The reason why the Welsh uplands have been targeted for so much wind farm development is straightforward.  It is the policy of the Welsh Government (“WG”) to encourage onshore wind farm development in the so-called “strategic search areas” identified by its planning document, Technical Advice Note 8 (“TAN 8”).

Those strategic search areas, in many parts of  Wales, coincide with Forestry Commission land, which is owned by the WG itself.  Thus, an application for consent to the construction a large wind farm to be sited in the Clocaenog forest, near Ruthin, is expected to be made in the near future, and a large area of forestry land in Mid Wales is also the subject of similar applications.

Large-scale wind farm development applications are considered by the Infrastructure Planning Commission (“IPC”), an independent body set up under the last Labour Government.  The IPC considers all applications in the light of National Policy Statements and other Government policy at all levels. 

In Wales, TAN 8 is an important element of Government policy that must be considered by the IPC.  Given that TAN 8 sets out a presumption in favour of wind farm development in the strategic search areas, it is hardly surprising that developers have sought to site new wind farms in rural Wales. 

Indeed, for so long as TAN 8 remains in its present form, it is very likely that further applications will be made, until such time as the WG’s target of 1.7GW achieved through renewable generation in the strategic search areas is hit.  That is more than four times the present installed capacity.

A few weeks after the protests in Cardiff, the First Minister, Carwyn Jones, said he believed the level of wind farm development in Montgomeryshire was “unacceptable in view of its wider impacts on the local area”.  However, since he made that statement, the WG has not changed the presumptions set out in TAN 8. 

The fact is that until such time as the WG addresses the issue of TAN 8, further applications for wind farm consents will inevitably be made.  The statement made by the First Minister will be of no force.

British Government policy is to renew and restore the electricity generating capacity that this country needs, which was neglected under the last Labour Government.  All consent applications will be dealt with efficiently and impartially by the IPC, and by reference to existing Government policy, whether made at Westminster or Cardiff Bay. 

The position, therefore, is clear.  If the Welsh Government really is concerned about wind farm proliferation, it should amend TAN 8.  If it does not do so, it must expect further applications to be made

Spent today, like a third of the rest of humanity, watching the royal wedding.  Most of you watched it yourselves, too, so I won’t go on about it.

After lunch, we went over to Llanbedr Dyffryn Clwyd, a lovely village at the foot of the Clwydian range, where I was to reopen the village hall, which has recently been restored.  The new hall is fully sustainable, benefiting from solar energy, recycled rainwater and a host of other features that make it, I am told, the most environmentally friendly community hall in Wales.  This enabled me to make a joke about “how green IS my valley” (“dyffryn” is the Welsh word for “valley” and yes, I admit it’s less than Wildean).

We spent the next hour drawing raffles, eating cake and chatting to people.  One lady was a harpist and told me a fascinating story about Nansi Richards, the famous harpist known as Telynores Maldwyn, who was a friend of John Harvey Kellogg, the Corn Flakes magnate.  Kellogg was in process of packaging Corn Flakes, which had previously been sold in bags.  Nansi told him he should put a cockerel on the box, because it was a morning food and “Kellogg” sounded like “ceiliog”, the Welsh for “rooster”.  Kellogg took Nansi’s advice and the cockerel features on Kelloggs packaging to this day.

Se non è vero, è molto ben trovato.

We then went on to Gellifor, another Clwydian jewel, where we joined a traditional street party, complete with bunting, funny hats and bags of bonhomie.

It was a seriously good day, full of happiness and genuine affection for our royal family.  They are truly our country’s greatest asset. 

The article, in truth, adds little to the debate as to the rival merits of the Alternative Vote and First Past the Post electoral systems.    Sieghart’s principal argument is the perennial one of the pro-AV lobby, that FPP is “unfair”:

For much of my life, I’ve been doomed to live in places where my vote doesn’t count. Voting for my preferred party has been as useful as tearing up my ballot paper and scattering it like confetti over the canvassers.

The speciousness of the argument is immediately obvious.  Ms Sieghart’s vote counts precisely as much as anyone else’s.  Her problem is that, in the areas in which she has chosen to live, her party hasn’t been sufficiently popular.  That is unfortunate for Ms Sieghart and a good reason  for her to work hard to help increase its local popularity, not for changing the electoral system. 

Sieghart goes on to explain how  AV would improve “fairness”:

Most annoyingly for the voter, it often forces us to vote dishonestly. We can’t cast a ballot for the party we want, but instead have to vote tactically for the party that has the best chance of beating the party we like least. This in itself relies on making assumptions about which party is currently in second place and how other voters in the constituency are likely to act on those assumptions.

Under AV, no vote is a wasted vote. If you want to vote Green or Lib Dem or Monster Raving Loony Party, that’s fine. You can happily put a ’1′ by the party you like best, in the knowledge that your ’2′ and ’3′ will also help to influence the result. The tellers count your votes and – at last – your vote counts.

