Pavement 17: Blemish
In the early spring of 2010 the town centre regeneration of Stoke Newington’s Church street finally came to an end (see previous post for details). Residents were delighted with the new smoothness on the street, and doctors were overwhelmed by the decline in ankle injuries sustained by their patients living within the N16 post-code. My accounts focused on how perambulators, wheeled suitcases, cars and lorries all benefitted from the smoothness, but having recently acquired a bike I can vouch for the extra speed that is generated from cycling on two wheels over this tarmac too.
But, only eight months after the last dirty track marks left by the highway maintenance trucks has faded, the sound of a pneumatic drill once again welcomed Church Street residents last week. Proprietors of restaurants quivered in their boots, recalling the experience when the pavement in front of their businesses was torn up. Reassuringly, looking out of the window to find the source of the noise didn’t agitate the bile of fear of a prolonged disturbance to the leafy calm of the street. It was just a Virgin man cutting a small hole in the road.
The noise lasted about 10 minutes. It was loud, but the engineers just needed to put a cable into the road, maybe its fibre optics just like they advertise on television with cherished cartoon characters of yore. The arrows outline the green square and underneath this square was a metal grill. In terms of road maintenance this was mere surface cosmetics. They responsibly cordoned off their work and didn’t leave much mess, but their re-patching job left much to be desired.
When the pneumatic drill first dug in to the road it was the first direct cut into the surface that the road had been subjected to since the renovation. I was pleased when they did not go too deep, or cover too wide a surface area.
The road will be subject to much maintenance over the decades ahead, but you might expect that such a nicely surfaced street would receive a little respect from the workers with their pneumatic power machinery. If this was a fine blazer or winter coat, would you repair it with such a messy patch. No squared edges or any attempt at finding a level, just a splodge that looks like a spilt coffee, or a stain from someone’s Friday night excesses. Worse still, cigarette buts, leaves and street debris collect on its sticky absorbent surface. The arrows’ previous function of guiding the engineers work, now accentuates the mark left behind.
The road will, of course, sustain the hammers and blows of many improvements in the future, but if all of them left such a blemish the road would soon be as bumpy as a off-road motorbike track.
