambling....walking up the Taff trial....he is being accompanied by BBC Wales Derek Brockway and some other celebrities and veteran film actors to raise Money for Children in Need and the Bridgend and District Drug Abuse Drop in Centre....to raise the profile of the ‘Weatherman Walking’ show....!” replied Christine .

“Is Rugby player Gareth Thomas backing him ?” asked the farmer

“ I’m sure he is behind him somewhere....I’m quiet excited because my idol Cliff Richard is coming too!”

As Doug Eastwood looked down at the transcript of their conversation Doug pointed out that the shorthand notes had a spelling error in them.

“ There is no ‘N’ in walking !” he corrected the Committee Clerk for the first time ever. “ Oh I do hope that he ‘can come and join us’ for some ‘Mistletoe & Wine’ she sighed affectionately.

“ Alcohol from the Salvation Army...not on my watch!” declared Doug Eastwood mockingly.

Looking up at the huge stone block structure of the Viaduct , they could see that the applicant had rigged his apparatus over the side of the bridge ready for a practical demonstration of the way abseiling works.

As Crawshay-Farr looked up at the climbing instructor high up on the bridge , a full can of orange pop , fell with a thud narrowly missing the farmer by inches.

“ See that’s why this mad scheme should be refused....it is a danger to the general public!” ranted Crawshay-Farr.

“ Congratulations !” declared Doug in a mocking voice picking up the can and getting a black look from the Committee Clerk, in doing so , for taking Cliff Richard’s name in vain ... “ From out of the ‘shadows’....Doug said in a Marlon Brando voice stood ‘on the waterfront’.......that’s the Last Tango in Powys !”

“ Great place for a Summer Holiday...!” bellowed Cliff from the bridge above.

“ Cheers! ....got any food too...I’m Hank Marvin!” “ shouted out Doug, to the pop maestro as he opened the can....spilling everywhere.

“ Oi ...Cliff ....throw some Robinson’s Barley water down next time...!” he said as a series of Wimbledon tennis balls were hit over the top of the viaduct landing amidst the Council officers below.

“ How many more balls you got left ?” Christine shouted up hopefully.

“ Fifteen-Love!” was the reply, as he appeared over the side of the bridge- pearly white teeth dazzling in the sun , as a corona of light appeared behind that of music’s ‘Peter Pan’.

“ Can we get on with the site meeting!” demanded Crawshay –Farr .

Bob produced a megaphone that he had used on his rallies during the Miner’s strike of 1984 and began to shout down at great volume the proposals and nature of the outdoor activity scheme.

Unfortunately, all the birdlife and fauna within a 2 mile radius of Bob, flew or ran fled from the Nature reserve.

Crawshay-Farr, the red faced Farmer, was annoyed that his rival had a bigger platform for his oration and he beckoned to Bob and his entourage to come down below the viaduct.

To him the scheme was a bridge too Farr.

Down the narrow steep railway embankment appeared the minor celebrities with Derek Brockway leading, using all his geographical and metrological skills to navigate down the slope.

As he was joined in a line, like a puff –puff steam train came, Gareth Thomas, Cliff Richard and Max Boyce, they all hung onto each other for dear life, as the incline was steeper than first anticipated by Brockway.

As they ran one after the other, Brockway stopped at the bottom and the conga line bumped into each other creating a ‘monk’s chain’.

“ And we were singing .....Him’s and Ahh yes!” said Max Boyce stopping suddenly as he reached the bottom.

“ What are you lot doing here.....said Crawshay-Farr ....looking at the celebrities who were being joined by a load of ‘ex- methadone zombies’ on a day trip from Kenfig Hill & Pyle ....this is a planning site meeting....you lot can’t claim expenses too....he said to the Rugby Star...“ What’s it all about Alfie?”

“ We are here to give our backing to the scheme....add a bit of ‘barbarian’ flair to this economical disadvantaged area....!” he replied .

“ Esther Rantzen too has give her support....she wants to see young disadvantaged people using the abseiling and bungee ropes....she wants to see a ‘Child Line’ in Merthyr.......We’ll all going on a Summer Holiday!” he started to sing as he Cliff took centre court.

“ I’m looking forward to singing ‘congratulations’ to the applicant Mr Seevers, at this top sporting event...providing it doesn’t cause any more rain to appear!”

“ Don’t you people have any regard for the land owners in such a situation....surely you of all people Alfie....are concerned with the state of the grass below the arches!” enquired the farmer feeling outnumbered.

“ I have discovered that you have a vested interest in this venture failing .....said Red Bob ...you and your cousin, Marlon Brandy-Farr ...correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t he the Chairman of the National Park Committee- the ‘Last Quango in Powys’ ...that’s why there has been some much bureaucratic delay and paperwork over the scheme.....have you declared this interest in the book of member’s interest...?”

“ I’m thinking of doing a book about my member’s interest ...!” interrupted Alfie coming out from behind the scrum of people.

“ Do they treat you any differently now then Alf...since you disclosed you prefer teabags to coffee?” asked Red Bob....as my Union fought to put discrimination laws in place!”

“ I have to use the referee’s room to shower now ...!” sighed Alfie....”but Nigel Owen doesn’t mind too much...in fact here he comes now!” spotting the whistleblower arriving from the Taff Trail.

The interruption had saved the pig farmer’s bacon temporarily.

******************************

Tony ‘the Carp’ Millwards stood waist deep in water, oblivious to the celebrity gathering just above the waterfall and rocks cloaking him from vision.

His fishing rod was bending with the strain , as he felt a huge tug on the end of his fishing line.

His jet black hair and blacker eyes (Blacker than a great white shark) rolled, as they had done when he caught his first ever minnow in Cyfarthfa Park Lake which had ‘hooked’ him and his lifelong work of 60 years fishing and preserving the local Rivers for future generations.

