The fall … and rise … of the local market
What’s the greatest gift your granny gave you?
Mine? A passion for markets.
It was a special day when I got to spend it with Granny Todd. It meant I didn’t have to compete for her attention with my older siblings. It also meant we took a trip in her vintage VW beetle through the country lanes to Ulverston.
Always on a Thursday; market day.
The cattle market in Ulverston would be open that day, drawing in farmers from across south Cumbria. Down the road from it, the cobbles of Market Street would be covered with tarpaulin clad stalls, traders and locals who would also migrate to the town for that one day of the week.
This was the end of the 1970s, so markets were a bit different back then.
Each stall was run by a small local trader, not a travelling national business. If their produce was food, it was grown, made or caught just miles away and only seasonal…
…Brown shrimps - netted in Morecambe Bay, then boiled and ready to be shelled. Cheeses; Lancashire or Stilton, Double Gloucester at a push. Stalls dedicated to only eggs or only strawberries - freshly picked from Over Kellet Farm near Carnforth.
Back then we never bought our meat from a market stall. Instead, on market day we’d visit our favourite family butcher to stock up for the week on bacon, sausages and a Sunday joint.
Our butcher was Lenny Jones on King Street: the shop with the massive apron wearing pig in the window. The doorstep of his shop had been worn down to a U shape by customers over the years. He was a local celebrity, famed for his pork pies; best eaten warm before the jelly had time to set.
My shopping skills were well honed in Ulverston on those special Thursdays. Granny knew every stall holder, their family and their friends. Convenience and speed wasn’t an option, every purchase required a chat; a couple of minutes of catch up. And importantly, trust was high; you knew you’d get the best produce as each trader’s reputation was on the line, not just with my granny, but with everyone else in the queue too.
You could argue that markets have undergone the biggest challenge in British retail since those last days of the 70s. As local bricks and mortar retail trade has been lost to major multiples and online deliveries, traditional markets have struggled to keep sales going due to the side impact of declining footfall in our town centres. Dwindling stall numbers have also meant a loss of this community glue and local history too; market day as we knew it back then (the day of the week you HAD to go to town) doesn’t really exist anymore.
I’ve therefore been so excited to have seen a resurgence of markets bringing back this energy and community to our towns as I travel around our country hunting down local producers.
These markets show up in a slightly different form these days. Rather than a general, all-inclusive town or village market, they are more specialised; catering to different themes or groups of customers. Craft and Makers Markets are often separated from food markets and speciality fairs.
When it’s about food, street food stalls now take precedence, be that a Souvlaki stand or a Vietnamese salad van. Small scale producers are now local or regional brands, often selling at a range of markets and events to guarantee consistent revenue.
However, the buzz at a market still feels familiar – you to chat to who you buy from, they know their product inside out, you therefore trust what you buy, as there is a face, a name and a local producer attached. A priceless bonus you can’t find in your local supermarket.
My favourite market so far?
Conwy Honey Fair. 700-years old. Holder of a Royal Charter. Held on September 13th every year. A brilliant mix of local beekeepers, plant growers and farm produce. The local beekeepers sell over a tonne of honey on the day by lunchtime alone. Well worth a visit.
What’s your favourite local market?
Please do let me know, I’d love to know, and hopefully plan a trip in my van to visit it soon.
