As I try and read on the train home, I open my eyes, close, and re-open them to different versions of what seems like the same semi-industrial town. Words about structures and governance, and funding punctuate the blurred flashes of anonymous trees and unknown fields.

I wondered how many of the people I’ve explained myself to over the last three days represent the areas that cover the stations at which we don’t stop. Between Derbyshire, Chesterfield, and Wakefield. The shires and the fields evoke visions of the towns and parishes, and the evening session I attended on Localism, and what is next for Localism as devolution doubles, and brexit troubles. 

The session consisted of a panel where each member introduced their view on what’s next for Localism. It was organised by NALC, an organisation that are new to me, like many at the conference were.

I was drawn to this session. They spoke my language, and reinforced my worldview, but most of all they invited me and told me there’d be wine. I will read the report with interest when I get back to work on my PhD, but for now I must turn my thoughts, and my heel, as London and the Cabinet Office beckons.


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