A Simple Idea to Transform the Life of Our Cities!
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Good story, you'll like it.
by Jay Walljasper
I am perplexed by the almost complete lack of pedestrian districts in North America. Why is it that car-free streets—designed for pleasurable strolling, shopping and hanging out—which have become as common as stoplights or McDonalds in European city centers, are almost non-existent here?
It's not Europe, it's Calgary, Alberta, where folks enjoy a sunny day on the Stephen Avenue pedestrian district. (Credit: Marco Derksen under a Creative Commons license from Flickr.com)
I’ve only seen a few—a couple of blocks in downtown Boston, Rue Prince Arthur in Montreal, Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica and short stretches of downtown streets in college towns like Boulder, Ithaca, Iowa City, Charlottesville and Burlington, Vermont. (A glance at Wikipedia turns up a few more, although I notice many on the list, like the Nicollet Mall here in Minneapolis, are not truly car-free.)
Look what we’re missing. The heart of many, if not most, German, Italian, Dutch, Scandinavian and, increasingly, South American big cities are bustling pedestrian zones that have become favorite spots for young people to gather, lovers to linger, kids to romp, women to show off their new clothes (and discreetly admire the looks of passers-by), men to admire the looks of passers-by (and discreetly show-off their new clothes) and everybody to feel part of the wider community.
Our one widespread experiment in reclaiming the streets—the downtown transit malls of the ‘60s and ‘70s—failed in most cases. That’s because they were usually desperate measures to cure sickly downtown shopping districts overwhelmed by competition from shopping malls proliferating across the suburban landscape.
Another factor in transit malls’ rapid rise and fall is that they were not actually pedestrian places—big buses rumbling up and down the avenue quashed the carefree, car-free ambience that fosters exuberant streetlife.
Finally last week, I discovered a genuine Euro-style ped street in the most unlikely spot: Calgary, Alberta—a sprawling city whose economy depends on the petroleum industry. Right in the center of its downtown, among all the glass-sided skyscrapers and traffic-choked five-lane avenues, you can happily wander five blocks down the middle of Stephen Avenue, passing sidewalk cafes and swank shops, playful public art and bustling public spaces, unencumbered by cars or trucks. It felt too good to be true.
And it was. I returned to Stephen Avenue for a twilight stroll when blue still brightens the June sky till after ten, and discovered cars cruising its narrow lanes. At 6 p.m., like Cinderella’s pumpkin coach in reverse, it turns back into a traffic artery--which makes no sense because the volume of cars and trucks downtown is easing up at that hour.
Why surrender this delightful pedestrian oasis to traffic when there’s no pressing need? I can only guess it’s the principle of the thing. In North America, the rightful role of roads is to carry traffic, so even if you want to pedestrianize a few blocks during the day for shoppers and the noontime lunch crowd, you are obliged to welcome back the Toyotas and Lincolns in the evening.
Still, Stephen Avenue proves: If you keep out the cars, the pedestrians will come.
The notion that cars are the Kings of the Road is a relatively new attitude. For almost all of human history, the city street functioned as a vital public space—it’s where youngsters played, teens flirted, dogs slept and everyone else chatted with their friends. That all changed between the 1920s and the 1970s, depending where you live, as motorists claimed these commons for their exclusive use. We are poorer today because of this—literally in some cases because to experience the instinctual joy of hanging out in the streets you must travel to some faraway spot.
For the rest of the story go to the link:
by Jay Walljasper
I am perplexed by the almost complete lack of pedestrian districts in North America. Why is it that car-free streets—designed for pleasurable strolling, shopping and hanging out—which have become as common as stoplights or McDonalds in European city centers, are almost non-existent here?
It's not Europe, it's Calgary, Alberta, where folks enjoy a sunny day on the Stephen Avenue pedestrian district. (Credit: Marco Derksen under a Creative Commons license from Flickr.com)
I’ve only seen a few—a couple of blocks in downtown Boston, Rue Prince Arthur in Montreal, Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica and short stretches of downtown streets in college towns like Boulder, Ithaca, Iowa City, Charlottesville and Burlington, Vermont. (A glance at Wikipedia turns up a few more, although I notice many on the list, like the Nicollet Mall here in Minneapolis, are not truly car-free.)
Look what we’re missing. The heart of many, if not most, German, Italian, Dutch, Scandinavian and, increasingly, South American big cities are bustling pedestrian zones that have become favorite spots for young people to gather, lovers to linger, kids to romp, women to show off their new clothes (and discreetly admire the looks of passers-by), men to admire the looks of passers-by (and discreetly show-off their new clothes) and everybody to feel part of the wider community.
Our one widespread experiment in reclaiming the streets—the downtown transit malls of the ‘60s and ‘70s—failed in most cases. That’s because they were usually desperate measures to cure sickly downtown shopping districts overwhelmed by competition from shopping malls proliferating across the suburban landscape.
Another factor in transit malls’ rapid rise and fall is that they were not actually pedestrian places—big buses rumbling up and down the avenue quashed the carefree, car-free ambience that fosters exuberant streetlife.
Finally last week, I discovered a genuine Euro-style ped street in the most unlikely spot: Calgary, Alberta—a sprawling city whose economy depends on the petroleum industry. Right in the center of its downtown, among all the glass-sided skyscrapers and traffic-choked five-lane avenues, you can happily wander five blocks down the middle of Stephen Avenue, passing sidewalk cafes and swank shops, playful public art and bustling public spaces, unencumbered by cars or trucks. It felt too good to be true.
And it was. I returned to Stephen Avenue for a twilight stroll when blue still brightens the June sky till after ten, and discovered cars cruising its narrow lanes. At 6 p.m., like Cinderella’s pumpkin coach in reverse, it turns back into a traffic artery--which makes no sense because the volume of cars and trucks downtown is easing up at that hour.
Why surrender this delightful pedestrian oasis to traffic when there’s no pressing need? I can only guess it’s the principle of the thing. In North America, the rightful role of roads is to carry traffic, so even if you want to pedestrianize a few blocks during the day for shoppers and the noontime lunch crowd, you are obliged to welcome back the Toyotas and Lincolns in the evening.
Still, Stephen Avenue proves: If you keep out the cars, the pedestrians will come.
The notion that cars are the Kings of the Road is a relatively new attitude. For almost all of human history, the city street functioned as a vital public space—it’s where youngsters played, teens flirted, dogs slept and everyone else chatted with their friends. That all changed between the 1920s and the 1970s, depending where you live, as motorists claimed these commons for their exclusive use. We are poorer today because of this—literally in some cases because to experience the instinctual joy of hanging out in the streets you must travel to some faraway spot.
For the rest of the story go to the link:
