Shops not benefiting from market’s presence

Arose by any other name... On the first Sunday of every month, Mrs B and I take a stroll down the High Street to the socalled “farmers’ market”. It is possible that one or two actual farmers have stalls there among the home-made jams and chutneys, olives and fudge but that is mere nitpicking. Since we, through the council, are subsidising it, the very least we can do is wander through and maybe buy a plant or two from one of the genuine sons of the soil.

However, no matter how much we may enjoy this monthly market and this month’s was blessed with a particularly pleasant atmosphere there are those who sincerely wish the council had sited their brain child in the obvious place, in the centre of town opposite the bandstand or, perhaps, even in Park Mall or North Street. Council thinking, flawed as it so often is, decided that the market would prove a boost to the Slough of Despond that is the Lower High Street. We often hear the word “footfall” these days. It is, like so many jargon words, pretty meaningless. It is used to reduce people to numbers, statistics that can be used to prove a spurious point, namely, that the more people who pass through an area, the more people will spend their money there.

It goes almost without saying that this monthly market boosts footfall in the Lower High Street. It needs to be said, however, that the effect on local traders there has been either deleterious or nil.

Local food outlets suffer badly, they tell me. I inquired in a sportswear shop who told me that, initially, trade had increased slightly, but now it is back to premarket level.

While we’re in the Lower High Street, I must mention that a number of people have complained to me that the fountain in which children like to play has become a Mecca for the town’s cider drinkers, druggies and other ne’er-do-wells.

I can only say it is not my place to judge people’s habits or where they choose to spend their leisure time.

I was pleased to see that the unsightly mud surrounding the rock commemorating Ashford’s twinning with Bad Munstereifel has now been covered with redwood chips.