My last post concluded with the surprise weekend trip I organised to the Isle of Wight for Randi’s birthday, but the honest truth is that this was always a bit of a knock-off of Randi’s idea, who had already booked a surprise weekend trip to [mystery location] for my birthday. So it was that last Friday evening – after a flying pre-birthday visit from mum the night before – we arrived at Paddington for our train out of London. (Leaving from Paddington at least confirmed to me that we hadn’t both gone and booked the same destination, as hilarious as that would have been.)
For a little while it looked like trains-leaving-Paddington wasn’t actually a thing anymore (kudos to the woman sharing updates from Real Time Trains with the rest of us) but after the issues cleared we boarded our (surprisingly quiet!) carriage, cracked open the M&S cocktails, and relaxed into a weekend adventure to Moreton-in-Marsh in the Cotswolds!
I don’t think I’ve been to the Cotswolds before (not in blogging memory, at least) but I had an image of cutesey, chocolate box cottages, well-heeled high streets and satisfying country walks through pretty villages. And… yes, these preconceptions were basically all accurate, end of blog. We did think Moreton-in-Marsh suffered a little bit by allowing a car park to form in the middle of its high road, but it’s nevertheless very charming, and wherever they’re sourcing the cheddar for their cheese and ham croissants ought to be given listed status.
On Saturday we went on a big circular walk via the village of Longborough – stopping at their lovely community cafe for lunch – getting very lucky with some temperate weather rather than scorching sun. Dinner had already been booked at The Black Bear Inn. I was really looking forward to this for two reasons: (a) the food looked great, and (b) Randi and I had cracked up laughing the night before reading the owner’s responses to the odd negative review on Google Maps. (If it helps, the slogan on their blackboard was “All of our customers make us happy. Some by staying, others by leaving.”)
Dave did not seem like a man we wanted to cross, and fortunately we didn’t have to. But we did befriend the woman sitting on the table next to us, who seemed very cool, and was treating her six year old to a birthday expedition themed around some of his favourite things: crocodiles, alligators and snakes.
Bonus Feature: Old Man Shakes Fist at Nation
For obscure reasons, the next day I found myself on the Longborough Parish Council website. Their last meeting was in May, and if you skip past the elections for chair and vice-chair (approved unanimously), the approval of prior minutes (approved unanimously) and the annual accounts (approved unanimously) you’ll see tucked away under ‘Planning/Licensing’ that Workshop Luckley Farm’s planning application to convert its furniture workshop into a wedding venue has been dismissed on appeal.
Officially, this is something to do with bats in the roof. But nobody is planning to touch the bats in the roof. Indeed, the bats seem to have coped perfectly fine with a full-time furniture restoration business, so it’s a little surprising to learn that shutting that down and switching to two hour-long wedding ceremonies per week would be so much worse. Out of interest, what is the harm? Oh, the appeal doesn’t say. It doesn’t even gesture at a plausible explanation. It just states that “it cannot be concluded what [sic] the proposal would not have a significant effect on bats” and the “precautionary principle” should therefore apply.
Reader, this is not about bats. It’s about parking. You see, if you read on, you’ll learn there’s “high potential” that visitors would “use inappropriate locations” to park, “which could hinder the free flow of traffic”. And I like to imagine the low, serious tones of a high court judge when I reach the conclusion that “although the appellant considers most guests would share lifts […] this cannot be guaranteed”.
Let’s step back for a moment. What is planning actually for? On this, Longborough Parish Council is admirably open: it is there to “support the view of its parishioners”. And I have no reason to doubt what they say their parishioners want: “most people in the village like Longborough as it is”. Planning, therefore, is about saying no. We’re not planning to get married in the Luckley Farm Barn, so who cares about anyone else? Who cares about the owner of the business? Who cares about the employment of young hospitality staff? Who cares about taxi drivers? Who cares about flatlining economic growth? Who cares about how we might fund the increasing demands of healthcare, social care, defence, pensions or anything else you care to name? I’ve got a house in the Cotswolds. I’m alright, Jack.
The absurdity is that the area is still permanently represented by the Conservative Party, which always claims to be the party of free enterprise and a lighter state. A patriotic party, supporting small business and risk-taking. Conservatives are not “supposed to” believe that entrepreneurship is subject to a collective village vote. They are “supposed” to allow businesses to succeed or fail on their own merits. Of course, it’s patently obvious that this is not at all what their supports actually believe in practice. Which is a shame, because on this, they are right! I’m not arguing for a libertarian free-for-all: this isn’t a planning application for a brothel, a coal mine or a skyscraper. It’s a wedding barn, for goodness sake.
I suppose nobody will now get married under the sleeping bats of the Luckley Farm barn. If they had, it is of course totally plausible that some of their guests might have parked in the wrong place. Perhaps – just perhaps – there could have been a sign? Or a rope. Or a shuttle bus. Or a trust Parish Council volunteer issuing fines for infractions to the farm, which I suspect would have cleared up the problem pretty sharpish. All human activity brings problems, but if you see your job as trying to enable the best possible outcomes, a Parish Council operating on good faith could surely channel their time and energies into fixing real problems. Instead, we hand a small group of homeowners a veto to block anything they don’t like on spurious, pseudo-environmental grounds, and then we wonder why we can’t build a railway to Birmingham anymore. Saying “no” is not “planning”, and we need a total reset of how this works.
Setting my feelings about Longborough Parish Council aside, this was a truly wonderful birthday weekend and we returned to London on Sunday in high spirits! The week ahead was forecast to be grossly hot, as indeed it was, but fortunately I was already booked in for three days of work-related training in a gloriously air-conditioned room. (Don’t worry, the baby room at nursery is also generously cooled.) The training was a great opportunity to see colleagues in a non-Zoom setting – particularly Kira and Paulo! – and in particular I very much enjoyed drinks with Ben, Tom and Tomas on Thursday night.
For the weekend, Randi had the inspired idea of an emergency paddling pool purchase, so yesterday we spent a fair chunk of time outside in the garden. Baby-wise, we’ve now gotten some rolling, combined with a newfound ability to nap in his cot during the daytime \ a newfound ability to stick his limbs out of the cot when he doesn’t want to nap in his cot during the daytime. Oh, and lots of strawberry eating!
