Enjoying the cultural side of the county...

I like to think of myself as a vaguely cultured soul. My fondness for sixteenth and seventeenth century music - I've recently discovered the works of Byrd, Dowland and Tallis, for example - brings me gentle pleasure. But I'm not entirely an active seeker of culture in the widest sense. As a Londoner, potentially exposed to some of the best art, music and theatre, I didn't really take advantage of it - there was always a sense that it was always there and that actually turning up wasn't urgent. And then, living in a small village, it became rather more difficult to actually attend any.

But, living in Ipswich, there perhaps isn't that excuse. A county town tends to be a focal point for the cultural life of the county, not exclusively, but nonetheless a focal point. We have some decent regional theatre, Dance East offers mostly modern dance, plus exhibitions at The Hold, Suffolk's archive, sport at Ipswich Town (least said the better just at the moment, perhaps) and some glorious ecclesiastical architecture. We also have some remarkable stately homes in the surrounding countryside.

And so, it was nice to actually partake of some of this over the weekend. On a (Ros-inspired) impulse, we went to see a matinee performance of "Noises Off" at the New Wolsey Theatre, a joint production of the New Wolsey with the Queen's Theatre, Hornchurch, The Theatre by the Lake and Les Théâtres de la Ville de Luxembourg.

I'm not always convinced by farce as an artform, but whilst the play starts somewhat slowly, the pace accelerates as chaos reigns and everything that can go wrong does. By the end, you began to wonder how the cast kept up with it all but a good time was had by all and we left having felt that it was an afternoon well spent.

It's playing the Queen's Theatre, Hornchurch from Wednesday until 7 June so, if you're anywhere near that part of furthest East London, it might be worth a look.

Today was a countryside day, a walk around the grounds of Ickworth House, the ancestral home of the Herveys, a mostly bonkers family who, despite everything, first built and then developed an amazing house just outside Bury St Edmunds. The National Trust's potted family history gives you a taste. There is a valley walk which takes you along the course of the River Lark through fields full of sheep with their growing lambs, which takes about an hour at our pace.

So, a nice weekend, all in all. I guess that I really ought to do more of this kind of thing...

#interrail2025: Day 8 - the search for schnitzel continues…

It isn’t very far from Basle to Mainz - there’s a direct train that will get you there in just over three hours. But that’s hardly entering into the spirit of the thing, is it? And I still hadn’t had my schnitzel and so, obviously, it was necessary to go to Austria to get some. And beer, of course…

I had a reservation at a restaurant I’d eaten in three years ago, and a route planned, and so there I was, at the station to catch the 9.33 train to Sargans, on the edge of Switzerland, where I had a slight detour planned. It’s a lovely run across Switzerland, skirting lakes, gazing at snow-capped peaks.

One of the great things about Switzerland is the way that public transport connects. You get off of a train, the next train (or bus) isn’t far away. And, in Sargans, my rather unusual connection was waiting for me.

There aren’t many places where you get a regular bus from one country to another, passing through a third on the way. But the number 11 bus from Sargans does just that, leaving Switzerland to travel the length of Liechtenstein before delivering you to Feldkirch in Austria. And all for the princely sum of €5, which can be bought on an app.

I wasn’t actually intending to stop en route - schnitzel is too important for that - but it’s a nice ride, and the schedule got me to Feldkirch just in time for my table reservation.

The sun was shining in Feldkirch, and my schnitzel (and beer) was excellent.

I did still have the minor task of getting to Mainz though, and so I had a seat reservation on the Railjet Express to Darmstadt, a train which mysteriously arrives at Feldkirch as RJX960, and leaves Bregenz as RJX890. It’s one of those trains that isn’t likely to be ridden from end to end, as it starts at Vienna Airport and travels all the way to Frankfurt, the indirect way. But it did what I needed it to.

That did leave me with about an hour and a half to kill, and so I went for a walk. And, actually, the town centre is rather charming. I had a very enjoyable stroll, extended by news that my train was running about thirty minutes late - the ÖeBB app is really good at keeping you informed.

As it turned out, by the time we reached Darmstadt, we were nearly an hour late, but you can be so much more relaxed about that in a comfortable first class seat, knowing that you’ve got a connection that you’ll make easily enough, plus a hotel close to the station.

And the last leg was waiting for me…

Creeting St Peter - "Eight time winner and still undefeated..."

It is, occasionally, easy to forget that I first became Chair of Creeting St Peter Parish Council in 2018 and, apart from a brief intermission in 2022, I've been in the role ever since. My colleagues, a mostly revolving cast of lovely people, keep telling me how good I am at it (which is nice), although I deeply suspect that this is by way of ensuring that they don't have to do it themselves.

And so, last night's Annual Parish and Annual Parish Council Meetings were, whilst theoretically an opportunity for someone to take over, I sensed that, despite my plea that someone else, someone who actually lives in the Parish perhaps, might be better doing it, I was likely to be re-elected as Chair. And so it came to pass.

I'll be honest. Whilst I'm incredibly proud to be Chair of the Council, and whilst it has given me much pleasure and satisfaction in making a contribution to the life of the community, it does feel slightly like an academic exercise in governance. I miss the day to day connection, the walks around the village and the outlying areas, the conversations with neighbours about things that interest or concern them. It is never likely to be the same without that. But I continue nonetheless.

