The Bossiest Town in Britain

The Bossiest Town in Britain

We’ve been talking about Cleveleys in our house this morning and what it’s like to live here and how a lot of good souls are trying to make it a town that people enjoy and want to be proud to live in. Which brought to mind something I’d read quite a long while ago. Did you know that Dawlish in Devon has been labelled ‘the bossiest town in Britain’? They have signs every few yards, telling them what they can and can’t do.

The Bossiest Town in Britain

This comes down to just about everything it seems. From not running their car engines when stationary, well I quite agree with that sort of fumes and all that. You can’t feed the birds, launch a boat or ride a bike, skateboard or scooter and heaven forbid you should let your dog off the lead.

Prohibition signs at Dawlish Warren, the bossiest town in Britain. Photo: Dawlish Newspapers
Prohibition signs at Dawlish Warren, the bossiest town in Britain. Photo: Dawlish Newspapers

The list apparently goes on and on and then some. Even the Mayor agrees that something needs doing about it, and I should think so. After all, it’s as good as putting a sign up as you drive into Dawlish saying ‘don’t bother coming here because you can’t put a foot right’ never mind wrong!

I have actually been to Dawlish, which if you like train travel, the railway line runs parallel to the sea there. You might have seen on the news a few years ago that it all got washed into the sea….

Collapsed railway line at Dawlish Warren, Photo: Network Rail
Collapsed railway line at Dawlish Warren, Photo: Network Rail

Anyway, it’s fabulous, along with its red cliffs, as the soil is so red there. There’s a pretty stream running through the centre of the town. Although it’s picturesque, you don’t go there if you like bright lights and razzmatazz! It’s a pretty pleasant little town and they obviously want to keep it that way, don’t we all. But without visitors they would be quieter still!

How to keep people away…

That’s an example of how to keep visitors away, never mind the people that live there, so I did wonder if I was right in thinking that the council had a hand in this. Surely the people that live there are being thoughtful and obeying the rules there anyway, or else. So if I was to go there I wouldn’t be best pleased to see signs every few feet telling me to behave or else!

I also wondered if they had spies lurking behind shop doorways, what few there are. Or do they have a Maffia-style police force that jump out and say ‘boo, got you’. As to what ‘they’ do if you are caught being a naughty person I don’t know, but one thing is for sure, you’ll not want to go back once you’ve been there.

We don’t want to be The Bossiest Town in Britain!

To me, that’s the best way to make people feel unwelcome. There’s nothing like a good old ‘we don’t want you here unless you are very good’ sign every few feet, and that’s exactly the opposite of what people are trying to create in Cleveleys.

We want our town to keep thriving and be a place to come to when you are wondering where to go for a break. Not threaten them with the sky dropping in if they misbehave. OK, we are keen on dog fouling and dropping litter, which every town and city in Britain is. But without visitors and tourists, then where would all these seaside towns be?

Down the swannee, along with all the other places in England that did nothing about the warning signs they saw when their High Streets were disappearing. Slowly and surely the good people of our town seem to be seeing the light and pulling together to make our town somewhere to be proud of. Well I can hope can’t I.

Tales from Chrissie Towers…

I’ll end on a funny footnote today.

The other morning, Jane went into the kitchen where Kevin was as he’d just got up. Jane is usually up around 5am so you can understand why he isn’t up then! Anyway, there he was in dressing  gown and pyjamas looking half dead. Then Jane walked into the kitchen saying ‘Good morning Chrissie’. To which he looked gone out at her and got on his knees and said ‘Good morning Derek’. The bending over was mocking me as I am short and as he was called Chrissie he decided to look like me, and Jane became Derek.

He then came into my bedroom, tousled his hair which is what I look like when I waken up, and on his knees again he said ‘Good morning Chrissie’. I did wonder why he was kneeling to me as there was no need as I’m not nobility yet… But if you can understand what I’ve just typed you’re a good un’ as they say in my old neck of the woods. It certainly gets complicated living in our house, I can tell you!

While you’re here…

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