That argument, too, is well-rehearsed and is also specious.  What Sieghart is saying, in effect, is that, rather than casting your single vote in a way that is, in her terms, “dishonest” under FPP, you should do precisely that with your second vote under AV.  And then do it again with your third vote. 

That, of course, would make sense to someone such as Sieghart, who is a self-confessed third party supporter, because AV is a system weighted in favour of third parties.  But it is an argument for skewed third party political advantage, not for anything that might reasonably be called  fairness.

So nothing really new from Ms Sieghart and, ordinarily, I wouldn’t have commented on her article, had it not been for her display of ignorance of the way politics works in Wales:

Then the Conservatives on the right point to the “danger” of the referendum being carried by Scottish, Welsh and Northern Irish votes. Because the devolved assemblies and parliament are up for election next week, voters there are more likely to turn out. They are also more likely to vote “yes” to AV because they have seen different voting systems in action and have experienced their perfectly sensible results.

Actually, most Conservatives I know welcome the fact that the referendum is being held on the same day as the Assembly election.  Since devolution was instituted, voters in Wales have shown a distinct lack of engagement with Assembly elections, a matter of concern to all political parties.  In 2007, turnout was only 43.3 per cent and in no election has it reached 50 per cent.

Having canvassed for Conservative candidates across North Wales over the last few days, I can say that there is considerable interest in the referendum and I am pretty sure that voters will turn out to express their opinion on AV.  That should, in turn,  boost turnout in the Assembly election, which can only be a good thing. 

But for Ms Sieghart to suggest that the Welsh will embrace AV because of their unqualified enthusiasm for the exquisite intricacies of the D’Hondt system of proportional representation is to take speciousness to a wholly new level.

Self, Cllr Cheryl Carlisle, Roger Cummins

Disappointingly, the weather has broken today.  The barbecue Easter we were promised seems to have gone the way of last year’s barbecue summer.

Nevertheless, the Saturday street market in Colwyn Bay was bustling when I and a group of Conservatives did some leafleting for the No to AV campaign.

I’m pleased to say that we received a very positive response, many people observing that AV was a very contrived method of selecting an MP.  If we do win, it will be the straightforward simplicity of FPP that carries the day.

 We were joined very briefly by a group of Plaid Cymru campaigners, led by Phil Edwards, a local councillor.  I asked Phil where Plaid stood on AV and was told that they are urging people to vote “Ie”.  

A little surprising, perhaps, when you read this analysis.  Sadly, however, I have to conclude that the prospect of a Plaid wipeout, albeit immensely desirable, is neverthess insufficient reason to opt for a dodgy electoral system.

This afternoon, I went over to Delyn to campaign with Matt Wright, the hard-working local candidate.  Did an awful lot of walking, which really wasn’t too much of a hardship, given the wonderful weather we are enjoying.

In Mountain View Avenue, Mynydd Isa, I stopped to chat with a gentleman who was creosoting his fence.  How, I asked,  did he feel about AV?

“Disastrous,” he replied.

“Do you realise that if we’d had AV at the last general election, that [expletive deleted] man Gordon Brown would still be running the country?  It doesn’t bear thinking about.”

I must confess that the possibility hadn’t occurred to me, but it is probably the most compelling argument against the Alternative Vote system I have yet heard. 

This morning was on my home turf of Clwyd West, where Darren Millar was, I am pleased to say, entirely unfazed by the puerile Labour attacks and completely focused on the business of retaining his seat.  I have no doubt whatever that he will win.

The afternoon saw me in Prestatyn, supporting Vale of Clwyd candidate Ian Gunning and his campaign team.  Ian is a bluff, sensible former police officer and well tapped into the issues that affect his patch.  He will be an excellent Assembly Member for an area that has declined significantly after fourteen years of Labour government, both in Westminster and Cardiff.

This sort of tactic is nothing new, of course, and is the surest possible sign of desperation in the Labour ranks.

It can, however, be very distressing to be on the receiving end of such rubbish.  At the last general election, I learned that telephone canvassers acting on behalf of one of my opponents were spreading slanderous information about me.  I made it absolutely clear to the agent of the relevant candidate that if I became aware of any repetition of the conduct, I would have no hesitation in taking whatever action was appropriate.

The agent denied that the canvassers were under any instructions to defame me, but, miraculously, the conduct came to an abrupt stop and was never repeated.

That, of course, was a case of defamation.  What Darren is experiencing at the hands of the Labour party is nothing more than vulgar abuse.

My advice to him is: rise above it and carry on to win.

John Denham, the shadow Business Secretary, and a long-time advocate of constitutional tinkering, was one of the most outspoken:

“First-past-the-post supports the dominant two parties and is unfair on the third party. In huge areas of southern England, Labour is the third party.