We did have a crowd in though, which is usually a bad sign. There's an honourable argument that, if nobody cares enough to attend, you're probably trusted to get on with things. Large attendances are usually linked to a controversial planning application, which tends to lead to passionate debate and an occasion struggle to maintain order.

And there were two planning applications on the agenda, one from the local concrete products factory, the other from a local resident who is establishing an events venue in the grounds of his home.

The former was fairly easy to deal with, especially as the applicants have a history of challenging the planning regime. They want to put up a new gantry crane as a prelude to applying for a new building extending the production facility closer to the properties at Creeting Hall.

The expectation that production will increase, and thus lorry traffic on the already highly unsuitable road that links the site with the A14 in either direction, and the suggestion that approving this will make the later application a fait accompli, made it easy for us to detail our concerns for submission to the District Council.

The second set of planning applications, seeks a change of usage of an out building, and additional parking for sixty cars, to make Flint Hall a viable venue for weddings, corporate events and private parties.

It's a fairly isolated property, so the impacts are limited to a small number of properties none of which are immediate neighbours. Our concerns about traffic and access to the site had already been addressed by a previously granted planning application, and there were very few concerns, as long as the right of way that runs through the site is maintained. The applicant was present, which helped in terms of understanding, and Council agreed to positively support the application.

This would normally be the moment when the audience leaves, especially given that the rest of the meeting was reports from the County and District Councillors, and an awful lot of process. But they all (but one) stayed, and the meeting proceeded in a rather relaxed manner for the next hour or so until the end was reached.

I tend to allow public participation throughout the agenda, because whilst Council makes the decisions, I believe that we benefit from the collective wisdom of the community. And, when everyone is behaving, it does help towards gaining wider buy-in than we might otherwise get.

And so, another year begins on Creeting St Peter Parish Council...

#interrail2025: Day 7 - one last bask in the Italian sunshine…

I really ought to finish my blog about my Interrail trip, so here goes...

I’d slept well, and with a rather pleasant breakfast consumed, it was time for another walk along Rimini’s promenade.

Rimini is, effectively, cut in two by the railway, which parallels the coast, and so there is a clear delineation between the resort and the rest of the city. That means that all of the historic stuff, and most of the shopping streets, are kept apart from the resort. And, in early April, the resort is fairly quiet as a result.

It was nice to have the sun in my face, especially given that whatever lurgy I was suffering from was now causing a nasty chesty cough. By now, I’d been less than 100% for a fortnight, and was feeling more like a convalescent than a traveller.

But it was, inevitably time to go. There are four primary routes across the Alps into and out of Italy - Monday’s route via Villach and Treviso, Innsbruck to Verona via Bolzano, Milan to Zurich via Como and Lugano, and Milan to Berne via Domodossola. And, having done all but the last of them, it was time to head for Milan and the connection to EC64, destination Basel.

Another Frecciarossa from Rimini, with more free Prosecco, got me to Milan with time for a bit of an explore. And Milano Centrale is quite something to behold. It is a vast building, designed to impress upon visitors that you are in a serious country with ambition. I could spend a lot of time there.

There are also trams, and someone has clearly decided that antique trams are a desirable thing. I wholeheartedly agree with them…

EC64 takes just over four hours to convey passengers to Basle, gliding along the eastern shore of Lake Maggiore, through the Simplon Tunnel before weaving its way across Switzerland using the valleys and the odd tunnel. It’s a beautiful run, with views of lakeside villas, snow-capped peaks and the odd dairy cow once you’ve left Italy.

By the time I reached Basle, however, I was bone tired. It was time to catch a tram and get to the hotel…

Having settled in, I steeled myself to head to the bar and order a beer and a club sandwich. Remind me not to do that again, no matter how good they were…

#interrail2025: Day 6 - turning for home… but how?

After a good night’s sleep, and with my ability to speak somewhat restored, it was time to catch the Frecciarossa to my next destination, somewhere I had fleetingly visited twice a couple of years ago, Rimini. Previously, it had been the jumping off point for my journey to San Marino, but this time, I had a hotel room booked.

It’s six hours from Lecce, but the surroundings (and a couple of glasses of free Prosecco) were perfectly charming. This is the peak of Italian rail travel, with leather seats and bags of space. But, whilst I’m sure that there are people who prefer to spend more than eight hours to get to Milan, the mostly empty seats suggested that most Italian business travellers prefer to fly.

I did use the time wisely though, deciding what the next leg of the journey would be. Well, even I have to make a decision eventually…

I reached Rimini with plenty of the afternoon left, which allowed me to take a walk along the rather stylish promenade in the spring sunshine, as the resort prepared for the tourist season to come. One of the things that is slightly unusual about Rimini is the sheer depth of the beach. You can see the sea from the promenade, but it’s a fair stretch.

Indeed, it’s so far that the beach is divided into sections, or stabilimenti, privately owned, whose owners maintain that section of the beach and provide a variety of facilities. They ensure that the sand is kept clean and free of litter and, in return, you pay a fee to them. And, of course, they compete for your custom.

