Candidate selection changes - if the wheels have fallen off, what next?

Word has reached me that English Council, upon being invited to adopt the changes sought by the motion passed in Harrogate by Federal Conference, have chosen to do so, or not, as the case may be. There was a clear majority in the room, but not sufficient to overcome the two-thirds hurdle required to amend the English Party’s constitution.

This leaves things a bit pear-shaped, in that the suggestion that the English Party (or to be more precise, the English Candidates Committee) was the cause of much of the unhappiness with candidate selections has been somewhat reinforced. But, without the approval of the English Party, you might wonder how all of the marvellous things promised by the movers of F10 can now be delivered.

We are told that the Chair of the English Party will be consulting to see what might be done to find a suitable and acceptable solution going forward, and I don’t doubt that Caroline Pidgeon is working on that already (you know where to find me, Caroline…).

From my perspective as a veteran Returning Officer, former candidate assessor and a once upon a time member of English Candidates Committee, now repurposed as a member of my Regional Candidates Committee, there is a degree of uncertainty in terms of what we do now. It rather depends on whether or not there will be an attempt to reintroduce the proposal and, if so, how long that will take.

Attempting to pass the motion at the second attempt means that candidate selections, as well as all of the steps needed before they can take place, are likely to be delayed further. After all, if the new Joint Candidates Sub-Committee comes into being, it will have to:

• Develop and implement candidate diversity action plans
• Determine the criteria for candidate approval
• Adopt rules for the selection and adoption of prospective candidates
• Train Returning Officers so that they might understand and apply accurately the new rules

before we can get on with the selection of candidates.

Now I have been led to understand that the “shadow” Joint Candidates Sub-Committee has already been at work, although what it has done and who is doing it remains, if not a secret, then at least not widely known. However, without the approval of the English Party, they have no authority to act.

But, if you leave all of this to the supposedly ineffectual States and Regions, will all the good things be delivered? Presumably, there is little confidence in that happening, otherwise it wouldn’t have been necessary to change the Constitution, would it?

Now, I know what I would do if it were down to me, but whilst the English Party has already revised its Selection Rules, and has existing procedures for approving candidates, it is still to arrange Returning Officer training and, I presume, doesn’t have the confidence of the Liberal Democrat Campaign for Race Equality. Both of these things can be remedied, albeit some time will be needed to achieve that.

So, we’re still at a bit of an impasse, the constitutional equivalent of a Mexican standoff, if you like. Until someone makes a move which clarifies a way forward, there’s an element of not wanting to do anything that is likely to be overturned sooner rather than later.

It would be fair to say that the prospect of selecting 631 prospective Parliamentary candidates by July 2027 is receding somewhat, but I can only hope that a resolution is close at hand…

#interrail 2025: Day 9 - it had to go wrong eventually, didn't it...

The day dawned bright and sunny and it was time to take a stroll through Mainz, the birthplace of Gutenberg and the seat of the Archbishop-Elector, a key figure in the Holy Roman Empire. There's a nice statue of Friedrich Schiller, which stirred me to hum "Ode to Joy", and the walk past the cathedral down towards the River Rhine is quite nice.

Time was short(ish) as my day's fixed point was the Eurostar back to St Pancras, and I wasn't intending to miss it. But what could be the harm in a short stop in Koblenz on the way? The train to Cologne stopped there anyway, right?

Koblenz is where the Moselle flows into the Rhine, and it attracts plenty of tourists, many of whom are on river cruises or wine tours. The city centre is modestly picturesque, although I merely intended to visit the confluence of the two rivers and head back to the station as a means of getting some more of my daily 10,000 steps.

It was when I got back to Koblenz Hauptbahnhof that things went wrong. The 14.16 to Cologne was on the platform, ready to go. We even had a driver. 14.16 came. 14.16 went. The train stood. My eighteen minute connection began to weigh heavy on my mind but, eventually, we pulled away, only to stop a mile or so further on. An announcement in German didn't really help but I eventually managed to establish that a signal failure at Andernach was to blame. I wasn't going to make that connection and, thus, my Eurostar back to London.

We eventually limped into Cologne, nearly an hour late. Finding the Deutsche Bahn ticket office, a piece of photocopied paper was thrust into my hand, and instructions given to catch the Eurostar (ex-Thalys) service to Brussels. What I was supposed to do about the train to London was left for me to discover at some point. The Eurostar pulled into the platform whereupon chaos ensued. I clearly wasn't the only person whose connection had failed due to Deutsche Bahn's general decrepitude. The train manager dealt with the horde with a degree of sangfroid and I found myself in a fairly comfortable standard class seat.

It was at this point that I realised that I could change my reservation to London using the Eurostar app and, whilst it cost €20, it meant that I could be much more relaxed about missing my original train. The consequences weren't entirely pleasant, but I could deal with that later. There are worse places to be stuck than Brussels Gare du Midi. You can grab a decent meal, drink some really good beer, and do some light shopping for the most important people in your life - beer and fine chocolates never go amiss.

The journey back to St Pancras International was blessedly uneventful, leaving me only with the task of getting back to Ipswich. Greater Anglia's contribution to my trip was to offer a rail replacement bus service from Billericay to Colchester but, despite their best efforts, I made it back to my own bed, walking through the front door just after midnight.

It was good to be home...

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…