Off Street Parking
There are more than 27 million private cars currently on the roads in Great Britain and at this time of year, most are trying to make it to the seaside. At the first sign of sun, coastal resorts are under siege from frothing travellers at the tail of a trip that started with the line: ‘Let’s have a nice day out at the coast’ and ended in tears and a large parking fine.
On average, around 8 million tickets are issued annually to those unlucky enough to have crossed the (yellow) line, with half of them issued in London.
The RAC Foundation revealed last week that last year, councils collected more than £1.4bn in fines, permits and penalties, of which £565m is pure profit. Technically, all tickets issued by local authorities have to be in line with the Road Traffic Regulation Act of 1984. Although there is no limit to what can be charged (why not?) tickets should only be issued in order to ensure the smooth running of the traffic and that all revenue raised is to be used for traffic-related purposes. But in the real world it is generally agreed that parking fines have become brilliant revenue raisers with the money used to plug holes in the town hall budget. Implicit in the fact that those councils rated as ‘excellent’ by the Audit Commission are now given the green light to use any surplus for the general budget.
Hastings has a ‘take no prisoners’ parking policy. The residential zone extends across all streets and covers the entire weekend late into the night. Those foolish enough to ‘chance it’ invariably end up wailing by the roadside. And why bother? Why spend your day out driving around looking for that all elusive free space? It doesn’t exist. And if it does, it has just been nabbed by the man in the blue Corsa who has reversed halfway up a one-way street screeching and using hand signals that don’t appear in the Highway Code.
Personally, I always prefer the train. But Mark, like many men, prefers the comfort of his own car – even if it is an aged VW and not the soft-top sports of his dreams. And once he arrives, his only source of comfort is driving on to the lump of tarmac at the bottom of the garden. It has taken me a while to realise the allure of this little rectangle but now, when faced with delivering more unpalatable news, I sweeten it with the three soothing words: Off Street Parking. Works every time.
Next week: Dressing up.
On average, around 8 million tickets are issued annually to those unlucky enough to have crossed the (yellow) line, with half of them issued in London.
The RAC Foundation revealed last week that last year, councils collected more than £1.4bn in fines, permits and penalties, of which £565m is pure profit. Technically, all tickets issued by local authorities have to be in line with the Road Traffic Regulation Act of 1984. Although there is no limit to what can be charged (why not?) tickets should only be issued in order to ensure the smooth running of the traffic and that all revenue raised is to be used for traffic-related purposes. But in the real world it is generally agreed that parking fines have become brilliant revenue raisers with the money used to plug holes in the town hall budget. Implicit in the fact that those councils rated as ‘excellent’ by the Audit Commission are now given the green light to use any surplus for the general budget.
Hastings has a ‘take no prisoners’ parking policy. The residential zone extends across all streets and covers the entire weekend late into the night. Those foolish enough to ‘chance it’ invariably end up wailing by the roadside. And why bother? Why spend your day out driving around looking for that all elusive free space? It doesn’t exist. And if it does, it has just been nabbed by the man in the blue Corsa who has reversed halfway up a one-way street screeching and using hand signals that don’t appear in the Highway Code.
Personally, I always prefer the train. But Mark, like many men, prefers the comfort of his own car – even if it is an aged VW and not the soft-top sports of his dreams. And once he arrives, his only source of comfort is driving on to the lump of tarmac at the bottom of the garden. It has taken me a while to realise the allure of this little rectangle but now, when faced with delivering more unpalatable news, I sweeten it with the three soothing words: Off Street Parking. Works every time.
Next week: Dressing up.