“The judgment of the Labour No campaign is wrong in principle on electoral reform and bad for the Labour Party politically. It doesn’t take into account the country’s electoral geography.”

Personally, I have never understood the argument that first-past-the-post is somehow unfair.  It is hard to think of a system fairer than one under which the candidate who secures the most votes actually wins.

However, Denham’s criticism that FPP is “unfair” on the third party is telling.   If you are in with a chance as one of the two top candidates, you are unlikely to complain too much about the current arrangements.  If, on the other hand, you know you don’t have a prayer, then you are all the more likely to want to gerrymander the system to make it possible to sneak in by the back door.

AV, put simply, is a loser’s charter.  But, fact is, if you’re afraid of losing, you really shouldn’t do politics.  I lost in two general elections when the Tory party was in the doldrums.  I never regretted a moment of either experience, accepting, as most politicians do, that if you live by the sword, you die by the sword. 

And more than 100 Labour MPs agree with me.

No, it doesn’t.  It offers an opportunity to express an opinion as to which electoral system is fairer.  Nothing else.  Hope and fear don’t enter the equation.  It’s a really silly, hackneyed, unoriginal thing to say.

Every time I hear Miliband speak, I wonder why he persists in employing a speechwriter of such stunningly platitudinous banality.   Doesn’t he want to be Prime Minister?

Spent today campaigning in the Welsh Assembly elections across North Wales.

First stop was Anglesey, where the excellent candidate, Paul Williams (aka the Druid), took me to Holyhead to discuss the town’s economic problems with local businesspeople.  We were accompanied by Antoinette Sandbach, one of our lead regional list candidates.

As Paul pointed out, Anglesey is the very poorest local authority area in the whole of the UK and Holyhead is its own poorest part.  The town, however, has many potential advantages, including its busy ferry port and its proximity to the site of the proposed Wylfa B nuclear power station.

Paul’s idea is to press for Holyhead to become an Enterprise Zone.  All credit to him for his ambition.  One of the 21 Enterprise Zones announced in the Budget will be at Birkenhead, a very short distance indeed from North Wales.  If our region is to be competitive, we need to ensure that Zones are established here.  Economic development is devolved to the Welsh Assembly Government, so it is essential that we have strong voices such as Paul’s in Cardiff Bay after 5 May. 

I was impressed by the positive reception that Paul received wherever we went this morning and am very optimistic that Ynys Môn will be a Tory gain.  Heaven knows that Plaid have done little enough to justify retaining it.

This afternoon took me to my old stamping ground of Aberconwy, where I did a few hours’ canvassing for Janet Finch-Saunders, the well-known Conservative group leader on Conwy County Council. 

Speaking to people on their doorsteps is the best part of campaigning.  It is enjoyable and also effective.  I was very pleased at the level of personal support Janet clearly enjoys on her patch, which should help her to victory on election day.

I was also extremely pleased at the level of opposition to AV; as one lady put it, “We really must stop mucking about with our constitution.”

Notwithstanding, I do like cars and in my constituency town of Ruthin one day last summer, I saw a car that was – to my wholly subjective eye – utterly beautiful.  It was a 2003 Peugeot 406 coupé, a model that had previously, inexplicably, escaped my notice.  

I spent several minutes walking around it, admiring the purity and elegant simplicity of its lines.  It was, according to a discreet badge low on its flank, a product of Farina, the Italian design house responsible for some of the most exciting models of such exotic marques as Ferrari, Maserati and Alfa Romeo, as well the more interesting offerings of such home-grown names as Morris and Austin in pre-British Leyland days.   It was just a mass-produced car, but it was gorgeous.

That’s the thing about cars: uniquely among machines, they have the capacity to inspire, sometimes in equal measure, love and loathing, frustration and adoration.  They are not just bits of metal; they are extensions of ourselves.  When we are on the move, they become our homes.  We personalise them, spending hundreds of pounds on accessories. We cosset them when we are still in love with them and we take it personally when they let us down. 

 We never feel that way about, for example, our dishwashers.

For most of us, cars are our second-biggest purchase.  A big chunk of our income goes into buying, running and maintaining them.  So we need to be sure that they are as reliable and economical as possible.   While few of us are so naïve or optimistic as to think that we can make money on a car, we also need to be assured that the “residuals” are acceptable.

Importantly, too, we need to be certain that they are as safe as they can be, because their principal function is to convey the perishable human frames of us and our loved ones around the increasingly overcrowded tarmac of this little island.   And those of us who care about such things – and most of us do these days – need to feel that our next pride and joy is going to be as friendly as possible to our fragile ecosystem.

And that, in short, is why we need you, the motoring writers.  

Because you are there to help us make sure that our hearts, so far as possible, don’t rule our heads; that we don’t fall for an apparently desirable piece of eye-candy that turns out to be a lemon. 

