Why do I volunteer for the Uckfield Neighbourhood Plan?

Last Sunday evening I was looking over the top of my laptop screen, half-watching a favourite TV programme. Half-watching, because I was busy scheduling tweets for two local voluntary groups. Why was I bothering? How did I get tangled up in things like the Uckfield Neighbourhood Plan?

Before going any further I had better explain what the neighbourhood plan is.  The web site says ...

Your help is needed to draw up a Neighbourhood Plan for Uckfield that establishes what the priorities are for green spaces, transport improvements and recreational and community facilities.

The Neighbourhood plan is not a Town, District or County Council initiative or project. It is a plan to be created and owned by residents. If you get involved, you have the opportunity to shape the future of the area you live in.

In my mind, this means creating a plan for future development that helps us avoid nasty surprises.

Holy Cross, Uckfield

My involvement started at the Clubs and societies event described in the Uckfield News.  I was curious about the information lying on a table and had a look. Among the papers, there was a questionnaire, which I was filling in when an acquaintance suggested that I might like to join the group creating the plan.

I stammered and made excuses. “I’m already too busy. I probably can’t get to those meetings anyway. I don’t know anything about planning.”

“That’s OK" he said "There are different themes that need to be looked into.”

Hmm. Environment? Any of you who have been anywhere near my writing will know that I enjoy nature, interesting buildings etc.

“Maybe Environment. I’m up for a little light bunny hugging!”

And so it began.  I went to a meeting where a small group plotted out areas important for nature on a draft map.  I was able to bring useful knowledge to this meeting thanks to the power of social media. At this point I want to thank “HT” and “S” for sharing their knowledge with me. Also, thank you to everyone who commented on the map, after I posted it on Facebook and Twitter. 

Of course this is only a tiny part of the picture. There is also housing, transport and much else to be considered. We need more people to help with the plan so we can do our town justice.  I’ve decided to do some work with social media.  I’ve been posting information and questions to Twitter and Facebook for a couple of weeks now.

I’m familiar with using Twitter but being an administrator on a Facebook page is new to me. There is a different rhythm to it, which I am learning as I go.  I’ve been amazed at just how generous people are with their knowledge of the town.  Some individuals are sniffy about social media but, for me, Facebook and Twitter are just tools that put you in contact with people. These people bring with them fantastic experience and knowledge that can help in all sorts of ways. 

So to come back to my original question - Why do I volunteer for the Uckfield Neighbourhood Plan?

My answers are:

• If we set up a plan based on local knowledge, maybe we can help the town to avoid nasty surprises.
• By working with the group and the people who contribute knowledge through social media etc. I can learn more about the town that I live in.
• I can put my analytical/research skills and love of nature to practical use.
• I can network with some amazing people.
• Through working in the group, I can pick up some new skills and polish some existing ones.

So it’s not all noble. I fully expect to get something back. But that’s volunteering – it’s a two-way street.  There are all sorts of things that need to be done – so please look out for ways to get involved.

Uckfield - A Practical Town

Once again they are dusting off masterplans and talking about “improving” the town. Uckfield isn’t broken but we could very easily break it. There is talk of “revitalising” a town because it is “tired” in places. I’m not saying we shouldn’t change anything but I am saying we shouldn’t rush to use a sledgehammer to crack the “tiredness” nut.  I am using this piece to set out what I think about the essential character of the town, the things I value and what I think needs fixing.

This is just off the top of my head and my own opinion.  I’m sure others with have more and better thoughts.

Essential character

Historically Uckfield is a market town where people from miles around came to sell and buy produce and services. The old postcard below shows congestion in the market area (behind the fence), which is now occupied by Waitrose. The horses and carts have been replaced by cars and the market stalls by supermarkets. There is still a railway that comes into town, even if it is a shadow of its former self. Uckfield is now also a commuter town. Many commuters travel to London, Brighton and Gatwick by train, bus and car.

Horses and carts lined up at the market in Uckfield

Uckfield still attracts people in from the villages who use the shops and attend events such as the carnival. Like most British towns it’s a hodge-podge of different types of building, all squeezed in here and there as space allowed. In my opinion the jewel in the crown is the Picture House cinema, a historic building, thriving business and cultural centre all rolled into one. 

