Hedley's Island Guide: The Millennium Park

Funny how the one way to bugger somethin’ up altogether is to stick the word ‘Millennium’ in front of it. Thet Millennium Dome thing they hed in London is another load of old crep, just sitting there all empty like one of the warf’s empty bra cups.

The ‘Millennium Prayer’ bah Cliff Richards; say no more. And of course, the worst of them all, our very own ‘Millennium Park’, or ‘Millennium Carpark’ as it is perhaps more fittin’ to call it, seein’ as the park itself has progressed no further than the square mahl of tarmac that they planted there all them years beck. If yer lookin’ fer greenery then there’s a few weeds growin’ up beneath the crecks but thet’s abaht it, save the occasional pond when it rains ‘n a few discarded (albeit colourful) paycards.

Nah ah yer on the ray-dee-oh thet they’re plannin’ to add some Millennium Housin’ into the mix, much to the annoyance of them local Saint Helions what wanted a park just to walk arahnd in, poor sods. As far away as they may be ah can’t help feelin’ sorry for ’em, seein’ as we share the same taxes ‘n all ‘n watch the same crep TV etc.

To them ah say this: yer more than welcome to come stretch yer legs on the sand dunes at Les Mielles … sorry, the ‘Millennium Dunes’… instead. Ah’ll even come ‘n pick you up in mah tractor; got a big trailer hitched to the beck for yers all to stand in, if you don’t marnd the cow-muck. Just say the word!