I went down to our local Planning Office a couple of months ago.
There was a very friendly girl behind the counter. She took my plans and offered to go through them to make sure I was submitting all the right documents.
She went through all the plans and the elevations and the cross-sections. She went through the documentation. She looked happy enough.
Then she came to the location plan.
“This can’t be right” says she.
“What’s wrong?” says I.
“You are applying for planning permission for a marina, with facilities to upgrade to a full harbour, but it’s miles from the sea!”
“And it’s half way up a mountain. Are you mad?”
“Yes” says I, “but surely that has nothing to do with the application?”
So she accepted it. The notices were posted. Nobody objected. I got my permission. Because they all knew I was mad.
Construction starts next year.
And shortly after that Global Warming will start to melt the Polar Icecaps. Not to mention the Greenland Icecap. Sea levels are going to rise.
I’m living on the side of a valley a long way from the sea [the Planning Office got that right], but in a hundred years or so, my little mountainside retreat will be on the shoreline of the new sea level.
Now, when the sea levels rise, all the cities will be underwater, and most of the towns too. Everyone will be taking to the high ground. They’ll need port facilities. They’ll build a new city around my harbour. They’ll call the city Portgrandad.
I won’t be around for any of this, but my great-grandchildren will be lords and masters of all they survey. I’ll be hailed as the Great Visionary.
I may be mad, but I’m not stupid.