So Uckfield is a bit messy but practical and attractive like a busy working mum who makes time to play with her kids then puts a bit of lippy on and has an evening out. The people are diverse in the truest meaning of the word – different opinions, different skills and different ways of living.  In short, a classic British compromise with a bit of muddle and a bit of make do and mend.

I’ve drifted in and out from the mid-80s, having first lived in the London suburbs, gone to Uni in Sheffield and then dipping in and out depending on when contracts took me away.  Nowadays the wonders of virtual working enable me to work at home and the relatively local offices in London, Leatherhead and Reading. Electronic communications also help me keep in contact with local people and join in volunteering activities etc.

Space and shops

Uckfield's Big Day Out on Luxford Field

The first thing I notice about Uckfield is the sense of space. We are not crammed into a concrete jungle. In the centre we have Luxford field, a large, simple space that can be used for gatherings and games of all sorts.  From nearly everywhere in the town you can pause, look round and see a view. It is also heaving with Natural Jewels. The people of the town  have a fantastic relationship with nature. Kind people put out food for birds or nurse hedgehogs and keen naturalists put their knowledge into action to care for our natural assets.



A Charity shop's window reflecting commercial outlets on the other side of the road.

There is a terrifically diverse range of shops and other businesses.  I’m going to single out Uckfield Electrics as a traditional style electrical shop, who hire local guys to deliver on Manor Park without the sort of fuss and bother we encounter with deliveries from outside.  Then shops like Fross and PC Home and Office (Print Clearly) who have innovative “clicks and bricks” business models that combine a traditional high-street presence with a thriving web-based business.  A whole range of independents respond quickly to local conditions whether it is dressing their windows blue and yellow for the festival to changing their opening hours to fit round the disruption caused by the roadworks.

A practical, talented town

This is a town that rolls its sleeves up a deals with things. Stuff happens, we react. Often we react loudly and let officialdom know we are not happy. We are Sussex folk that "wunt be druv”. Having let off steam we start working together to fix the problem.  They move the doctors’ surgery to the bypass, far away from a bus – a local residents’ association sets up a car service. Flooded? Just watch River Uck And Surrounding Areas Flood Group leap to the rescue with their 4x4s and their desire to help their fellow citizens.

Uckfield is bursting with talent. Artists, Writers, Musicians and so much more. As a town we get to enjoy seeing and hearing them at the Uckfield Festival, Art Trail and so many other occasions.

The town has an exceptional electronic life.  Facebook is full of lively groups and I defy anyone to find a better hyperlocal news source than the Uckfield News. There seem to be increasing numbers of people working in virtual teams – i.e. they work at their home in Uckfield and communicate with their team via the internet. My belief is that these 21st Century methods are giving us a way to return to a version of the type of community we had when people shared information round the parish pump and would work in their cottages.

What needs fixing – my opinion

1. The assumption that every problem can be solved by building.
2. Failure to synchronise development proposals with each other and inputs from neighbourhood plans.
3. Transport. People travel to and from and within this town:
• Public transport – has been suffering death a thousand cuts
• Parking and congestion – soon, the population will grow by about 20%, this is going to get worse and is not easy to fix.
4. Flooding.
5. Information flow – Official communications need to match and join with the brilliant local sources mentioned above. We all need to help individuals who are not being reached to keep up. 
6. Officialdom needs to be able to access the massive amount of talent and expertise we have in this town. They need to listen and act on this expertise.
7. Use of IT – Can we support virtual working, “Clicks and Bricks” business models, better access for everyone with better broadband, education, support etc?
8. Holes in the shopping experience:
• For me, it’s office smart size 18 clothing. If am obliged to get in my car and go elsewhere for that, I’ll usually load up with other things too.
• For a working parent, there is difficulty shopping in the high street due to opening hours. Maybe one evening a week late shopping would help?

The Tour of England – Uckfield awaits

By Saturday the 13th of September, 2014, Uckfield had been eagerly awaiting the Tour of Britain, for some months.  The bunting was up and shops had dressed windows and decorated railings in glorious reds, whites and blues. These visiting colours echoed the town’s mellow red brick, creamy paint and September’s cobalt sky.

Bicycle decorating the railings, just outside Pipedreams.

I hadn’t taken much notice of it and just happened to book my hair appointment for twelve thirty, just before the race was due to go through the town. I was waiting for my colour to be mixed when spectators started to arrive. I sidled out – just to have a quick look at the gathering crowd – and the hairdressers and assistants joined me.

