Freaky Friday focus a growing issue
This is getting weird now. Having just experienced one of the freakiest Fridays of my life, I’m feeling distinctly unsettled – and it’s a strange sensation understood by residents across the Coast.
My own bizarre scenario began at 4.30pm when I attended a house auction in an adjacent street.
I sensed something odd was afoot when I realised I was part of a literal gang of nosy neighbours marching to bear witness to this brave new world of buyers.
We deadset looked like a gang of zombies, mindlessly drawn to the property apocalypse. And indeed, there was a bloodbath to behold.
Before our very eyes we watched as a small, scruffy home – the kind they advertise as “renovate or detonate” – and located on the wrong side of the Gold
Coast Hwy, sold under the hammer for $1.3 million.
My husband and I wandered home in a daze … What? Why? How?
For over an hour, the homeowners in our own street gathered in the cul-de-sac to ponder our property … along with our own existence. Was this real life? Who even are we?
But also … should we sell? Where would we go? What could we afford? What about the children? Will they live with us forever?
Still reeling from that unreal estate, my husband and I took advantage of a rare child-free night and went out to dinner – again, this is not regular programming.
We couldn’t be bothered to go hang with the young, hip and trendy of Nobbys so we decided to go west – into the deep, dark badlands of Robina.
As we arrived at our
destination – the facility formerly known as the Robina Tavern – I realised I had entered another dimension.
Because Robina Pavilion was pumping. I mean, not-aparking-space-for-blocks, line-out-the-door, selfieflashes-like-paparazzi-on2000s-Paris-Hilton insane.
I had to check my GPS to make sure this was really happening in … Robina?
That suburb and
I have a long history … back in 1991, my parents bought a home in the quaintly and incorrectly named Robina Quays, at a time when that area was basically a newly renovated swamp.
Having just moved from Dallas, Texas, I was frightened. All of these empty, soulless houses and not a shop to be seen. When the IFS petrol station on Robina Parkway finally opened
I was, literally, pumped.
Living in Robina became the inspiration for my ongoing interest in the development of our city. I am terrified of the vast nothingness that was life in the outer GC ’burbs of the early ’90s. Like nature, I abhor a vacuum.
Yet look at Robina now … all grown up. I have to say, I am so very proud of that little village – 30 years later, it’s really realised it’s potential.
But my question is … where is this all heading?
On the one hand,
I think it’s awesome that a residential pocket like Robina can become its own hotspot – it’s no longer a sleepy satellite suburb but a selfsustaining village.
On the other, if restaurants in Robina are booked out and not-beachside shacks are selling for well over a million dollars, how much more room do we have to grow?
Is this freaky Friday snapshot of our city the new reality or a scene from a bubble that is bound to burst?
No matter how many new arrivals are headed to our city, no matter how many jobs they are bringing with them, is this growth really sustainable?
How do we plan for the future when the alternative paths lead to divergent outcomes?
Which is why, when it comes to the Gold Coast’s contentious City Plan, the council have done the right thing to hit the pause button on growth.
Last week, councillors unanimously approved City Plan changes which slashed growth targets in Biggera Waters, Southport West and Labrador by 41 per cent.
That’s not to say that growth shouldn’t happen in those areas, and for the good of our city I’d far rather see higher density than urban sprawl, but let’s just take a minute to assess the scene before we barrel forwards.
We’re in a tricky spot – reduce growth and watch property prices rise ever higher, increase growth and suffer under the burden of overwhelmed infrastructure. Do we screw over those not yet on the property ladder (ie our children) or do we screw over those who bought into a dream that is now becoming a nightmare?
It seems a strange tactic, but slow and steady may well help us win this fast-paced race. In these topsy-turvy times, strange is just the name of the game.