It was time for dinner though and, as it turns out, Rimini is like a lot of seaside resorts, in that the restaurants are a bit variable and not necessarily wholly inviting. But I did find somewhere eventually, and had some very nice pasta with sausage. There may have been wine involved.

I needed some sleep though, as I was crossing the Alps again the next day…

#interrail2025: Day 5 - to the beautiful south…

I made my connection in Rome easily enough, and had a little time to explore Roma Termini station - not exactly pretty on the outside but an excellent shopping mall inside.

But my next destination was Italy’s heel. Trenitalia’s crack trains only run as far as Lecce, which is also the limit for Interrailers (the local rail services are run by a regional affiliate which doesn’t accept Interrail passes). I arrived to find warm(ish) sunshine and a city centre which is full of small, narrow streets providing welcome shade for most of the day. And, once I’d found my hotel, it was time to explore.

I admit, I was somewhat distracted by gelato, and then, having had an explore, a glass of the local Primitivo. Having done so, it seemed churlish not to stay for dinner - lightly fried cod, followed by seared octopus with a celeriac cream. There may have been more wine, but I probably deserved it, given that I was still barely capable of speech…

Lecce is an interesting place, famous for its limestone which gives everything a slightly golden hue. And, given that the city is two thousand years old, it is blessed with the marvellous church architecture that Italy is so good at. I did pop in to light a candle for my grandmother (you never really escape Catholicism or, at least, the underlying sense of vague existential guilt).

It was nice to be in the sunshine for a bit, but I’d come about as far as I could go, to quote “Oklahoma”. It was time to turn for home. I didn’t actually have a plan beyond the next train ride, but something would turn up, right?…

#interrail2025: Day 4 (and a bit) - the time-saving short cut…

So, Trieste Centrale on a sunny evening in April, the world your oyster. But not the obvious option for a footloose bureaucrat. No, I had some serious miles to cover, and the overnight sleeper to Rome to catch.

Now, compared to the Nightjet, Austrian Railway’s rather elegant sleeper service to Rome from Vienna, Trenitalia’s Intercity Notte service is a mite basic. None of this “en suite bathroom and shower” nonsense but, given the price difference, I was willing to make the sacrifice.

I found my berth easily enough, despite Trenitalia’s attempts to bewilder (and why not number the carriages 1, 2, 3, 5, 4 and 6?), and found that my bed was already made up.

We were slightly late off, but with a scheduled eleven hours and forty-eight minutes to Roma Termini and a built in two hour rest at Bologna Centrale, I was confident that my ninety minutes connection would hold.

Back through Udine, and onwards across Friuli, it suddenly dawned on me that this train served Venice as well, which meant a crossing of the lagoon to Venezia Santa Lucia. I’ve never been to Venice - it feels like one of those tourist traps where you end up begrudging every last penny you spend - but there’s no doubt that it’s one of those places where you ought to go.

Having crossed and re-crossed the lagoon, it was time for some sleep…

I was awoken abruptly just before six, although the presentation of a cappuccino and a miscellany of breakfast items did make up for it a bit. We were, on the other hand, running half an hour late, for reasons that never did become clear.

But, having had breakfast and freshened up, I alighted for on the train on a sunny morning, with another train to catch, heading south…

#interrail2025: Day 4 - backwards and forwards in Friuli-Venezia…

I didn’t really have any plans for most of Tuesday and, if you don’t have plans, Udine is a splendid place not to have them. You can just wander around, soaking in the architecture, eating and drinking as you do. And so, that’s what I did, with the one proviso that I had a meeting of the National Assembly of the National Association of Local Councils to fit in.

Udine in the sunshine is glorious, so a walk was called for, and up to the castle I went. Built on a thirty-metre high mound, it’s pretty but not daunting, although the mound itself, apparently constructed during the Bronze Age between 1400 and 1300 BC, is rather more impressive.

Back to the hotel, where I’d arranged to use the hotel balcony for my meeting, and whilst I was still only partly capable of speech, I managed to get through without too much difficulty.

By now, I was getting hungry and, as dinner was going to be a bit tricky, I set off in search of a hearty lunch. What I found was pizza and a half-litre of friulano. It was extremely enjoyable but I had to leave - a train beckoned.

It’s only a short hop to Trieste, and my sole aims were to walk along the Adriatic and to provision for the next leg of my journey.

Trieste is, I’m sure, perfectly charming, but you’re only going to see so much in less than an hour and a half, and I really couldn’t miss the next train.

So, a brisk walk along the shore, and an unexpected encounter with James Joyce later, I was back at Trieste Centrale.

I was about to take another huge leap for bureaucratkind…

#interrail2025: Day 3 (part 2) - over the Alps via Stevenage?

So, Brno (and the Czech Republic) left behind, it was time for a change of scenery, as I was heading for Italy. The obvious route is to change trains at Vienna and catch the Venice-bound Railjet there. But I’ve been to Vienna, and I wanted to get some bonus steps in, and so, I picked Wiener Neustadt as my connection point.

The journey to Wiener Neustadt was a relatively uneventful one, and my first destination soon hove into view. Dropping off my luggage at a convenient located left luggage point, I set off to explore the charms of the town. That didn’t take long.

