A conversation in praise of Northfleet

I’m sitting on the windy, bright prom at Gravesend and I call Mary, a Northfleet resident that Mandi connected me too. I explain where I am and she asks if I can see the swans? They are nowhere to be seen and she shares how she hasn’t been to the prom for a long time – she has both been shielding and been very unwell with Covid. She’s recovering and hopeful about getting out to enjoy more soon. She chats about her life and how she moved to Northfleet as a 17 year old, when her Dad got work in the area. 

                                

She vividly remembers arriving on the train and seeing the blue lake and the impressive sports ground and clubhouse and feeling excited about the move to Northfleet. She has a deep affection for the place that she made her home, she has three children, 6 grandchildren and now a great grandchild – many of whom still live close by.

Mary loves the history of Northfleet, especially the many wonderful buildings - from the fancy houses on London Road, many of which have now been demolished, to the two pubs, The Leather Bottle and the Coach and Horses. I hear about the shop ‘Pearsons’, whose owners used to run the Sunday School and the beautiful church she wishes people could come to visit. Mary also tells me about all the community resources that used to be in Northfleet, in addition to the sports ground, there was a youth club and a library (now a small presence in The Hive).  I notice the loss of these community facilities limits the ways in which a community can feel togetherness, and build bonds and connections. 

She notices that when Northfleet council was merged with Gravesend to form Gravesham Borough Council lots of these resources started falling away. I think about how the climate movement focuses on more and more local services, and how the cost saving, merging of services can actually make them less useful and accessible. So many of these challenges come down to ideologically driven economic decisions, often made my by people who don’t live in the place. 

I think back to my Gravesend town centre walk and how the major shops became less used.  Places have to change and evolve, it’s healthy and appropriate – the process of change need to be exposed and the decisions transparent, and made in consensus. For some reason I think about a Belgian friend talking about the political system which is so fragmented (and can make decision making difficult and slow) but requires ongoing consensus and negotiation. Maybe we should allow for more complexity in our decision making? Power to make decisions is complicated, privilege laden thing that so many people are excluded from.

Mary mentions Sharps toffee, a place where she worked, and I feel a moment of connection, my maternal grandmother worked at Bluebird toffee – there are tins now filled with buttons and sewing bits in my Mum’s house.

Mary is the Chair of the Veterans Club – a place established for veterans returning from the second world war and older community members to socialise. The Veterans club have recently offered space to Big Local after they lost their base. Mary is looking forward to when they can reopen and the run their programme of events including lunch clubs and bingo, offering friendship and connection.

Mary is concerned about the new Ebbsfleet development, about it creating a ghetto out of Northfleet which will be surrounded on all sides by the new garden city. She is hopeful that it could bring new facilities but passionate about retaining Northfleet’s sense of it’s own value. We chat about the work that Big Local has done, the secret garden

It’s the day that Ever Given has got stuck in the Suez canal and I watch a large ship pass by. Mary tells me that she remembers a story about a US navy ship getting stuck across the Thames, maybe in the 60s, they had to wait for the tide to rise to re-float it. As we say goodbye the swans appear and I describe them to Mary, briefly bobbing down the river.

I turn to put my phone into my bag and spot a Ladybird on the bench, like a little jewel. A small child is paddling and splashing at the edge of the water, carefully watched over. An older couple, one in a wheelchair, one perched on the concrete bollard chat and gaze out across the river. A family group, spanning at least three generations chat and laugh sharing chips and ice cream on and around the next bench down. It feels lovely, like I’m seeing the place wake up. Witnessing people rediscover and enjoy this space as the Coronavirus restrictions lift. I do hope that Mary can enjoy an ice cream and the sun on her face here soon.

        

Ice cream!