There are some things I don’t like about Bristol. Not many, but some. They are far outweighed by the good bits, in terms of dynamism and history, places to drink and eat (note the order), the sounds and sights – so many to choose from. But, as if I was compiling an endless twitter post, I am today going to dwell on the bad bits because I feel like it.
It goes without saying that our transport system is a shambles. The roads are gridlocked, often all day long. It’s impossible to get anywhere quickly and, as a car driver, it’s my fault. I dislike the way we never seem to get anything done and even if we do it takes years. And if they are sporting improvements, like at the cricket ground, there are always NIMBYs who want to delay progress. It drives me mad, but I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.
But there are two areas I would love to see improvements. One is ‘our’ local newspaper, the Bristol Post, the other is our local radio station BBC Radio Bristol.
I have history with the Post since they fired me as their Bristol Rovers fan columnist back in 2006 at the behest of the football club. So much for a fearlessly free and independent newspaper. At least in those days, the Post was a relatively large circulation organ and very readable. Now, as the printed word declines, the Post is a pale shadow of what it was.
There are always Silly Season stories, like in the summer when there is less to write about. But the Post manages Silly Season stories all year round. Look at this selection from today: ‘Bristol scientists unearth real life version of Star Wars monster owned by Jabba the Hut.’ ‘Why are people happier in Bath than Bristol?’
‘Gross-out warning: Blockage at Bristol house shows what happens when you flush wet wipes.’ This is little better than when the Sunday Sport started out. How long until we read about ‘George Ferguson found on moon’? Doubtless the Post will become a weekly paper before the owners give up altogether. But if the local paper is poor, what about our local radio station?
I’ll pick out the good bits first and to be fair there are a good few. The breakfast show enjoys its best presenter since Roger Bennett was the host of Morning West. Emma Britton has talent in spades and she’s an excellent listen, able to mix serious reporting with light-hearted banter during the often excellent newspaper reviews. Geoff Twentyman’s sports team goes from strength to strength, augmented as it was last summer, by Nick Day’s excellent left field sports show. Add the brilliant Ali Vowles to the mix – why has she never been given one of the major roles on the station I shall never know – and there are bright sparks, but what else. The answer is nothing.
John Darvall’s dire mid morning show, followed by Steve Yabsley’s cult midday effort, always takes me to the off button. There is a new afternoon presenter called Claire Cavanagh who is beginning to show promise but it all fizzles out when Laura Rawlings helps us fall asleep in the evening gridlock. And weekends? Don’t go there. Sunday is so desperate the station has resurrected Anneka Rice’s Treasure Hunt, renamed it Clueless, which is wholly appropriate, and all but unlistenable. I could say more but the station’s output, which is supposed to be aimed at old people like me, but sounds more appropriate for a post funeral audience.
The Bristol Post, given the future of newspapers, cannot be saved but Radio Bristol might be if the will was there. I know of no one under 50 who listens to anything other than the sport and few over that age for that matter. Doesn’t the public service broadcasting ethic – to inform, educate and entertain everyone, not just pensioners with plenty of time on their hands – apply to local radio as well?
There’s not a lot wrong with Bristol but these are the things that drive me mad.