In fairness, it should have been obvious really. “Neustadt” is a bit of a clue. And yet, the town was founded in 1194, was the site of a royal residence (Empress Eleanor died here in 1467) and is the home of the Theresian Military Academy, where the Austrian Armed Forces train their officers. Unfortunately for all concerned, the town was bombed to smithereens during World War II, as a major strategic target.

In most of Central Europe, there was a concerted effort to rebuild and restore. Wiener Neustadt, on the other hand, decided to take a different route. I don’t know if the planners for the town were comparing notes with their opposite numbers in Stevenage, but there is a strange similarity between the two. This is not entirely meant to be a compliment.

But I did find somewhere to buy a few needed toiletries for the rest of my trip, and the cinnamon bun I bought at the station was very nice.

Back to another train, the “Gondoliere” to, believe it or not, Venice. I’d never been there, and it wasn’t going to be my destination this time either. But it’s a pretty route, up the Semmering Railway (a UNESCO World Heritage Site, no less), through the Alps, along the banks of the Wörthersee and, eventually, into Italy.

At Udine, it was time to get off. Ros had strongly recommended it as a place to see and, I must assure readers, she’s absolutely right. It is absolutely stunning, a small jewel somewhat off the beaten track and probably in the shadow of Venice to the south-west, and even Trieste to the south-east.

I was in need of refreshment, and a glass of the local Friulano was definitely called for. So, I found myself a bar in Piazza Matteotti and ordered one. And another…

As the sun set over Friuli-Venezia, it was time for a stroll back to my hotel. As I passed the Civici Musei, it cried out to be photographed.

But a proper explore would have to wait until the morning. For tomorrow was, kind of, a day off from trains…

#interrail2025: Day 3 (part 1) - a whistlestop tour of Brno

Brno, Monday morning. I’d taken a stroll around the town the previous evening before dinner, and rather liked it, and so I was up early to do it all again, but this time in daylight.

I started with an unexpectedly stiff uphill climb to the cathedral - stone steps, a right knee that wanted to grumble a little and signs of impending fragility made it more challenging than I had anticipated - which is described as a bit dumpy by one commentator but I rather liked it. You know that St Peter and St Paul’s is there, which to my mind is exactly how a cathedral should be.

The climb does give you a decent view of Špilberk Castle, which saved me having to do that too.

Apart from the steps, Brno is a very walkable city, with a relatively compact city core. I did remember to look both ways for trams.

It was, however, time to leave. I might by this time have pretty much lost the ability to speak, but a train was calling me, even if it wouldn’t hear my response…

#interrail2025: Day 2 - “We don’t talk about Brno?”*

Sunday morning dawned bright and early. Cool too, as the temperature had dropped sharply. But Nuremberg is perfectly charming on a Sunday morning without the crowds of a Saturday night, and I thought that a walk would clear the cobwebs before the next train.

As you might expect, Nuremberg has that comfortable sense of a city that does quite nicely for itself, with a high class array of retail opportunities and, despite the results of US and UK-inspired urban renewal, has retained some interesting architecture. The Weißer Turm, which actually has a U-Bahn entrance underneath it, marks the gateway to the shopping district, and I managed to get as far as the castle before turning back to pick my luggage and head for the station.

On reflection, I might have given myself an extra five minutes, as it was a slightly breathless bureaucrat who threw himself and his luggage onto the 10.38 to Schwandorf, where I had discovered a scenic route into the Czech Republic, rather than the obvious Railjet dash via Vienna.

Deutsche Bahn Regional Expresses can be a bit of a mixed bag, and things were made more complex by the unexpected splitting of the train at Neukirchen (bei Sulzbach-Rosenberg). Luckily, I’d got the right half…

I’d left myself just over an hour to connect in Schwandorf (there was an alternative with a six minute connect but I try not to do those anymore), which was intended as an opportunity to get in a few extra steps (yes, I’m still doing my 10,000 steps each day) and whilst I did have luggage to drag, I strode boldly down the mean streets of Schwandorf.

As a small Bavarian town, it does attempt to live up to the cliché. Pretty, white-washed church? Check. Beer garden by the river? Check. I didn’t see anyone in lederhosen, but it was probably only a matter of time.

Back at the station, my connection to Prague was pulling in. Described as a Regional Express from Munich to Prague, the Alex service runs via Plzen and has compartments in first class, which I approve of in an old school sort of way, especially when I get to be undisturbed for three hours, as we wandered across Bohemia. A quick connect to a rather swish Railjet, and I was in Brno in time for dinner. As was Political Animal and his family who, somewhat unnoticed, had picked the same route as I had. And no, I really wasn’t stalking them… or were they now stalking me?

There may have been beer and dumplings involved again, bread dumplings this time - my personal preference - before a relatively early night. A change of scenery beckoned…

* with thanks to Helen Belcher, whose knowledge of Disney hits is clearly superior to mine…

#interrail2025: Day 1 - a day of tight connects made…

I like trains. And no, not in a “isn’t that locomotive interesting” sort of way (although there’s something about a black-painted electric locomotive that calls to me). But I like travelling by train, albeit in comfort. And now that I’m officially aged, it costs rather less to do so.

And we older people get discounted Interrail tickets accordingly, of which I approve hugely.

