Sparkling Rocket Man.
As I settle into my Swiss-made chair, the sea’s rhythmic waves offer a soothing backdrop to my thoughts. My new smart hover-awning, a marvel of modern technology, shields us from the relentless afternoon sun. Unbearably hot until I got this new gadget last week, the terrace is now a haven for reflection and observation. A gentle breeze stirs a welcome reprieve, bringing with it the local windsurfing crowd.
They dance on the waves, their sails vibrant against the blue, each leap a testament to the artificial reef’s success. This reef, the final piece of the PRICS masterplan, has helped transform our relationship with the ocean. Where once the sea was a mere backdrop to the city’s bustling waterfront, it’s now the heart of our community’s resurgence. People from all walks of life – from spirited grannies and recovery groups to focused professionals working remotely – find solace and joy in the once chilly and underused waters.
My gaze drifts to the horizon, and I can’t help but marvel at how our city has changed. Following ‘Pandemic 1,’ the sea swimming craze ignited a shift in our collective mindset. The waters grew warmer and more inviting, and suddenly, the sea wasn’t just a scenic view but a catalyst for growth and innovation.
In those transformative years, we had a Mayor – the first non-Lord Mayor with a vision as bold as the sea itself. She saw beyond the confines of our thirty-mile radius, reaching out to distant shores for inspiration and alliance. Under her guidance, our city forged a cultural and economic bridge with the Normans, a venture that paid off beyond probably even her wildest dreams.
As the Côte d’Azur wilted under the scorching sun, Deauville rose to become the new St Tropez. And it was here, in our revitalised city, where the future of travel was born. An engineering marvel, the anti-gravity flying boats, crafted by an ingenious Italian student who chose our city as his home, now connect us to the Côte Fleurie in 27 minutes flat. Smooth and unfazed by the weather, these boats symbolise our leap into a future where boundaries and borders are redefined.
Next weekend, we’re taking the flying boat to visit my granddaughter, taking along a case of Moet-Hambledon. As Champagne’s legacy wanes, our region excels in creating what is now known as Champanglais. I’ve heard whispers that Hull is becoming the new hotspot; even our producers are eyeing its potential as our climate grows drier.
As the sun begins its descent, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, I reflect on my morning adventure. The cable car to the South Downs, a relic of a bygone era, still holds a special charm for me. As the world races towards the future with Turbo-Rocket-Drones (TRDs), I find solace in this slower, more scenic journey. It’s a ritual – witnessing the sunrise from the first car, the landscape bathed in a soft, golden light.
The decision in 2030 to build a Norman Foster-designed cable car to the South Downs and repurpose Charles Dickens’ birthplace as the cable car terminal was a stroke of genius. Though the travelators from the terminal to the beach are now obsolete, thanks to the TRDs, the cable car endures. Dickens wrote about polluted cities and idealised the countryside, and for many of us, ‘the cable’ is a reminder that we once turned our back on the National Park on our doorstep.
Tomorrow promises another adventure. I will test my new robotic knees by walking to Go-Sport for the World Sea Diving Championships. The transformation of Gosport, a simple yet ingenious rebranding with a hyphen and a capital letter, has turned this place into a thriving watersport hub. The once-congested harbour entrance, now a sprawling promenade, is a marvel of engineering and environmental foresight. Walking along this coastal stretch, one can’t help but admire the seamless integration of leisure, wildlife conservation, and coastal defence.
Rumours swirl that the artificially alive Elton John, weary of Deauville’s glitz, has chosen Alverstoke for his retirement. The thought brings a smile to my face. Our little city has evolved, attracting global icons and becoming a beacon of innovation and cultural fusion. As I ponder this, I realise how our old mayor’s vision has come to fruition – we’re not just a city by the sea but a city of the sea; its rhythm and possibilities are now part of the very fabric of our lives.
The evening draws near, and the windsurfers return to shore, their sails folding like the wings of colourful birds at rest. I savour the last rays of the sun, my mind dancing with possibilities. Once a mere spectator of the sea, our city is now actively participating in its tales and treasures. From the sunken Maersk, a diver’s paradise and ecological wonder, to the world-renowned Champanglais vineyards, we have embraced change and innovation at every turn. And next year, I hear they are updating Elton’s neural pathways, and he’s headlining Victorious.
This week’s web links include a vision that will probably happen, a Tangier garden, Ox kidney and Champanglais.
Feel free to let me know if you have any comments or suggestions. You will always find me at carl@carlarchitect.co.uk.
This Week’s Links:
An upside-down skyscraper vision inside a mountain.
A floating swimming pool in NYC that is going to happen.
A BMW-designed hydrogen jet.
After all this futuristic vision, here is a very lovely garden in Tangier.
The carnivore diet has led me to Ox kidney. One pound brought me 400 grams of nutrition. And here is something to do with it.
And get yourself some Champanglais before the price doubles.
Main image credit: A city of the future linking the sea to the hills with cable cars by DALL-E
