If there's one area where the islands can co-operate, it's against architectural eyesores

The prospect of soggy tea bags, the remnants of last night’s dinner and disposable nappies sailing south from St Sampson’s to be incinerated at La Collette will no doubt make a true Sarnian smile.

Guernsey’s States have been debating the prospect of a new incinerator for almost as long as our own beloved politicians did before they finally agreed to an expensive and very big energy-from-waste plant at La Collette.

They nearly beat us to it until an 11th-hour public protest five years back scuppered plans for a new incinerator while the alternatives to waste disposal were investigated further. The subsequent process included exporting Guernsey’s waste to Jersey, but as we were ahead of the game both Bailiwicks went their separate ways.

It makes sense for two jurisdictions so close together geographically to join forces. Why have two expensive and ugly plants when one could do? As our new incinerator has sufficient capacity to handle the combined waste of both Bailiwicks, it seems logical to ship Guernsey’s rubbish to La Collette and charge the going rate for burning it. With costs spiralling because some dimwit forgot about the exchange rate mechanism, the extra cash would come in very handy.

After years of procrastinating in both Bailiwicks, why has a pan-island deal so suddenly resurfaced? Guernsey and Jersey politicians have far more in common than inter-insular rivalry would allow them to admit.

Primarily, both like nothing better than revisiting old decisions – especially if this comes with the exciting prospect of costing the taxpayer a million pounds or two to save tens of millions.

A brace of Guernsey Deputies have set the cat among the pigeons to stall the latest plans for a £93 million plant, even though pulling out would invoke a £3.2 million penalty clause. They are backed this week by an opinion poll in which almost 60% of respondents were in favour of halting the plans. Hence the urgency to recast an eye in our direction. Unfortunately for our Guernsey cousins, our beloved politicians are refusing to play ball.

Chief Minister Terry Le Sueur has come over all formal, saying that as no official approach has been made discussions cannot commence, while the Environment Panel are all hot and bothered. They fear it may be a tad premature to do a deal until the La Collette plant is up and running so that the true capacity can be assessed.

Seeing as a joint waste solution was raised five years ago, agreement could have reached by now without more calls for both States to work together and co-ordinate political agendas in the aims of joined-up government. Mind you, if we haven’t been able to agree on things since time immemorial, what hope have we of synchronised thinking at a few weeks notice?

THE rivalry between Jersey and Guernsey dates back to the English Civil War when we nailed our colours to the Royalist mast and Guernsey sided with Oliver Cromwell’s Parliamentarians. But the differences between such close neighbours are far older.

Since the political separation from Normandy in the early 13th century, our two little islands have gone their separate ways. Until the politicians began to meet on a regular basis, once both jurisdictions adopted ministerial government, the only area where there were regular meeting of minds was on the sporting field.

How often do Jersey folk take the short trip north other than for business or the odd day trip, and vice-versa? This is a shame, as Guernsey is not that bad. A tad too much ribbon development for my liking, but there is no denying that St Peter Port, built on a steep hillside overlooking a deep-water harbour, knocks spots off St Helier.

A meander through St Peter Port’s cobbled, narrow streets and appealing mix of architecture is a pleasure compared to the increasingly bland steel and glass clonesville of our town.

There is also sport to be had indulging in some good-natured raillery whenever Jersey and Guernsey folk come together. There is nothing more enjoyable and healthy, from a national or cultural perspective, than an exchange of light-hearted, teasing remarks. Those who can share a joke and laugh at each other’s as well as themselves can, in the main, exist together in harmony.

Poor old Guernsey must by now be resigned to coming second to Jersey. Our cows are far more famous, and the Guernsey tom is a mere memory as our very own spud continues to thrive. Jersey’s Battle of Flowers is a professional carnival of international standing while Guernsey’s is just a nice addition to a traditional country show. I could go on but why rub it in?

Guernsey may be perceived in some quarters to be in the shadow of its flash international finance centre neighbour, but we should all envy our sister isle’s ability to hold on to something precious that out little rock is losing on a daily basis. Jersey is selling itself down the river to global business and developers in the name of progress, and growing an economy as fast as the States can fritter away the extra revenue. What price progress?

There is one area where Jersey and Guernsey should be working together, and that is in the fight against the architectural eyesores that are blotting our respective landscapes. A new pressure group was formed last week to mobilise the island against the architectural eyesores that are creeping into Guernsey’s landscape.

They define an eyesore building as ‘one of usually modern architecture, on a high-profile site, strongly visible both in the immediate area and from a distance, and which resulted in widespread criticism and condemnation.’

Sounds familiar? As we crapauds are having little success in stemming the tide of ‘iconic’ developments, perhaps a pan-island concerted efforts could be our last resort.