One of the penalties of being a bookseller is that all too often you sell a book that you really wanted read. This time the book was an incisive biography of the notorious businessman Nicholas van Hoogstraten. His conviction for murder in 2003 was quashed on appeal but the judge at a civil hearing nevertheless branded him a murderer. I guess the book, Nicholas Van Hoogstraten: Millionaire Killer, concentrated on this episode in his life but that was not my main interest. I wanted to know if the book shed any insight on the lengthy battle between the Ramblers Association and van Hoogstraten over blocked footpaths on his Essex estate. This was a notorious case that the Ramblers won after 13 years, finally getting barbed wire, padlocked gates, refrigeration units and a barn torn down so that a historic right to walk the land could continue.
Why do we care so much about footpaths across green and often muddy fields? This question goes to the essence of England and being English. It is as ancient as the inclosure of the open fields from the seventeenth century onwards and I suspect older still. It is the assertion of our right of access to private land, whether the owner likes it or not. The right to walk on definitive paths or to roam areas with open access is a statement that England is shared, not a private reserve for those who own land for their work or pleasure.
Of course we can’t roam anywhere, as some walkers regrettably believe. Our right to stroll is restricted either to areas designated under the Countryside and Rights of Way Act in 2000 or to footpaths on the Definitive Map. It is fifty years since the first rights of way were put on the definitive map of Shropshire, and it is a very happy birthday that most are still intact. Of course problems and conflicts occur. Paths get deliberately blocked or planted with crops like oilseed rape that flounce over paths making them unwalkable. Walking groups are at times unreasonable about allowing diversions to cope with changing needs. But by and large the system works.
Walking is also good for jobs. There is a stereotype of walkers using the loos and not spending a penny during their visit. Yet they still contribute more than £250 million to the economy of Scotland, and nearby towns Church Stretton and Bishops Castle have achieved “Walkers are Welcome” status (two of just nine towns to meet the national criteria). And I visited this area for thirty years to walk, spending my cash on bed and breakfast, dining and the occasional pint of beer. All of this is evidence that walking is good for the local economy.
But do we need tourists in Clun? The answer must be yes if we are to keep two pubs, two cafes and an art gallery going. The answer must be yes if we want to keep jobs in the town. And the answer must be yes if we want to prevent Clun sliding into a sleepy hollow for the wealthy retired.
And the best sort of tourists are walkers. They don’t just gawp at the castles and old buildings. They walk and experience the landscape, they learn to love it. And some, like me, love it enough to move here.
Andy Boddington
Published in the Clun Chronicle, September 2008