To start with, there was just a straggle of people. The children were more interested in chasing each other than any sporting event. The crowd gave a pair of ordinary cyclists a slightly ironic cheer. I recognised a marshal, Emma, who was keeping a watchful eye on the crowds from the island in the middle of Church Street.

As I waited, I idly examined the cluster of buildings around the crossroads. The Cinque Ports is directly opposite the hairdressers. The plastic bunting flapping round the edge of the roof seemed to emphasise its age. Across narrow Hempstead Road, Barclays and the pizza shop are housed in a pile of fidgety Victorian details. Looking up the High Street, just beyond the people jostling for a view, I can see a spectator who has taken advantage of a high window above the estate agent’s elegant façade.

Spare bicycles, glimpsed between the crowds.

Official cars and motorcycles started to whip through.  Police went by in flashes of acid yellow followed by hot orange motorcycles. As the crowd and excitement built, every vehicle was applauded. Cars with spare bicycles came and went.  Smart phones held at arm’s length snapped everything to do with the race.  I scampered up the flower shop’s steps, not caring that I looked ridiculous in my hairdressers robe. Others stood on ladders and chairs from their shops and fathers put excited children on their shoulders.

As the big moment approached, the High Street was closed and the crowd, who had waited so patiently by the bank, surged forward. The yellows and oranges flashed by quicker and quicker, sounding horns and sirens as they went. By now the anticipation was almost unbearable. Heads snapped to attention and cameras were raised for every movement. The sound of a helicopter overhead could only mean one thing. The rotors seemed to say, “They’re coming, they’re coming.” With glimpses of helmets and Lycra seen between bobbing heads, Wiggo and the others were here - and then, they were gone.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *



Photos and videos of the race

• Uckfield FM: Tour of Britain Highlights - with pictures by local photographers, a map showing route and an interesting graph of the profile
• Uckfield News: Tour of Britain races through Uckfield - which captures the delight of townspeople
• Gavin Rainbow's video (main pack goes through at just after 2 mins)
• OneDad3Girls photo - one picture and it's a good one
• If you are a member of the Memories of Uckfield Facebook group, you should be able to see, and add to, the Stage 7 of Tour of Britain through Uckfield and surrounding areas album.

The Animals of Manor Park go Dancing

Manor Park is big estate in a small country town. Wild animals slip quietly through gardens avoiding humans, cats, dogs and each other. Mostly. Except for the night of the Margaret ball.

Below ground, a mother was lecturing her children. "This is our big chance to go up in the world and we must all be on our best behaviour."

Her husband, Ratty, reassured them "We're on the up. 'umans love us so much they leave takeaways specially for us. And look all around yer. They've left all these fantastic cracks in this sewer ..."

"Tunnel." declared mother firmly and looked sternly at the kits. "What ever you do, don't say sewer in front of the over ground folk." The youngsters squealed with excitement.

Their mother hushed them. "Remember the rules. No being seen or heard dancing by Humans." She emphasised the H.

Ratty added "And no eating fellow dancers."

Scabious, the youngest kit, shuddered as she imagined a fox pouncing.

A few minutes scamper along the darkest gutters and they arrived at the fairy garden. This garden guards the secret entrance to the dancing ground. It had been created by a human family who, sweetly, thought it was their own idea.

A rabbit peeped out from behind a wall. "Good to see you again Ratty. Lovely family. This way. Quickly! Now!"

"Was the dance named after the late Margaret Thatcher?" asked Ratty, trying to impress with news he had seen in a discarded paper.

"Who was she?" asked Bouncer, a large and slightly dim looking rabbit.

"She was King of the humans." replied old Brock. The badger went on, "No, the dance was named after the Princess who provided the prize. Well, when I say provided, my great-great grand father said she threw it away. He was the first badger to walk on his hind legs, you know." He would go on about it all night given half a chance.

A squirrel chattered "Who is the Master of Ceremonies this year? Surely it won't be Tawny again? Not after that unfortunate incident with the mouse?"

When he paused for breath, the rabbit replied, "A peacock is coming from the Other Side of the Road."

There were sharp intakes of breath all round. "Ugh!" grunted a young hedgehog. "He must be really brave."