It would, under such circumstances, be churlish not to take up such an opportunity, and so I bought myself a “ten days in two months” Senior first class Interrail ticket a while ago. I did rather dither about where I would go, but that sort of thing works itself out, right?

Saturday morning was bright and sunny, and an early start found me in London at a decent enough hotel. I skipped breakfast, as Eurostar feed you in Standard Premier (or Eurostar Plus, as I’m going to have to get used to), and headed for St Pancras International for the 9.01 to Bruxelles-Midi. I’d taken the advice of the Man in Seat 61 and reserved a seat near the front of the train so as to make my twenty minute connection that bit less stressful.

As starts go, Eurostar is a fairly easy way to ease yourself into the rhythm of the thing, with a carriage attendant with a wry sense of humour and a sense of speed that I might not see too often in the days to come.

Breakfast was… meh in terms of quantity, although the pain au chocolat was actually pretty good, and the tea drinkable. The yogurt with pecans and caramelised apple was better than I might have feared, but I was not entirely replete when we arrived in Belgium.

A brisk stroll across Gare du Midi, and ICE315 to Frankfurt was, how should I put it, a bit busy. Even a first class ticket didn’t guarantee a seat, and I was pleased that I had taken the precaution of making a seat reservation a couple of days earlier - the Interrail app tells you whether seat reservations are optional, recommended or mandatory, which is a useful thing to know.

What that meant was that “at table” service wasn’t available, so I had to make my way to the restaurant car to get a sandwich and a beer.

But, courtesy of BlueSky, I discovered that I wasn’t entirely alone. Political Animal, who works for the Local Government Association, was on the train with his family, and so we exchanged slightly stalkerish messages. It turned out that both of us were heading for the same place (eventually). Not stalkerish at all, right?

Arriving in Frankfurt on time (Deutsche Bahn, you’re spoiling us…), all that was left was to make a theoretically easy connection for the day’s final destination. Theoretically, because Deutsche Bahn usually have at least one surprise up their sleeve. We were, supposedly, departing from Platform 7, but that was indicating a train to Bamberg which was supposed to have left two hours earlier. And then, the Easter egg, a late platform switch which led to a slightly unseemly scurry to Platform 3.

I made ICE721 to Nuremberg though, a rather emptier, more genteel affair, and arrived in Franconia’s capital in time for a stroll and dinner. My goal… pork and beer.

What I found, apart from a quite buzzy city centre, was Bratwurst Röslein, which claims to be the largest bratwurst restaurant in the world. Yes, really. And, if Germans are claiming that, I’d wager that it’s probably true. There was pork, and a vast potato dumpling, and too much red cabbage for me to eat without exploding. And, of course, beer.

I strolled back to the hotel, rather more slowly this time. It was all going to be alright, even if my ability to speak was becoming increasingly limited…

Candidate selection: this may not be as easy as you think it is…

There was a lot of talk in Harrogate about the importance of “career structure” in relation to potential candidates, and that having a selection schedule would help candidates plan their moves beyond the short-term. It was also asserted, although it was never made clear to me why, that it would improve the diversity of our candidates.

Now this is not exactly a new concept and I am aware that I was talking about career structures for potential candidates nearly two decades ago. But there are some hurdles that need to be overcome.

Firstly, control of a selection timetable currently sits with the Local Parties. They, or at least their Executive Committees, decide that they’re ready, seek the appointment of a Returning Officer and, theoretically, off they go. Of course, there has to be one available, and the basic rules of supply and demand kick in here. It does get more complex if more than one Local Party is involved, because you need to confirm the approval of each of them before you proceed. It would be fair to note that some Local Parties are more engaged than others.

Presuming that the selection timetable is to come from the newly empowered Joint States Candidates Committee, there is therefore a working presumption that conversations will be had to ensure that any such schedule has buy-in from the appropriate Local Parties, unless there is a currently unannounced suggestion that such power might be taken away. I don't have any reason to believe that any such suggestion exists.

Secondly, if you're serious about giving candidates as much notice as possible in order to do the groundwork in advance, there needs to be at least the making of a schedule. If that already exists, then all is good. if it doesn't, we've effectively delayed the start of selections supposedly urgently sought.

My gut feeling is that, in order to satisfy at least the spirit of what has been promised, we need to do the things outlined in my post on Sunday, i.e.

• thrash out a provisional timetable which includes as many seats as possible, in accordance with the plan that Campaigns presumably either has or soon will have

• advise the Local Parties where they fit into that schedule (although hopefully, the Campaigns Team will have had those conversations already)

• tell everybody what that timetable is

• arrange some approval days to handle potential applicants and schedule them

• appoint some Returning Officers for those seats on the early part of the schedule

Only then can we start selections. How much time do we need? Well, we possibly need to establish who is now responsible for what, which is a bit of an open question, especially as we don't have a widely-known timetable for State Party ratification. The organisers behind the adopted constitutional amendment may find that, if they want urgent action, they are somewhat reliant on the people they rather carelessly upset in the first place.

Now I freely acknowledge that I may be giving the impression of ever so slightly enjoying this. I'm not. But I know a little about human beings and how they operate, and you might not be reasonable in expecting a bunch of people who felt rather trashed by recent events to then put their shoulders to the wheel to make it all work.

