Some places on earth are stunning just as they are – Utah’s Bryce Canyon; the Pitons in St. Lucia; the Canadian Rockies; Kaieteur Falls – but many of the beautiful places we encounter in the more affluent countries are actually landscapes converted into eye-catching scenery by development and enhancement.
There is a valley, for example, in Toronto, that was simply bush in the 1960s; today the six-lane Don Valley Parkway winds through it in what can be almost a countryside drive (when there are no traffic jams, that is) in the middle of a huge city. That spectacle, now much admired, was developed. It wasn’t always there.
In Dutch St. Maarten, behind the downtown array of stores, there is a long crescent-shaped beach. It is some 50 yards deep in places. A few years ago, the government came up with a plan to build a wide boardwalk on the high slope of the beach, abutting the existing businesses, stretching from downtown to the nearby hotels. People were immediately drawn to the area – strolling, dining in cafes, listening to music, even late-night shopping. Today the boardwalk (funded, by the way, largely by the private sector) appears on St. Maarten postcards; a piece of created scenic beauty.
We go to these places and see these things, and don’t always consider that beautiful settings are often generated by a combination of impressive landscape and visionary development; in other words, substantial financial investment is behind them.
In similar fashion, if we had the resources to do it, there are sections of our country that could be made into stunning vistas. We pass them every day, impervious to the potential.
If, for example, the East Coast Road stretching from, say, Courida Park to upper Camp Road existed in the affluent world, it would be made into a scenic wonder. The potential is clearly there. Here’s how it might go:
The median in the centre of the roadway, all the way to the Russian Embassy bend, would be planted with a variety of flowering shrubs (red, yellow, blue, etc.). The seawall to the right would be painted in colourful designs (there is some of this already) and selected advertising, varying every 30 yards, all the way to the Kitty foreshore. The wall would be equipped with short light poles, similar to the ones in the median, to give some illumination at night, and every so often a wooden addition to the wall holds benches where people can sit without blocking walkers.
The grassy parapets on both sides of the roadway would be neatly trimmed, with occasional small flowering trees (alternating yellow and red poui), and every half-mile or so, in a sizeable bay, a roadside vendor sells assorted drinks and fruits. Each bay is equipped with a small toilet facility, and garbage disposal. (This approach takes it as a given that we have proper garbage collection. It’s also worth noting that litter is often a spasmodic condition; neglected landscape is there 24/7.)
As we approach the UG junction, there is a small shopping arcade on the south-west corner with more shopper options (including phone top-up) and adequate parking. Identified by attractive signage, it can be easily accessed both by travellers going west and by eastbound motorists turning right at the traffic light.
Planning regulations will require all open grassy areas along the stretch to be properly manicured and fenced, as some already are. Once that environment is spruced up it will be a catalyst for every inhabitant of the landscape to follow suit.
From Ocean View going west, there would be a boardwalk on the seawall side stretching to the Russian Embassy corner; portable kiosks would operate on weekend evenings. Loud DJs would be banned, but small sets or live combos could play there on weekends, with a variety of music being offered.
I’m going to pull off and take a rest by Conversation Tree – I’m exhausted by all this work – but I’m sure you get the idea. That stretch of East Coast landscape that we sail by unnoticed every day is a potential scenic bonanza as opposed to the rather neglected corridor spectacle it now presents.
The upgrading would essentially generate social benefits – beautification and recreation use – but there will also be financial ones: properly zoned, the area would become attractive to certain businesses and land value to the south will increase. Tourists would “ooh” and “aah” over it. Residents would take pictures and send to their diaspora contacts. It would become a model for other areas to emulate. The public image fortification would be enormous.
There are pockets of this kind of beautification now (Liliendaal Convention Centre; Promenade Gardens; parts of the Essequibo Coast), but our general landscape is lying there with virtually no attention. Parapets are not trimmed; dead tree limbs hang askew; open land in the heart of town looks like jungle. We have a generally tattered look.
Of course, talk is cheap; to create such a transformation will take copious amounts of money and cooperation among various government departments – both conditions which are often lacking now. But we need to start thinking along these lines, so that if and when the money comes, we will have some idea of what to do with it.
And here’s another thought: we can do something immediately that would go a long way to repair the often bedraggled appearance of Guyana; we could cut the grass. That alone would be a transformation. It wouldn’t take an astronomical sum to trim the public places, and each homeowner could follow suit for a few dollars.
Check it yourself. Drive around tomorrow, particularly in Georgetown. Look around you as you go and imagine all the overgrown grass neatly cut on level parapets everywhere you pass. The change would be dramatic. Picture Waterloo Street, for example, north of Middle Street, with that savannah of grass in the middle gone. Take a drive east along Lamaha Street from Carmichael; look on your left as you go and imagine all the vegetation you see there has been cut level – all the way to Sheriff Street. Imagine the whole town like that. Wouldn’t that be heavenly?
All right, we will have to do some leveling, too, but picture a neat landscape of trimmed grass verges every place you pass. We could do it in a couple weeks, and of course we would have to keep maintaining it. It wouldn’t cost the earth, and the result would be striking.
So while we’re waiting for the big changes to come, I’m imploring the Lord above, and those responsible below: please, can’t we just cut the grass in the meantime? It won’t break the bank.