The peacock strutted in with his tiny head held high.  He was nervous but not because of the road. He knew that he was going to have to give scores and he wasn't very good at numbers.

Old Brock gave the trophy to the peacock. "You'll be giving that back by the end of the evening."

"No chance, matey." sneered a fox. "I was born behind a nightclub in Brighton and have taught my new pals some sharp moves."

They glared at each other. The rivalry between the badgers and the foxes had started with the first dance and had continued as houses engulfed their dancing ground.

The peacock fluttered onto a wall and announced the foxtrot.  The band of grasshoppers, led by a blackbird, struck up the tune and the foxes whirled around the narrow road between the garage doors.

A squirrel nudged her sister as two handsome fallow bucks arrived, then turned to Scabious and remarked "Your costumes are brilliant!"

The crisp packet crackled as the young rat adjusted the rubber band that kept it in place and said. "Thank you. We copied them from Strictly Come Dancing."

The hedgehog looked sad and said that one of her children had choked on a rubber band like that. That stopped the conversation for a moment. The rabbit sighed "I wish humans wouldn't drop litter".

"I dunno." said Scabious, scratching. Her mother nudged her and glared at the errant paw. The youngster continued brightly. "We rats love litter, it's the next best thing to sewers."

Her mother's smile froze and she hastily changed the subject. "The foxes have finished. They're very good." A badger harumpfed and the bats took to the air.Their aerial display drew plenty of oooos and ahhhs from the younger animals.

A fox was rather critical "They seem rather ragged this year."

The badger's waltz was a stately delight. Such powerful animals but so much in love, even after all these years.

The rats went all out in a Samba. The mice clapped their encouragement knowing that no small animals ever won. The only question was - Would the badgers or the foxes take the trophy home this year?

The handsome deer found the narrow road rather cramped. The squirrels were sweet if a little out of time. The rabbits danced last but the effect was spoilt by the couples' over-amorous behaviour.

The peacock squawked to get everyone's attention and announced the top three. "In third place with four points, the rats. In second, with five points the badgers, and in first." He hesitated, frantically trying to remember, "First with five points plus another one, the Foxes."

The head fox stood up and bowed.

"Not so fast" said the peacock. Remember that points are deducted for those who disobey the rules.  You and young Reynard were seen practising your steps by a human. For this I deduct two points, making", He looked down at his toes, "four."

The badgers looked unbearably smug.

"And," continued the peacock, glaring at Old Brock, "You. YOU, who should know better, allowed yourself to be seen, walking on your HIND LEGS, by a human." Brock hung his head. "For this I deduct one point." A quick glance at the toes, "Making four."

The badgers and the foxes glanced at each other. Would there be a dance off? With light rimming the Eastern skyline, time was running short.

"However" said the peacock, "I thoroughly commend our newest team, the Rats, for their costumes. For this I give them a bonus of two points making - six!"

Excited squeals greeted the news. Ratty pushed Scabious forward. The Peacock placed the engagement ring on her head, like a tiny crown, and said "Well done all of you. You've done your species proud."

Inspirations:

• A story told by one of the writers group about a badger walking on its hind legs
• Wild animals that I have seen in our garden and our estate

Two fallow deer that visit our Manor Park garden.

 

• Humans' habit of discarding food, then moaning about vermin
• Rumours that there is a feral flock of peacocks somewhere in Uckfield
• A fairy garden built by a local family - featured in the One Dad 3 girls blog
• A story that Princess Margaret broke off her engagement round our way somewhere.

Normal Service is Resumed

It’s a strange day on the Uckfield line:
They’re out on strike at the excuses mine;
No engine’s given up the ghost
And every driver's at his post.

No works have overrun,
No conductor choked on her bun;
No wrong kind of snow
Or floods to make the trains go slow.

No cow beside the track,
No truck to give the bridge a whack;
No line side fire,
And no-one’s nicked the electric wire.

But when no journey is in doubt:
What's left for us to talk about?
It's lonely on the Uckfield line,
Knowing the trains will run on time.

No signal box is stuck by lightning:
This punctuality’s getting frightening;
Civilisation's sure to crumble,
If we don’t get a good old grumble.

So there's a feeling of relief,
When trains are stopped by a falling leaf;
"Apologies for delays" the speakers boomed;
Normal service is resumed.