There was no greater feeling to him than having his hands in fish guts.

He was delighted to see that it was the first salmon to have swum up from the Bristol Channel since the introduction of the fish ladder at Caedraw.

If David Attenborough had filmed the grilse , he would have seen the ‘Life ‘ and death struggle of the fish , surviving poachers, Aberfan ticklers, Tesco Trollies and hundreds of dead greyhounds in sacks on its journey back to it’s spawning grounds.

Now it ended up on the line of experienced angler ‘The Carp’.

Tony had every intention of tagging and releasing the ‘survivor’ further upstream passed the waterfall.

Suddenly from nowhere, the Carp had a feeling in his ‘barbels’ that he was not alone.

He looked up instinctively and saw the recurring nightmare that had frightened him for nigh on 40 years.

Count Dracula flying through the air.... towards him.

As a child, he was always scared by the Hammer Horror series of films and to see the face of Christopher Lee plunging from the bridge above him, on an unseen bungee rope terrorised the angler.

As Lee stole the salmon with his usual grace and haunting look, they both recoiled in horror.

As Tony filled his waders with fresh ‘fish food’ , he had unwittingly done the one thing he had tried do for the last 40 years – protect the river from man-made pollution.

Under duress from the presence of the celebrities (and a £5,000.00 per year delivery of cash in unmarked notes to the farmer) an agreement had been struck in principle between the Farmer and the applicant.

The planning department gave conditional consent to the operation, subject to certain safeguards regarding the repair of the structure of the former railway line and also that the ‘ colouring of the bungee cord used must match the appearance of the backdrop of the russet coloured trees of the Taf Fechan Woodland’ – oh and that a Section 106 Agreement Planning Agreement, be entered into to re-open the Pontsarn Inn for Councillors at Holiday Season.

Up on the bridge, the actors and minor celebrities that couldn’t find pantomime work or a reality show to showcase ‘their talents’ stood assembled.

Pop singer H from Steps, cat-called the politicians from high upon the Pontsarn Viaduct.

“If you had any guts....you two would settle your differences now and forget your petty squabbling over expenses........that will teach you the real meaning of ‘flipping’!” he sang melodically ...voice echoing like a Greek Nymph in the silent valley below.

He was of course referring to the ‘unwritten condition’ that of the ‘matter of honour’ between the two Councillors be decided by duel.

The duel involved a test of nerve between the two and involved trial by bungee.

It was like Russian Roulette with the gun being gravity.

Both politicians were heavyweights in more ways than one.

The farmer had spent too much time on the tractor and not enough in the haystack.

The former Railway Union Man had spent too long in the buffet car and not enough on the buffers.

Both ‘laboured’ up the embankment like Sir Edmund Hillary & Sherpa Tensing scrambling and fighting to reach the top first , like two schoolchildren in the school yard fighting for dominance.

Colt Seevers met the pair and explained the rules of engagement of ‘Duel by Umbilical’ and had them sign the appropriate exclusion for death waiver.

As he was helped into his harness by the former Steps blonde singer ‘H’ , Red Bob was confident he would not chicken out and was prepared to do all three bungee swings if necessary.

The farmer was determined that he would win- after all he had an advantage- his father had been a former member of the RAFA Club and fought in the Battle of Britain alongside Douglas Bader.

As the rivals stood on the parapet ready for the count of three, they felt giddy with excitement, as they stood steaming with sweat like a rugby scrum on a cold day .

As Referee Nigel blew his whistle , from far below the pair dived off headfirst whistling their way to the ground.

Actor Peter Cushen felt giddy with excrement seeing the steam and hearing the whistle , as he thought a train was going to emerge from the miler tunnel with his zimmer caught in the train tracks

The two unlikely bungee contestants flew at 100 MPH towards the green field and daisies below the viaduct.

Not for the first time, but definitely the last time, the farmer ploughed straight into his field below....leaving a massive hole....like phase 3 of Eastern Merthyr...his legs dangling in the air ....separated from the rest of his body, as they hung on the bungee cord in the air above....like a reverse Douglas Bader.

Red Bob became ‘Brown Bob’ as he saw in slow motion the fate of farmer as he hit the ground.

Red Bob closed his eyes as the ground grew closer and closer until his Arthur Scargill hair mercifully obscured his vision .

As he re-opened them he realised he was not dead ...he had mercifully stopped inches and two ear-hair strands from the floor.

His harness had snapped , but he was somehow suspended in mid-air albeit upside-down.

“ What the Hell happened....?” asked Doug Eastwood as he shoved the shocked Ex- Steps Singer out of the way.

“ This isn’t a proper bungee cord!” he declared shocked at the scene he had just witnessed.

As he pulled up the line he was answered by Colt Seevers.

“ The cord complies strictly with your planning permission condition...it is not visually intrusive...it matches the red background of the trees and is ‘in keeping with the appearance of the Taf Fechan Area of Special and Scientific Beauty...!” he said reading the information from the planning committee minutes.

Christine the Committee Clerk, nodded confirmation that there was compliance in this regard.

“ This cord isn’t cord at all it .....is RED TAPE!” declared Doug Eastwood.

“ I know....now you all know what it feels like!” said Colt laughing.

Looking down at the crestfallen Councillor, hanging on held in place , inches from the ground by 50 feet of haemorrhoid veins.

Colt moaned to the Pop Singer “Those Councillors ...they can be can be a right pain in the arse...all that preparation H ....and for what!” said Seevers.

Looking down at the gathered throng of celebrities and Bridgend methadone addicts he replied.

“At least there are plenty of Pyle pushers below the bridge to help him out!” came the reply.