Wednesday 17th October – Blackburn, Burnley, Boundary Mills and Skipton

I last visited Blackburn in 2008 when Jack Straw was in the news for talking about women in his constituency who choose to wear a veil (niqab?). That day he was in his constituency for the first time since the furore and there was a posse of journalists in hot pursuit. Such a crowd was attracting a further crowd. How could any of us resist being part of the news? The journalists wanted local voices but it was interesting to watch how some people lingered, keen to chat; whilst others scuttled off in the opposite direction. There are still some young women who choose to wear a veil but relatively few. Today Blackburn is relatively quiet. I find a car park and parking space easily, but getting out of the car park is more difficult. I follow signs for ‘exit’ but find myself in a metal cage with a locked door. This is slightly disconcerting, but it is only 10am so not scary. When I look properly I realise there are door release buttons, but I’m not used to this level of security in a car park. Once into the city I find the high street and the shopping centre. There are only a few shops in the high street, lots of empty spaces. The shopping centre is doing better but it too has empty spaces. But at least it has plenty of customers – lots of young people. Many are wearing ID on a lanyard and the lanyard says ‘student’; others are pushing babies and toddlers. There are young and there are old but relatively few middle aged people – at work I assume. There are more young people here than in other places I’ve visited. On my way back to the car park I realise why. Blackburn College is just off the high street. There is a shiny new campus with three different buildings. I assume they are all part of the same college, but it’s not clear. There is an interesting sign giving people reasons to study here – it talks of grants and results. There are large posters around the campus saying ‘Invest in You’. Maybe it’s the right thing to say, but have financial terms become the only descriptors of value? Education is an investment, but hopefully the investment goes beyond the purely financial? Or perhaps that’s a romantic view from the long-past days of student grants. The campus looks fantastic: modern buildings, lots of light and space, nicely landscaped. People wandering around looking keen, bright, multicultural. There are also a couple of campus workers having a fag and a chat in the bus shelter. This has been built since I was here last (cost £50 million according to the sign at the campus entrance) and it’s money well spent. I remain even more convinced that supporting students helps the economy. Not only the fees they bring in, but the shops and restaurants that can survive because of their (modest) spending. The jobs that are created – not only the lecturers and administrators, but also the cleaners, the security staff, the cafeteria staff – all add to the economic stability and the vibrancy of the city. Apparently education is as important to our exports as the City, but the difficulty of getting visas for foreign students will bring that to an end. And not just for London Metropolitan. In terms of shopping Blackburn has more of the value chains than the familiar brands but it’s not doing badly. As with most of the towns and cities I’ve visited I can see the money that the local authority has spent to make the place attractive and encourage people to come into the town. But it seems to be an uphill struggle. After Blackburn I head to Burnley. It’s a smaller place and at first glance seems to be struggling more. But as I wander around it seems to be doing OK. There are plenty of empty spaces and once again the high street shops are clustered in the shopping mall. The shopping mall is on Faceback and posters invite people to ‘like’ it. There is a competition asking for suggestions, the prize is an iPad. The iPad remains the prize of choice for many. Burnley has a market within the shopping centre. Today it’s bric a brac – and bric a brac it is – there are books and CDs, costume jewellery and toys. There are stalls with boxes of mobile phone cables and miscellaneous remote controls. But it’s busy and I leave with a bargain copy of a Lee Child’s novel. Its architecture is largely Georgian, there are factory chimneys towards the edge of town but the scale of the town seems more approachable than the larger cities. It’s easier to think that you might have shop or a market stall or a café here than in the cities where the buildings are so big you’d feel like a pea rattling in a bottle and the cost of stocking the space would be prohibitive. After Burnley I’m thinkng of going to Bradford and am undecided whether to take the high road (via Skipton) or the low road (via Hebden Bridge). What happens is that I take the wrong road from the roundabout and end up in Boundary Mill Store. It is huge, it has everything you might ever want to buy and at a discount. This is where clothes (and everything else) go when the sale is over. There is a vast car park and a central path flagged with Union Jacks. The bus comes here so it is accessible for those who don’t drive. This is where the middle class come to shop (and lunch). It’s busier than any of the high streets I’ve visited. The organised are preparing for Christmas. Some are bemused by the scale and choice and have to sit down and have a cup of tea. The dedicated bargain hunters are on a mission. If you, like me, missed something in the stores come here if there are any left, they will have one here. It’s all very bright and shiny. The ladies loos are spacious and have wooden doors. Actually it’s plastic wood but it has all the cues of luxury cars and so it all feels very glamorous (for a discount store). There is no greater demonstration that we live in a consumer society than here. When I re-discover the internet I shall find out where else they are – land is too expensive close to London for them to be anywhere near the centre. I decide to take the high road and go to Skipton. I’m not sure what to expect but it’s apparent within moments of arriving that this is a different world. I am now on the edge of the tourist economy. The car park has a dozen coaches – older Brits and young Europeans – an interesting combination of visitors (separate coaches, of course). Skipton has some smart stores but also lots of value stores. But it’s buzzing with people mid afternoon, not sure how bustling it is out of the tourist season. My plans for Bradford are abandoned; I’ve taken the wrong road. So now it’s north and east and into Yorkshire and the coast.