Nothing certain despite mantra over roadmap

Roadmap, roadmap, roadmap.

I’m sick and tired with the constant repetition of the word. Every politician, every news commentator, pretty well every business owner - they all trot the word out almost as though it were some kind of magic mantra - an incantation that will open the gates of heaven on earth.

Trouble is, a roadmap is a hard and fast set of directions that lead from point A to point B. Our chap - the one who launched the wretched, and misleading, term - began by saying it would be a hard and fast way out of the economic mess the pandemic has dumped on the nation.

Later, he modified this by suggesting (very sensibly) that his earlier assertion that the steps along the way would be irreversible might not, in fact, be the case. While I truly hope the plan will be to carry us from point

A to freedom, I do have a worry that, given earlier stops and starts, that this particular journey - hindered by possible changes in the bacterium and pressure from those who put their money before other people’s lives - might be a roughly-drawn sketch leading to the Slough of Despond.

While I truly hope the plan will be to carry us from point A to freedom, Idohavea worry...

I see it suggested that ‘café culture’ could give a boost to the lower High Street. Given that the market is unlikely to be revived by the current clutch of councillors, perhaps the idea might gain approval, given that they seem to think building ever more café-spaces is the way to build the town’s future.

Mind you, shortly after I came to Ashford in 1987, people were talking about exactly the same thing. On the other hand, if enough people arrive to fill the blocks of flats that have blighted the town, they might be glad to get out to enjoy some sense of space.

One problem for me is that, when I think of café ‘culture’ my mind drifts to the cafes of Paris in the 19th and early 20th centuries, patronised by artists and intellectuals.

Ashford High Street? Nah!