By Douglas Kruger
NO matter who you are, there’s always that one silly thing that can make you incandescent with rage. It may not be reasonable, rational, or in proportion. The failure to use a coaster under a mug, for example, can drive some apoplectic. For Democrats in America, it’s a Tesla quietly minding its own business.
For me… well… it has to do with kids’ play areas, which is an odd incendiary. I’ll explain.
I was strolling through Gatwick, when I spotted a sign: ‘Kids Play Area.’ I have a kid. He likes play areas. I went to scout it out. Trouble was, I couldn’t find the darn thing.
Then I realised I had walked past it three times. Yes, folks, that bit of blank floor, onto which someone had chucked a couple of spongy blocks and the world’s saddest plastic slide, was it.
Britain isn’t poor. It’s the sixth wealthiest nation on earth. And Gatwick isn’t small. Forty-three million souls trudge through it each year. They even have extensive floor space. And this was the best they could do? As “welcoming international handshakes” went, it achieved a level of pathetic that actually made me fume.
If that sounds overkill, let’s add context.
I travel frequently, and the places I visit are a mixed bag, from millionaire playgrounds, to economies hauling themselves bodily up a hill. And the kids’ facilities, even in the latter, look palatial beside that half-arsed effort.
In South Africa, for example, there is a chain of restaurants called Spur. Spur is not an expensive outlet. It’s middle-of-the-road, in an economy considered to be “emerging”, in a nation where more than a third of the population is unemployed.
Yet you can go to a backwater town in South Africa, and the local Spur will have a kids’ play area twice the size of Gatwick’s. It will be kitted out with climbing nets, slides, ball pits, and a mini video-game arcade. And it’s all free.
The local malls do it too. I asked my folks to send over a few shots of Clearwater, their nearest haunt, shown here.
Clearwater is neither conspicuously big, nor located in an unusually wealthy suburb. But it boasts a gigantic play area, sprawling in every direction. That’s in addition to a second one provided by the Spur, which is nearly as big again.
This isn’t a uniquely South African thing. It’s common almost everywhere.
Take Mauritius. I was there a while back, and my hosts drove me to lunch. “Glance inside that restaurant,” they said. It was a small affair, family owned, located within a residential house. The interior had been converted into a mini waterpark, complete with slides. “You can have your meal in the pool. They serve it to you on the ledge. Your kids play on the water slides while you eat. Or they can climb on the jungle gym outside.”
These were facilities provided by a single family, who started a restaurant out of their own home, cooking from a pot.
I started counting the restaurants with kids’ play areas. There were several in a row, on that stretch of road alone, each better kitted out than Gatwick. Gatwick has more space, more money and more visitors. This is not an issue of resources. It is an issue of attitude.
I’m told it used to be different in Jersey. I hear whispered lore of a place called The Living Legend, a wonderland of underground caverns, waterways, mini-golf courses and more, now long since defunct. There are also tales of Funland, Fantastic Tropical Gardens, Go-Carts, the Drive-In BBQ.
Where did they all go? And given more people on the Island, and greater income, where are the bigger and better replacements? I can’t make the maths work.
A few weeks back, Jersey Airport announced that it would open a play area for kids. Good people, I want you to go there and behold the results. It’s a chalkboard, and a couple of plastic chairs.
People travelling here from war-torn third-world nations must shake their heads and think, “Better remember to give them our spare change. Those poor kids.”
I’m aware that our Airport is about to undergo a major upgrade. So I hope that this set-up is as temporary as it is sad. If not, I might splurge on one of those plastic slides. Fifty bucks on Amazon. By donating it, I could double their infrastructure. Maybe someone else gives an old bucket of Lego, then we’d really be cooking.
Okay, it rubs me up the wrong way. We all have our pet peeves and petty explosions. But does it really matter in the scheme of things?
Consider this. In a recent news feature, our neighbouring island of Alderney expressed concern about retaining young families. The spectre of this problem floats over each of our islands, to differing degrees, and people recognise that unless something changes, it could lead to real trouble.
Yet the gap between “We need young families,” and “What we actually provide for those young families” borders on the comical. Our entertainment options are only defensible if you have literally never been to another country and seen their infrastructure with your own eyes.
But if, as a young family, you start from those countries, you’re going to have a challenging time convincing yourself to stay here. We do not even begin to compete with the Dubais and Singapores of this world, never mind humble South Africa. And that’s what they’re shopping us against.
Sure, you could go to the free skate park, and honestly, that’s a wonderful piece of infrastructure. But there’s no loo. It’s been broken for over a year. Nor can you buy skating equipment at the skate-shop, which you would find attached to every other skatepark in the world. Nor even anything as basic as a sandwich. A bottle of water. And there’s no proper seating for parents. And it’s uncovered, which makes no sense in the British Isles.
So, yes, you can go there, so long as you don’t want to eat, drink, sit, buy parts for your skateboard, remain dry, or relieve yourself. I’m reminded of the English councilperson who, when asked why public benches were so uncomfortable, responded, “Because if we make them nice, people will sit there.”
The key is commercialisation. We have a terrible habit of saying, “Government should…” But really, all it needs to do is get out of the way.
Entities like Spur put up world-class facilities because they are incentivised to do so. The better their offering, the more patronage they attract. So allow it. Encourage it. Let entrepreneurs set up at the Airport, skatepark, Harbour and beaches.
The current reality? A charity-based restaurant recently wanted to use the pavement outside their doors. They were told they would need a permit, and it would cost them several thousand pounds.
Can you imagine people with that mindset reviewing a proposal for commercial stores outside a skatepark? Their heads would explode.
And that’s why we can’t keep young families.
Douglas Kruger is an author and speaker based in St Helier. His books are all available via Amazon and Audible.