You apply your years of experience and your technical expertise in supplying us with that rarest and most valuable of commodities: good, sound advice. 

And yes, you love cars too, as I learned at your annual dinner last year.  But it is not uncritical love, and therefore it is the best kind.

So please continue with your valuable work, all the more important in these difficult economic times.  Tell us, by all means, the bad as well as the good.

And if you must disillusion us, please do it gently. 

It has, as I predicted, been a long haul.  But now it’s nearing its end and we are starting to feel some satisfaction at having restored our 1930s house – reputed, possibly apocryphally, to have briefly been the home of no less an eminence than Sir Roger Moore around the time of his Ivanhoe incarnation – to something that we hope approaches the condition of its art deco heyday.

The pall of dust that permeated our new home for much of the first three months after we started the restoration has now abated.  It has not quite disappeared: it stubbornly, mysteriously continues to settle on polished surfaces out of apparently clear air within minutes of the application of the duster.  But Sara no longer wonders quite so frequently or quite so plaintively if she will ever see the end of the persistent, hated, all-pervading llwch.  In short, it’s getting better.

So much better, in fact, that we have begun to move our furniture back in. And once we’ve moved it in, we move it around.  And look at it.  And then move it again.   And so it will continue until we get it right or alternatively accept that we never will.

And we’ve had to buy stuff, too.  The kettle, which had functioned with quiet, unfailingly efficiency in our old home, found the move too traumatic and gave up the ghost within seconds of being placed on the kitchen counters of our new house.  It was all too much for it.

And so it was with the toaster.  And the coffee machine. The sea air apparently didn’t suit any of them.  So we’ve had to replace them all.

And today, we went out to buy a rug.  Not that we really had to.  The old fireside rug hadn’t surrendered, like the kettle.  Having no moving parts or electrical connections, it was made of sterner stuff.  But, fact is, it looked wrong.  It was primarily a cheerful, bright red in colour and just what was needed to brighten the long winter evenings in our beloved old former home, which, being a converted Victorian coach house, enjoyed somewhat subdued daylight.  But here it was trying too hard.  We needed something a bit less strident.

So we decided to replace it and made the journey to the enormous rug warehouse fifteen minutes down the A55, a place of pilgrimage on similar occasions throughout our marriage.

And believe me, it really is enormous.  Pile after pile, several feet high, of the exquisite woollen output of far-flung China, Iran, Pakistan and Turkey.  We were greeted by a particularly helpful and erudite lady, who lovingly directed our attention to the finer points of each rug, from the silken workings of an impossibly expensive offering from India to the yak hair woven by hand into a particularly striking piece from Tibet.  She knew a lot about rugs and was anxious to share her knowledge with us.

It was all terribly confusing, so we made our way to a heap of rugs of approximately the size and colour we were looking for.  The nice lady followed us.

“Wait a minute,” she called.  “I’ll just get one of the staff to help me fold the rugs back as you look at them.”

I begged her not to trouble herself; I would be quite happy to do it.

She looked at me kindly, but firmly replied: “I’m sorry but you can’t do that; health and safety, you see.”

Ah yes, of course. Health and safety.  My willingness to risk both and take my chances with the floor coverings was of no account.  The maxim volenti non fit injuria has clearly gone the way of our old kettle.

But ultimately we bought a rug and took it home and laid it in front of the fire, which we then lit, because autumn is here and there’s now a chill in the air.

And two more weeks should see it all finished.  Our friends will leave us for work elsewhere.  We will finish rearranging our furniture.  Peace, I hope, will reassert itself. 

We’re soon to have our own home to ourselves again.  And, pray God, there will be no more llwch.

Speaking at the Cheltenham Literature Festival, Tony Blair’s former director of communications pointed out that the current Labour stance of simply criticising Government plans for spending reductions, without putting forward any cogent alternative proposals, just won’t wash:

“He’s only just been elected, but I think when the cuts do start to kick in – providing we have got a proper economic narrative – [it] isn’t just about saying ‘we’re against the cuts’.

“It is actually about how you build growth and how you develop a strategy for the future.”

There is some cause to believe that Miliband may be minded to heed Campbell’s advice.  His newly-appointed shadow Chancellor, Alan Johnson, has signalled that he will take Alistair Darling’s proposals to halve the deficit within a Parliament – effectively a cut of £44 billion – as a “starting point”.  Less ambitious than coalition proposals, certainly, but considerably more realistic than anything proposed by Ed Balls, who Miliband might easily have appointed to the shadow portfolio.

Labour are, after all, Her Majesty’s Opposition.  A position of ostrich-like denial is both demeaning of their constitutional function and insulting of the electorate. 

Given, too, that he was Secretary of State for so long, he will be able to continue to offer the House a valuable insight into why it was that, on his watch, Wales became and remained the poorest part of the United Kingdom.

Welcome back, Peter.