Leighton Buzzard Summer Festival

For once the Leighton Buzzard Summer Festival lived up to its name, or at least the summer part of it did. Temperatures hit 28C, or the high 80’sF, (depending which heat measure you use). The sun shone. Beers were drunk. Bands played.

Which was a shame, as the festival showcased some great local businesses and talent. The eclectic mix of stalls included jewellers, watch sellers, a local brewer, handmade nic naks, a cheese stand, book sellers, antiques, jams and condiments and a local author and photographer publishing is latest kids book.

Refreshments were plentiful, from locally the brewed beer mentioned above(adults only of course), to ice cold cans of pop. Food choices ranged from a sizzling hog roast, to burgers made with locally reared meat, and, for those with a sweet tooth, crepes for afterwards. However, the real winner of the day in terms of popularity was the ice cream van – no surprise there.

Stalls lined each side of the high street, traders scanning the road for potential shoppers. The shoppers came -- though not so much in their thousands as in the odd one here and there, and most of those arrived by accident rather than design. They just happened to pass through the high street on the way to somewhere else.

Leighton Buzzard, lovely as is it, is more used to people commuting from it, rather than to it. As pretty little Bedfordshire market towns go, it has a lot of charm. It also has a couple of claims to fame. Mary Norton, author of The Borrowers grew up there. Just outside of town is Bridego Bridge, the site of the Great Train Robbery. Interesting facts both, but not strong enough to pull people away from their bbq’s on the hottest day of the year.

Criticisms can be made, few in number but greatly important. It would have been nice to see a few more local food producers, (but that’s purely personal – I am a food addict.) Rumour had it there was more entertainment in a local park, but there were no signs or indications that this was the case. The biggest criticism though was the lack of advertising. Time and time again stallholders asked me the same question, “Did you know this event was on?”

I did know, but only because a friend had a stall (that would be the local author and photographer mentioned earlier – Dale Rockell – fantastic photography and a great kids book). I also knew because last year I manned a stall, note I did not repeat that experience this year. This year it was fun seeing it from the other side of the fence, so to speak. It also gave me the freedom to give into the call of my garden and the rather wonderful black-current larger ice lollies residing in my freezer.

It is a shame local events like this are not more strongly supported. It this case the public can hardly be blamed for not coming out in force, as very few appeared to know about it. Without shoppers to spend money, traders have no reason to set up stall. Without local traders, shoppers have no reason to attend. It is a vicious circle slowly spiralling inwards, being squeezed from all sides.

Leighton Buzzard has a lot to offer. It has a theatre which showcases local productions, a miniature steam railway, acres of open space, plus it sits on the Grand Union Canal. Twice weekly markets take place in the town square, from pavement cafes people watch people go by (actually coffee shops with seats outside, but I’m creating an image here). Life in town continues at a gentle pace, while industrial estates and new housing spring up on the outskirts, and just as gently squeeze the life from the town centre.

Leighton Buzzard and towns like it are in danger of disappearing from the landscape. More and more we live online and shop out of town. Yet how often do you hear people hark back to the old days of shopping locally? In reality though shopping locally is not possible if shops are only open 9am - 5pm while people work 8am - 6pm during the week, and do not want to give up precious weekend leisure time. This is a conundrum which occupies many an hour in the pub, yet is never solved. Give it a few years however and the solution will present itself through the death of the small town high street, and the relentless rise of the superstore.