I'll be encouraging my colleagues in the East of England to move as fast as we are allowed but, rest assured, I will be attempting to synthesise what was promised in the debate into something that can be delivered.

A wounded, but still feisty, Regional Candidates Committee meets…

Occasional readers (and in fairness, this is an occasional blog these days) will recall that in the dying days of last year, I was elected to my Regional Candidates Committee. I had a slightly naïve notion that, especially in the early stages of the Parliamentary cycle, my knowledge of both process and the rather less tangible morality and ethics aspects of candidate selection and approval might prove useful. And then it went quiet.

Someone rather better connected to the internal politics of the Liberal Democrats might have wondered if it wasn’t too quiet. But that really isn’t me now - you forget just how connected you are as a Regional Officer, especially in London.

The publication of the General Election Review did lead to a slight indrawing of breath at the claim that the candidate system is broken (“English Candidates Committee aren’t going to like that.”, I thought) but I didn’t put two and two together until the publication of the Constitutional Amendment F10, effectively withdrawing key functions from the State Candidates Committees.

It wasn’t, and it remains, wholly unclear how a repurposed Federal Committee, with a majority of members with no experience of candidate system management, will “fix” the system and there had evidently been little or no consultation with English Candidates Committee, so one might imagine that, three days before the debate in Harrogate, a first meeting of our Committee might be less than entirely positive.

The agenda was, pretty much in its entirety, a discussion of what had happened, how we perceived the proposal, and what we might do next. One of the problems with a constitutional amendment which is justified by a not easy to deny sense that the system is broken but without any suggestion as what the fixes might be, is that people tend to assume the worst - that it’s a power grab (which it is), or that Local Parties will lose the power to decide who their candidate will be (unlikely, but hold that thought for another day).

And, as a result, we were unable to agree, either as individuals or as a committee, to supporting the proposals.

I did raise two matters of ‘Any Other Business’, however, suggesting that we invite the Regional Campaigns Officer to talk us through their aims for 2025 and where we might fit into that, and that we would write to the seven MPs across the Region to courteously remind them that we’ll be coming to them in the summer of 2027 to ascertain their intention to re-stand (or otherwise), in accordance with the current rules.

We’ve agreed to both, so I have at least made a contribution early…

Coming soon to Suffolk - Local Government Reform and Devolution

It’s now more than a week (but feels so much longer) since I chaired the recent Mid Suffolk Forum of the Suffolk Association of Local Councils. And, unsurprisingly, the main item on the agenda was moves to abolish the current Borough, County and District Councils and replace them with some sort of Unitary arrangement.

In Suffolk, previous attempts have run aground on the inability of the parties to agree. The County Council always wants a Unitary County, whilst the Districts don’t, and Ipswich wants the biggest unit that Labour can reliably control, some sort of “Greater Ipswich”.

In 2009, when Hazel Blears was promoting her own reorganisation agenda, we ran through pretty much that pattern, made more opaque by her apparent willingness to contort the stated criteria in order to achieve her desired goals. Not exactly gerrymandering, but not exactly just either. In the end, the promise by both opposition parties to scrap the whole thing, combined with the passing of time, did for the proposals.

This time, Jim McMahon laid down some criteria which seemed to rule out many potential options - a target population of 500,000 and a county with a population of 780,000 rather pointed to a County Unitary solution. But, unlike in 2009, when the Conservatives dominated the Districts here, now, Babergh, East Suffolk and West Suffolk are run by rainbow coalitions, whilst Mid Suffolk is dominated by the Greens. And none of them are keen on a County Unitary.

There has been some rowing back by the Minister too. Rumours that he’d be happy with a 4 or 5 Unitary solution for Norfolk and Suffolk combined (an average of 320,000 residents for each) create a whole new set of possibilities - Greater Norwich and Greater Ipswich (both good for Labour), a possible reincarnation of “Yartoft”, a bringing together of two struggling port towns plus a rural hinterland straddling the county boundary - but makes reaching an agreed decision that bit less likely.

We were to receive a presentation on behalf of the County Council and, in fairness, Andrew St Ledger, standing in for the County Chief Executive (I might have dressed more formally had I thought she was coming), made a decent stab at explaining things.

There were questions. Smaller Councils, such as my own, are concerned about potential asset transfers as the new cash-poor Council(s) withdraws from non-statutory activities. How does Drinkstone, or Creeting St Peter, cope with the financing of newly-acquired assets? Or, in the case of Stradbroke, a relatively small village with a leisure centre which serves a large geographical hinterland, how can the tax base cope if responsibility falls back onto it?

We talked of clusters, and how they might be organised, of the seemingly deliberate failure of the Conservative Group on Suffolk County Council to share their plans with Opposition councillors in real time. But it was an hour or so extremely well-spent, I thought.

I also got in a gentle dig at Suffolk County Council for its past failure to respond to Parliamentarian requests for briefings on reorganisation plans. Once again, Peers have been forgotten which, given that the required secondary legislation will receive most scrutiny in the Upper House, strikes me as churlish and potentially problematic. That might have struck home, given that Andrew St Ledger appears to be far more capable, and considerably more engaged than Stephen Meah-Sims did last year (albeit that this isn’t a high bar).

