Rachel Reeves on brink of killing one of UK’s oldest theme parks

Rachel Reeves has made much of the happy school holidays she spent with her grandparents in Kettering, where she learnt the value of hard work and helped man the Salvation Army shop connected to their church.

In one of many articles highlighting her connection to the Northamptonshire town and her shoemaker forebears, as she campaigned in the town last year ahead of Labour’s landslide, she fondly recalled “going to Wicksteed Park”.

Yet the Chancellor’s warm words mean little to Oliver Wicksteed today as he looks over the pioneering park his great-grandfather built.

And that’s because Reeves’ Budget now threatens to wreck the very attraction she once visited.

“This mustn’t happen; I don’t even want to contemplate it,” Oliver says firmly as we discuss the prospect of the historic attraction having to close amid rising costs, which he attributes in part to the Government’s controversial autumn Budget.

“It’s the impact that [closing] will have on the well-being of people, which would be the thing that would really matter the most because if this place was not accessible to those people, where would they go?”

We’re chatting over a coffee inside the park’s restored Edwardian Pavillion, which enjoys views over the stunning 281-acre estate. Founded in 1921, Wicksteed is the UK’s oldest mainland theme park and offers visitors beautiful gardens and walking trails, as well as rollercoasters and a log flume.

The Reverend Richard Coles and comedian James Acaster are among its celebrity fans.

“Generations of people have come here and have memories,” explains Oliver of its importance to the community. “People met here, they’ve had their first kiss here, they’ve gotten married and celebrated their weddings here. It’s been the fabric of Kettering and the wider area now for over 100 years.”

The park was founded by Oliver’s forebear Charles Wicksteed, a talented and wealthy engineer who was driven to give local families and their children a free and safe place to play and exercise in large green spaces away from the back streets.

At that time, public parks were typically very formal places where children were told to keep off the grass. It is also known as the birthplace of the modern-day playground, as Charles, a clergyman’s son, created swings and slides as we know them today.

As we walk around the free-to-enter grounds, passing laughing children and dog walkers, the influence of the pioneer’s influencing philosophy remains abundantly clear. But that is of little comfort to Oliver, the chair of the Wicksteed Charitable Trust, which owns the park, so concerned is he about keeping it in business.

After a testing few years, in which it had to access emergency funding to recoup losses sustained during the Covid pandemic, the cost of living crisis, coupled with the Chancellor’s National Insurance hike and minimum wage increase, has left the Northamptonshire attraction in danger of closure.

Its running costs amount to £1.4million per year, and Oliver is warning of “difficult decisions” ahead. Last year, approximately 650,000 of the one million visits to the park were free. But Oliver fears he may have to introduce entrance fees due to his business’s soaring costs.

“The prospect of making people pay is not one that we even want to countenance, frankly, but if we can’t balance the books and we can’t get the funding support that we need, then we’ve got to look at that as an option,” he sighs.

“But I and the team will fight that with every fibre in our bodies. It is in our DNA to offer a healthy green space for all the community. It’s what society and communities need and what society should be doing to care for people, especially those who have got less money and are less able to afford to come to places like this.”

Yet in reality, he may have little choice.

There are more than 25 rides and attractions across the Wicksteed estate, including rollercoasters, a ferris wheel, flume and a railway which has carried more than 20 million visitors over the decades. The trust runs community events and educational sessions and maintains the estate’s nature reserve, medieval water meadow and ancient earthworks.

Much of the annual revenue is generated from the attractions, along with shops, cafes, parking and events like weddings. However, Kelly Richardson, the park’s director of finance, says costs caused by the minimum wage hike and national insurance contributions now amount to an extra £50,000 per year.

Kelly, who, like so many staff members, visited as a child, says one consequence is that she will have to “rationalise” the number of seasonal staff, usually between 100 and 200, employed over the summer.

“We’ll certainly be looking to juggle ride opening times, ride closing times, how many rides one individual member of staff might be manning,” she explains. “That might mean we have one member of staff running two rides and they’ll close one and move to the next one, and so on, to manage the queues that way.”

In addition to the Budget’s “massive cost blow,” she says insurance increases have also taken their toll, rising by around 25% to £200,000.

As Oliver guides me towards the River Ise, which meanders through the park, he says hello to visitors walking past. He’s well aware that introducing park charges will have a dramatic social and economic impact both inside the park and on the wider Kettering community. But he also highlights another concern — the impact on natural ecosystems.

“When you’ve got 281 acres, securing that so you can make it chargeable would be a major, major task in its own right, and that can have effects on the aesthetics of the park,” he explains.

“It’s a country park at the end of the day, it could have an effect on habitats, it can have effects on all kinds of things and that’s why we’re dealing with this now.”

He notes how the park is pre-empting the issue to prevent an economic crisis from becoming an existential one. But he realises that poor families may end up losing out.

“We have two or three of the most deprived wards in the country here,” he says. “And so we recognise that for young people and families living in those conditions, that is one reason why we exist to provide facilities for those people.

“A free playground, one of the biggest free playgrounds in the country and one of the original features of the park. It is absolutely vital for those people.”

Wicksteed’s rich legacy dates back to 1913 when Charles purchased the land. Many locals are employed by the park, including Michael Bush, 59, who started as a ride operator 42 years ago before rising up the ranks to become Head of Estate.

He greets me outside the water chute, which opened in 1926 and is believed to be one of the world’s oldest water rides.

“It means everything,” he says of the park’s importance to him. “It’s been nearly all of my working life. And for the town and for the people locally, it’s a huge part of their life. People care about this place. I think it’s unique.”

Head of Operations Sam Towers, who visited as a youngster and now regularly takes her children, agrees.

She’s worked at Wicksteed for 24 years, starting as a seasonal worker before returning full-time after university.

“I fell in love with the place,” she says. “I call this my job, but it’s really my passion, because with parks like this, it gets in your blood, gets under your skin and you want to go to somewhere that you can have those family memories with everybody, but put something back into it as well.”

A £250,000 grant by the National Lottery Heritage Fund has enabled a “Love Wicksteed” fundraising campaign to save the park from closure – for now. A survey has also been launched to gauge people’s views on how best to support the park.

Stella McCann, 72, and Paula Brown, 71, have been visiting since they were babies in their prams. “I’ve got my grandson coming down next weekend and they always come here,” smiles Stella.

She worries about the impact the park’s closure would have on the community. “I think it’d be a big blow as Kettering is failing as it is anyway,” she says. Paula adds: “When I had a health issue a few years ago it was a lifeline. It would be sorely missed.”

I also meet Mark Dainty, 63, and his wife Karen Dainty, 55, on a regular visit to Wicksteed with their young grandson.

For Mark, Wicksteed Park is part of his family history too.

“My grandad was one of the guys who built the water chute down at the bottom. There used to be a bandstand over there… he built that as well with other guys,” he points over my shoulder. “My uncle was an engineer, I really wouldn’t want to see it close.”

For Oliver, the Wicksteed Park mission is the same more than 100 years on.

He believes the park, which receives no help from Whitehall or the council, saves taxpayer money by providing a free green space to young people.

Should it close and be taken on by the local authority, it would only cost locals more in council tax without the “social impact and reach”.

As I ask Oliver what Charles would make of the situation, he quips: “I believe he would be shouting, probably quite a bit louder than I am, about the fact that this good work is being penalised, not recognised.”