I do think that there is a genuine desire to include our sector in the planning of the new local government arrangements for Suffolk, which suggests that some lessons have been learnt. But there are still six months to go before final proposals are required, so I suspect much energy will be expended, and much debate had, before then.

F10 is passed overwhelmingly. Now the work begins…

I have made my position clear on the proposal to change who manages the candidate pipeline. And, whilst the speeches in favour were impassioned, and the problems outlined all too genuine, I remain unconvinced that “moving the deckchairs” actually does anything to address the complex issues that make approving and selecting candidates so challenging.

I did, and still do, support the espoused goals of the movers. All of the issues they raised in terms of diversity, democracy and career development are entirely valid and should be the focus of all of us involved in the “candidate pipeline”.

But the status quo offered a pretty poor defence, and the constitutional amendment was overwhelmingly carried. That’s democracy. And so we move on. I’m not entirely sure who takes on that mantle but, having won, I presume that more detail will emerge.

There is the small matter of State Party approval, and I would hope that English Council will simply acknowledge events and not put obstacles in the way, which "might" delay the transition. In the meantime, as a member of a Regional Candidates Committee, we’ll have to sit down and work out what we do whilst that transition happens.

It’s clear what our campaigners want, and we need to think about how we deliver that in the near term.

My gut feeling, and this is only a first instinctual draft, is to

• thrash out a provisional timetable which includes as many seats as possible, in accordance with the plan that Campaigns presumably either has or soon will have

• advise the Local Parties where they fit into that schedule (although hopefully, the Campaigns Team will have had those conversations already)

• tell everybody what that timetable is

• arrange some approval days to handle potential applicants and schedule them

• appoint some Returning Officers for those seats on the early part of the schedule

We’ll have to assume that the Selection Rules recently passed by the English Party are effective until or unless someone tells us they aren’t, but that’s a (potential) problem for another day.

There was talk of a different role for Regional Candidates Committees, of pastoral care and support. Traditionally, we saw our role, and indeed, it was defined, as process focused, so some of us, myself included, might not have the skill set for that. Training and support were delivered by others, whereas we were rather more neutral arbiters of an occasionally challenging HR process. Indeed, I used my skills as a Returning Officer as a springboard to apply for, and get, a job running high volume internal recruitment schemes for my employer.

I was damned good at running systems and ensuring that they respected vacancy holders and applicants alike, but I wasn’t much good at dealing with the personal issues of colleagues.

But we’ll see. Ultimately, I’d like to see what emerges from this process, so that I can determine where, or if, I have a useful role to play.

A brief sojourn with my Council colleagues

Monday saw me heading to Creeting St Peter for our final meeting of the 2024/25 fiscal year. I have to admit that it feels a little odd to be chairing a Council that serves a community that I no longer live in, but I still feel that I’m making a contribution, and until my colleagues conclude that they’d be better off without me, I’m happy to serve.The agenda was a fairly light one, but with a vacancy and a colleague unable to attend, it was mostly a meeting of noting reports.We did discuss the proposals for local government reform, benefiting from the presence of our County Councillor, Keith Welham, and one of our two District Councillors, Ross Piper.It’s all rather unsatisfactory, as there’s no sense of agreement between the two key players - the County Council on one hand, who want a unitary County, and the massed ranks of the four Districts and one Borough, who want two or three smaller Unitaries. And there’s an awful lot of “well, if we got this arrangement, we could do that”, which doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.But rather than waste time in conjecture, we made our way through the rest of the business. That included a planning application regarding putting solar panels on the enormous shed which is the regional hub for The Range. Given that we’d been questioning why they weren’t required in the first place, we were hardly likely to object.The finances remain healthy, which as acting Responsible Finance Officer reassures me, although I am beginning to think that we need to think about a reserves policy going forward.We ended things reasonably promptly, and I was offered a lift back to Needham Market by Ross, who I hadn’t really had an opportunity to talk to up until then. Whilst we come from different parties, I am convinced that he merely wants to put something back into our community and he is certainly keen to take up our issues where he can.Our next meeting isn’t until May, when it will be time for the Annual Parish and Annual Parish Council Meetings. I ought to start thinking about my report, I guess…

More thoughts on those proposed changes to the way the Party manages candidates

Yesterday, I wondered about the impact of proposed changes to how the Party manages candidate approval and selection in relation to my current role as a member of my Regional Candidates Committee. I wasn't convinced that it left me with much of a role.

But it did lead me to take a closer look at the proposals, and the more I look, the less I like it.

At the moment, each State Candidates Committee has responsibility for establishing a list of approved Parliamentary candidates, determining how they will be approved and what the processes are for selecting candidates in each parliamentary constituency. It isn't perfect - there were always issues about whether an approval under the Welsh system was valid in England, and vice versa, although as the systems converged, and the Scots and Welsh Parties effectively adopted the systems developed in England, these problems tended to fade to insignificance.

What does tend to "gum up" the system is:

• a lack of people willing to be approved as Parliamentary candidates

• a lack of people willing to be trained as candidate assessors - it's a pretty full-on responsibility

• a lack of Returning Officers - likewise it's a pretty labour intensive role requiring a varied set of skills

• an unwillingness from some Local Parties to select earlier rather than later

In other words, it's mostly human resources which get in the way of the best intentions of a group of volunteers.

And so, the proposal intends to solve these problems by centralising the process - "professionalising" as the text of the motion reads. From my perspective, it isn't clear to me how changing who manages the process will actually address the shortages of volunteers to actually run it. Indeed, the motion is silent on it, and there has been seemingly no effort to explain.

Now far be it for me to suggest that this proposal has not been drafted with any consideration for the "poor bloody infantry" who deliver most of the candidate selection and approval activity, all of whom are volunteers, but I am aware that there has been no meaningful consultation with those in key positions on State Candidates Committees, and that this proposal has been rushed through in the light of a report which was only published seven weeks ago.

In other words, the General Election Review report has been published, its findings endorsed by Federal Board, and a major change to the party's constitutional arrangements drafted in just five weeks. You'll pardon me if that doesn't suggest that any consultation that might have taken place was perfunctory at best.

Personally, I am unconvinced, noting that those people who spent the past five years at the coal face of candidate approval and selection don't appear wildly impressed either by the General Election Review or by this proposal.

But this may not be the worst of it...

Am I to be abolished just as I was getting started?

Having had what I might describe as "not the happiest experience" with my Regional Party four years ago, I decided that, perhaps, I ought to dip a toe back into the water. And so, I ran for, and was elected to, the Regional Candidates Committee.

As a former member of the English Candidates Committee, Senior Returning Officer and candidate assessor, I do know my way around the world of candidate selection and approval and, I like to think, I have some wider credibility amongst the "candidates fraternity" within the Party. In short, I though that I could be useful.

But change and uncertainty are seldom far away and, in this instance, this comes in the form of a rather lengthy motion/constitutional amendment which will come to Federal Conference later this month.

My attention was drawn to the proposed redrafting of Article 19.1 of the Federal Constitution which currently reads as follows:

Each State Party shall establish a Candidates Committee or provide for some or all of its functions to be discharged by another unit or units (and every such unit shall be deemed to be a State Candidates Committee for the purposes of this Article 19).

The revised version as proposed reads:

Each State Party shall establish a Candidates Committee in order to carry out its responsibilities for elections to the Westminster and European Parliaments as well as any elections to the House of Lords or its successor, including implementing the requirements set under Article 13.5. 

This appears, on the face of it, to deny the right of State Candidates Committees to devolve some or all of their functions to Regional Candidates Committees which leads to the question:

What are Regional Candidates Committees for in this brave new world?

And, I have to admit, the answer appears to be "nothing".

I think that I'm going to have to ask some questions...

Now that bureaucracy is truly a dirty word…

These are challenging times for public administration, nowhere more so than in the United States, where Messrs Musk and Trump (but mostly Musk) are cutting a swathe through government department after government department. And, because Musk has very little experience of government, as opposed to selling ideas - his track record in selling actual things doesn’t seem to be that good if Tesla and X are any indicator - he does seem to be operating on a ‘break things in haste, repair at leisure (if at all)’.

Now, because I live in the United Kingdom, rather than the United States, I don’t have an intimate knowledge of how efficient, or otherwise, the various governmental organisations are across the Atlantic. But there are some truisms that are generally applicable. Politicians often get in the way of good administration - by under resourcing it, or changing the priorities frequently, or by interfering with operational activities. And, in a political system where politicians are rewarded for bringing the bacon home to their state or district, and where horse trading is rampant, the scope for disruption is all the greater.

Like the business community, administrators prefer consistency and evolutionary change. This allows you to make the necessary resourcing adjustments in a planned way, minimising damaging disruption and wasted investment.

And, if your administrative cadre are paid less than the equivalent rate in the private sector, that reliability is a factor which allows government to recruit and retain the sort of quality people who you really want - committed to public service and expert in their field.

Musk doesn’t appear to get that, and why should anyone expect otherwise? If something fails, he is rich enough to write off his investment and move on to the next thing. Previous customers may be less inclined to purchase his products going forward, but there are plenty of potential customers out there. Government is different.

If government screws up, people starve, or go bust, or get hurt, or die. If you reduce, or remove entirely, employees who fulfil important functions, you may suddenly discover that something you want to happen can’t. If you cut tax collection staff, you might find that you raise less money and need to cut things that voters like, or want (of course, this may be the aim of the exercise).

Here’s the key difference though - voters can fire you if you upset them enough - and no investment or PR exercise will change that immediately. I’m fairly confident that Elon Musk doesn’t feel the need to factor that into his operations.

My experience, at least in the United Kingdom anyway, is that the sort of people who complain about too much governance are, simultaneously, the very same people who are demanding that “there should be a law against it”. I don’t get the sense that Republicans see the world quite the same way - they take pride in the idea of self-reliance and self-government. But even they demand laws against “woke”, and limits on things that they don’t like. And who’s going to enforce those laws?

It is a nervous time to be an American bureaucrat, and I’m really not sure how I would respond if the same situation arose in Britain. But, for the rest of us, the experiment in tearing down an entire bureaucracy whilst expecting key business to continue as normal is going to one that some politicians in developed and developing countries will watch with interest, seeking a template for similar policies at home.

But don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone…