Placetest: Folkestone

 

The European connection

As a harbour town, travel has always been part of Folkestone’s identity and, in fact, part of its very founding. In the seventh century, Eanswith, princess of the Kingdom of Kent built a nunnery in Folkestone – the first in England – and a church later built on the site became a site of pilgrimage. More recently, in the 1920s and 30s, you could board the Orient Express at Folkestone Harbour, and until last year, the luxury rail route still ran via the town.

 

In 1959, Salvador Dali arrived by boat into Folkestone for the UK book tour of his biography, and many other people have arrived and left Folkestone via its harbour. Ferries to Boulogne in France were once the town’s focus and, although they stopped in 2001, Folkestone is the UK embarking point for the Eurotunnel, from which you can be in France in 35 minutes. On a clear day you can see France – the town is closer to France than it is to London (22 miles to Boulogne). Indeed, one day as I search for fossils and sea glass on the beach at The Warren, a text pops up on my phone welcoming me to France.

 

Several people I speak to miss the ferries. Daniel, a musician who has lived in the town on and off since the 1990s, tells me about taking the ferry as a teenager just for a night out. There was a disco on the ferry, so they’d take it to France, disembark while the ferry emptied, then get straight back on to continue the party. Another interviewee tells me about travelling for lunch. “It was only a few quid and it was great fun,” she says.

 

For some people this connection to the continent is the reason they came to the town. Jackie, for example, moved four years ago, partly because she has two children living in Belgium who she wanted to be able to visit more easily. However with post-Brexit border rules increasing bureaucracy and rising fuel costs, the continent has become less accessible in recent years.

 

Folkestone remains an attractive area for holidaymakers and tourists. In recent years, money has been invested in building new places to eat and drink, and encouraging a variety of artistic pieces, boosting visitor numbers.

 

In 2023, 13 per cent of businesses were related to tourism, with the majority having less than nine employees – meaning Folkestone’s tourist industry is as much about the community as it is the money. As such, people are less resentful of tourism here than in many other places.

 

“I love that I live somewhere people want to come on holiday,” Nula remarks as we talk about the town. “How lucky am I to live here?”

 

 

Folkestone has a long history of welcoming those from afar. During the First World War, over 100,000 refugees from Belgium arrived at Folkestone harbour and were housed in hotels and guest houses around the town. A memorial to them, Rug People by Paloma Varga Weisz, stands on the disused tracks at the newly developed Harbour Arm.

 

During the Dunkirk evacuations in the Second World War, nearly 35,000 troops and 9,000 refugees landed in the harbour. In 2022, as a marker of this connection, Little Amal, the giant puppet created to celebrate human migration, arrived in Folkestone from France, before continuing her journey across the UK as part of her 8,000-mile walk to raise awareness of the plight of asylum seekers and refugees.

 

People seeking asylum still come to Folkestone today. In 2020, Napier Barracks was commissioned by the Home Office as temporary accommodation for the 400 asylum seekers, run by the private company Clearsprings, with daily management subcontracted to Nationwide Accommodation Services. Both companies have seen large profits and continue to be commissioned by the government, despite reports of the barracks being filthy, impoverished and run like a detention centre. This led to a High Court Judgement in 2021 that the home secretary’s decision to use the barracks was unlawful and irrational.

 

People I speak to are divided in their opinions on asylum seekers and refugees in the area. “The boats are more visible here,” one person tells me, referring to the small boats crossing the Channel from France. Others report that, although a large number of asylum seekers are housed in Folkestone, the claims of small boats threatening peace in the town are exaggerated or downright made up.

 

“It does make some people feel unsafe,” one person tells me. She thinks this is mainly down to cultural difference as well as structural inequalities in support services for newly arrived asylum seekers and other immigrants.

 

 

Meanwhile, other communities are moving to the area. In 2000, the 2nd battalion of the Royal Gurkha Rifles moved from Aldershot to nearby Shorncliffe, and although parts of the camp have since been sold, active troops remain there. Over the years, the size of the Gurkha community has expanded beyond the barracks, and many Gurkha families have retired or moved into the area in Cheriton and surrounds.

 

The presence of the Gurkha community is a source of pride for some and contention for others. For some people I speak to, their presence marks not only the multicultural embrace of the town but a shared military endeavour – one that is enshrined in the landscape of Folkestone in the form of a memorial to the Gurkhas on Sandgate Road. There has, however, sometimes been tension. Following the Brexit vote, some Gurkha businesses were attacked.

 

Most people I talk to, however, appreciate the presence of the Gurkhas. This seems to be because the community both works hard to contribute to Folkestone and takes care of itself. On a recent occasion when some younger people damaged some property, the head Gurkha came down and asked to look at the CCTV so he could deal with the situation. “They take care of their own issues,” a long-term resident tells me.

 

The military history of Folkestone is long. Shorncliffe Army Camp, established in 1794, was the training camp for the Duke of Wellington’s Light Forces, and a staging post for the First and Second World Wars. An estimated 10 million troops, medical personnel and other workers travelled from Folkestone Harbour to the trenches of the First World War, and more than 100,000 refugees, including members of the Belgian royal family, arrived there before being housed in hotels and boarding houses in the area. Five Martello towers, dating back to the Napoleonic Wars, overlook the town, and memorials abound to the military past, from art installations, to information boards, to street names and more.

 

In contemporary times, it is not only the Ghurkas who are stationed in Shorncliffe. Since 2022 Folkestone and Hythe has been one of the areas at which the Ministry of Defence have been training Ukrainian forces – mostly ordinary people who have given up their jobs as bakers, postmen and others to fight in the war. This current use has caused some disturbance.

 

Bex, whose family has lived in the area for many generations, and who now lives close to training grounds outside the town, told me that they hear gunfire and other noises from 7am until 10pm at night. “We’ve got used to it now,” she tells me, “but the dog is terrified.”

 

 

Domestic immigration

Immigration to Folkestone is not only international but also domestic. Since the Covid lockdowns, increasing numbers of people have moved from London to Folkestone, taking advantage of the cheaper house prices, the seaside location and good schools. The growing number of DfLs (Down from London, as they’re known) is contentious. There are feelings that their arrival is driving up house prices and pricing long-term residents and local families out of the area. Because of this, some people feel resentment.

 

Rachel, a journalist of mixed heritage who moved to the town in 2021, tells me there is a race-based element to this. “It was never as easy for people of colour to do, as it was for white people,” she says. “For white people, the main consideration is where would be beautiful to wake up to. As people of colour, there is also: Is the area diverse? And if not, what are the attitudes towards people of colour? No one wants to uproot their lives and put down money in a house and then not be welcome.”

 

She moved to the area after first coming to stay with her friend, who had grown up in the town. Rachel trusted their judgment on her safety and welcome, and it has been good. “I really like it here,” she says. “I like the slower pace. I like that it’s regenerated to a point where it’s not boring. I like that people are invested in the area so, if they don’t like something, they get together and deal with it.”

 

Daniel believes the mixed community makes Folkestone unique. “Different people bring a different way of thinking” he says. “That’s good. Everything written about this regeneration bangs on about all the places you can see or where you can eat but actually it’s the community that creates these connections... It’s the staff and the locals that make it – the ones who came here in between and built all this together; the locals that are starting businesses on the Harbour Arm and making things happen; and the DfLs who are coming here and going: I love this place; I want to have a business here.”

 

 

A legacy of arts

Folkestone’s arts heritage has pedigree. In the 1820s and 30s a number of paintings of the harbour and surrounds were completed by Turner, while Constable spent time in the town in 1833, completing several drawings and paintings. In 1886, the Art Treasures Exhibition – a travelling display of British fine art – was held in Folkestone. A pavilion was built for the event, which was later renamed the Pleasure Gardens Theatre before being demolished in 1964.

 

In music and literary fields, the singer and guitarist Jimi Hendrix was a regular visitor, writing and performing across the town, primarily because it was the home of his bass player Noel Redding. HG Wells lived in Sandgate between 1896 and 1909. While living there he wrote his novels, The War of the Worlds and The Invisible Man.

 

This focus on all the arts continues to this day. The annual book festival, running in November each year since 1980, has hosted authors and poets including Benjamin Zephaniah, Joolz, Angela Carter, Ian McEwan, John Cooper Clarke, Ted Hughes, Elif Shafak, Ben Okri and Philip Hoare. The Folkestone Bookshop on Tontine Street, which describes itself as a “radical, independent, bookshop and community hub”, continues the practice of literary openness. Meanwhile, a number of music venues, such as the Leas Cliff Hall and 20th Century Speedway, provide spaces for musicians, local and touring, to regularly play.

 

 

As such, there is space for all sorts of creativity and experimentation. The community and the council are open to trying things out and giving them a chance. Andy, a photographer who moved to the area a few years ago and lives in the town’s West End, thinks this is part of what makes it a good place to live: The willingness to support people’s ideas and entrepreneurship makes it exciting: “It’s like, whatever you’re doing, we’ll give it a try.”

 

This spirit of community is evident in the many annual events held in the town, ranging from Kate Bush Day, where people meet on the Harbour Arm, dressed in red, and sing “Wuthering Heights”, to the annual Living Advent Calendar: a series of events throughout December bringing community members together across the town.

 

Of particular note is the annual Charivari festival, held each summer, which has its inspiration in a much older European folk custom of rough music parades aimed at publicly shaming a local person deemed to have wronged the community in some way. This public justice aspect has been dropped for the Folkestone version, first held in 1997 and run by local arts organisation Strange Cargo.

 

Over the years, it has become a central part of the annual calendar – a joyful event of several hundred, mostly young, costumed people parading the streets from the fish market to the Leas bandstand, accompanied by local bands and other participants. It may not have the public shaming element of historic Charivari parades but its other underlying aim – of helping solidify belonging and community by bringing people together through music and participatory parading – remains key. Other Folkestone events include the women’s festival Take Up Space, the arts festival Salt and Earth and the Folkestone Documentary Festival.

 

Being part of a creative centre makes Folkestone attractive to a wide array of people, and other communities have subsequently grown up in the town. Fabia, who runs one of the shops on the Old High Street where she sells her artwork and textiles, tells me one of the things she likes about Folkestone is that the community at large is warm and welcoming: “I’ve never felt like I’ve properly belonged anywhere. But I feel like I belong here… The community is just so amazing. It’s full of the most supportive people.”

 

Nula says: “Folkestone gives you freedom to flourish. I think there’s a tremendous amount of love here.”

 

Indeed, I felt warmly welcomed by people across the town, and every person I was with ran into other people they knew while we were walking, talking, sitting, drinking or eating. One Friday morning, I joined a local walking group for one of their weekly meetings. We walked together through the coastal path and on to Sandgate, where 20 of us sat for tea or hot chocolate before leaving each other to get on with our day. There are singing groups, sewing groups and, of course, swimming groups. Fabia tells me she recently joined a queer/LGBTQIA-plus-friendly sea-swimming group with over 190 members. She loves its openness and welcome. “We hang out and go swimming in the sea,” she says. “It’s bloody freezing but it’s the best.”

 

 

This openness does more than create spaces of belonging. It encourages and engenders creativity as well. Fabia says that since moving to Folkestone she has become more confident in both herself and her art. It’s changed the colours she works with and she’s becoming bolder. Jackie has restarted an arts practice that lay dormant for years. Part of an art collective in the 1980s, she had stopped painting following the death of several friends. Over 30 years later, after moving to the town, she has picked up her brush again and in the last year, has been part of three exhibitions in the town. She tells me that her friend who was visiting, had turned to her recently and asked: “How can you not make art here?”

 

Others have been inspired by the seashore and the treasures that can be found there. In The Warren, for example, sea glass is abundant – remnants of a Victorian glassworks that once operated in the area. Amateurs and professionals alike collect the glass and make it into art. Nicola, who lives in a flat in the Leas overlooking the sea, tipped out a bowl to show me: blue, green and white glass mixed in with fossils, all collected from the shore.

 

 

Arts-based regeneration

Folkestone’s arts-led regeneration is part of a wider trend across the UK. Kent, in particular, has invested heavily in the concept, notably with Margate’s Turner Contemporary gallery, which opened in 2011 and the reopening of the Marlowe theatre in Canterbury that same year. In Folkestone, the drive has included an active investment in public art, as well as subsidised rent for apartments and shops to attract creatives. This has gone hand-in-hand with the revival of the Old High Street as the Creative Quarter, the establishment of the Folkestone Triennial arts festival in 2008 and pubic exhibitions, including Folkestone Artworks. The latter is the UK’s largest urban collection of contemporary art in a free, open-air exhibition, featuring work by 46 artists, among them Tracey Emin, Lubaina Himid, Mark Wallinger, Antony Gormley, Yoko Ono and Cornelia Parker.

 

The high street regeneration is headed by Creative Folkestone, one of several charitable bodies overseen by Roger De Haan, who inherited the Saga group of companies from his father, then sold it for £1.35 billion, investing much of the proceeds into Folkestone’s regeneration.

 

Creative Folkestone was established in 2002 to try and bring back money and energy to the old town centre, largely via tourism, following the town’s decline in the late 1990s and 2000s. The charity owns and runs over 90 buildings in the area, including flats, workshops, offices and shops. De Haan also backed the F51, the world’s first multistorey skatepark, designed by Holloway Architects, which also includes the tallest climbing centre in the South East. The skatepark offers £1 per month memberships to some school children in the area aged 5-15 and hosts girls/women-only sessions too.

 

 

As for the Harbour Arm, this is led by the Folkestone Harbour and Seafront Development Company. De Haan purchased Folkestone harbour for £11m in 2004 with ambitious plans for two satellite university campuses and a marina for 200 yachts. The original idea was scuppered by the 2007 recession and planning permission was granted for 1,000 homes in 2013.

 

Development of the Harbour Arm has resulted in a vibrant area of hospitality and entertainment venues loved by many who visit it. Walking through the area on a sunny day in October, it reminded me of Reffen Street Food Market in Copenhagen – all containers and hipster food; coming at that price too. The disused rail viaduct and station platforms have been transformed into a walkway with plantings inspired by New York’s High Line. It doesn’t feel as welcoming on an October evening when it was empty apart from me, a couple of fishermen (sea bass and pollock – not so good this year), dog walkers and runners. But music, from the fifties and sixties, was still coming from the speakers. That, mixed with the quietness and the dark, gave the whole area an uncanny feeling, as if I had been transported in time.

 

De Haan told The Guardian in August 2023 that he had already spent £100 million. “I bought the land, commissioned three major masterplans, raised the level of the beach and refurbished the harbour arm to get it into its current state,” he said. “It’s had immense investment and it’s immensely challenging and high-risk. And now people criticise us for building on the beach. But it never was a beach – it was half a mile of concrete and tarmac. The order I did the work in is unusual, some might say foolish.”

 

Some of the locals express concerns that the scheme’s coastal position could make it vulnerable to flooding, however a spokesperson from Folkestone Harbour and Seafront commented: “The natural shingle beach at Folkestone is a very effective sea defence. Shingle beaches act like a reshaping sponge when waves hit them … It is for that reason that the decision was taken to enhance this natural defence rather than build a seawall, which would have been a more expensive and destructive option for what is a beautiful beach.”

 

They added: “Regular beach level surveys check the health of the beach and determine if any work is required. Works have already been completed in 2023 to reshape the beach and it is expected this will be necessary every two-to-four years.”

 

 

From seaside arcades to privatised space

Unlike many other British seaside towns, Folkestone has no pier or seafront arcades. As such, it misses some of the rambunctious (some may say tawdry) feel of other seaside towns with their neon lights and buzz of liveliness. The result is a quieter town, feeling both more remote and serene than, for example, Margate or Southend.

 

This wasn’t always the case. In 1888, a 200m-long pier opened at the bottom of the Leas. On it, a pavilion hosted events such as wrestling matches and beauty pageants. In 1910, a skating rink opened at the west side. Like other piers in the region, it was the war that saw its demise. Following damage, including a fire in the pavilion, and neglect in the austere years that followed, the pier was eventually demolished in 1954. No remains were evident until June this year, when, 70 years after its demolition, its foundation stone was located in a local salvage yard and moved to the Lower Leas Coastal Park, close to its original position, by members of Go Folkestone, a voluntary community working “together for the best future of the town”.

 

 

The Rotunda, meanwhile, was a vibrant amusement park at the foot of the Leas which remained until the early 2000s. As well as the usual helter-skelter, dodgems, and indoor arcade, there were roller coasters, including the Magic Mouse, and the Runaway Coaster. A Sunday market ran every week from the site. Several people speak fondly to me of childhoods spent there, while others bemoan the lack of places and provision for teenagers now it has gone. About growing up and raising children in Folkestone, Bex tells me: “We always had the market, we had the Rotunda, the boating pool … You always knew where the kids were because they were down there.”

 

The only thing left from the era is the Grand Burstin Hotel, an over-sized building in the shape of a ship, built on the site of the former Royal Pavilion.

 

The area where the Rotunda sat is now called the Shoreline and is part of the development that includes the Harbour Arm and the Shoreline housing development.

 

Shoreline has received much attention both architecturally and in the press. It won Best Flat (under 100 residences) at this year’s Evening Standard New Home Awards, and was highly commended in the British Home Awards. In September The Guardian revealed that only 15 of the 84 already-built apartments and houses had been sold.  When I emailed Shoreline Folkestone to ask about this, a spokesperson commented: “We are pleased with the progress of sales at Shoreline. Our pace has picked up and we are on target for where we need to be with a development at this level of the market.”

 

The market is high-end for Folkestone. One-bed flats start at £395,000, while houses in the development cost upwards of £1.25 million. In an area where the average house price is £317,000 and the average annual income is £35,700, the properties do not seem to be aimed at locals.

 

 

It is not only the affordability of housing that is an issue. Many people are disappointed in the lack of social housing built so far. Folkestone Harbour and Seafront says affordable housing accounts for 8 per cent of its entire scheme and is in the plans for the new developments. The housing market, however, is apparently delaying this. Nicola, a member of the Go Folkestone team, comments: “We’re all waiting for the housing market to pick up to enable the development to move forward.”

 

Despite these plans, most people I speak with, regardless of their age, income, or longevity in the area, feel it isn’t enough. It links to a wider dissatisfaction with the stratification of development in the town, and a feeling of neglect from long-term locals and their families. While the Harbour Arm includes an open-air cinema and numerous bars and restaurants, the prices are considered unaffordable. There is little for teenagers to do and while many workshops are run throughout the holidays by Creative Folkestone and other organisations in the town, most cost money, meaning many families cannot afford them. The De Haan Charitable Trust reports that over £90 million has been donated to the area, with money going into schools, sports facilities and art – including the F51 skatepark.

 

Elsewhere, community facilities have shut down for cost reasons. Folkestone Sports Centre – run by a charity – closed at the end of July with an ongoing bidding process to take it on and reopen it. The Folkestone Library closed in 2022 due to water damage deemed too costly to repair. In July, it was announced that library services will be moved to the former Debenham store due to the cost of fixing the historic building.

 

Bex outlines the issue directly: “We need more facilities and investment in the existing community – the ones who’re actually going to be here, the ones who’ve been here for generations. [We need] an affordable sports centre, and making things affordable for kids during summer holidays. You’ve got the skate park but not everybody can afford it.”

 

It’s not only sports venues that are being affected by ongoing challenges related to cost. In October, the owners of Chambers, a renowned musical venue that has been open for 26 years, announced its closure at the end of the year.

 

Could this mark the start of a downturn of the town’s creative influx? For some people rents increased by over 15 per cent this year. “The landlord fulfilled his prophecy,” one person tells me. “He bought up all the property, got it all done up and then became a proper landlord. The rents aren’t affordable any more.”

 

 

Another concern brought up by locals is the lack of good-quality medical facilities.Folkestone itself only has an urgent treatment centre for minor injuries, for the nearest A&E, people have to travel to Ashford or Margate. Given the continued reduction of funding to services like the NHS, this is becoming increasingly difficult for those without cars. Several of the medical facilities that do exist have been in special measures and, although have improved recently, funding remains tight.

 

Changes to parking regulations are also frequently discussed. Removing the free parking and introducing permits may protect spaces for locals but it prevents low-income families from visiting, beginning to stratify visitors as well as residents in the area.

 

Finally, there is concern that Kent’s 11-plus grammar school entrance exam creates educational and social stratification. As Sheila, whose grandchildren live very close to her in town, comments: “If you happen to be on the passing side, you’re in clover. You get a really good education. I just hate the fact that some people are labelled at 11. It’s a stinking system.”

 

Social stratification is evident in other ways across the town. Several people talk about a noticeable divide, especially between the “old” town centre, and the Old High Street, now centre of the Creative District. It’s true that, although they flow into one another, as you walk around, the town feels zoned. Some of this reflects where money has been injected so far in Folkestone’s development: ie the Harbour Arm, Shoreline and Creative Quarter. It also reflects the feeling expressed by several residents I speak to that the focus is on attracting tourists and wealthy out-of-towners rather than supporting those already there. While some areas of Folkestone are well off, others have high levels of poverty. Daniel calls it economic classism. “I just wish there was more input into the people already living here,” adds Bex.

 

 

The division is also political. The elections this year showed a sharp political divide. Traditionally Folkestone has been a safe Conservative seat since the 1950s when it was set up as a constituency. The latest boundary changes in 2024 saw its size reduced slightly, and in this year’s general election the seat was taken by the Labour candidate Tony Vaughan. It was close, however, with both the Conservatives and Reform receiving sizeable numbers of votes.

 

Despite all this, many of the people that I meet are not adverse to development per se and actively support that already undertaken by De Haan. While not everyone is a fan of Shoreline, most people I speak to appreciate what the influx of money has done for the town and understand that, as an investor, De Haan will want a return.

 

“Folkestone got really run down at the end of the nineties and then the 2000s,” Sarah tells me. She was brought up in the town and moved away for university and work, before coming back. “There was nothing,” she says. “It was really run down. Since De Haan started investing in the Creative Quarter and the Harbour Arm it’s taken a real uptick.” While Sarah sees that some of its seaside charm has been lost (“because the amusements have gone”), it has transformed into something different. “I don’t necessarily think that it’s better or worse. It’s just different,” she concludes.

 

Kay, who works in local radio, says “It’s brought life back to the area.”

 

It is the next phase of development that raises more concern. Recently released plans include multistorey apartment blocks behind the Harbour Arm that stretch out along the seafront next to those already built. There are fears new residents will further overstretch resources such as doctors and schools.

 

People are also concerned about the impact on this vast landscape of open sea and sky. As Jackie comments: “You get the feeling of the power of the sea and the enormity of it all, but if they start building five and six-storey flats, they are just going to close all of that down.”

 

Dean, a long-term Folkestone resident who heads the residents’ association of the Bayle, agrees, saying what’s planned “will stop something of the freedom. Part of what’s inspiring being by the sea is the vastness and the openness. At the moment it’s all low level but what they’re planning is just too much. It will stop all of that.”

 

The restricted freedom extends beyond the vista. Many of the new public areas are privately owned. The walkway that runs from the Harbour Arm along the beachfront, for example, is a “permissive footpath” rather than a public right of way. The 800m long Boardwalk made of railway sleepers that meanders across the pebbled beach is owned by the Folkestone Harbour and Seafront Development Company which has the right to remove people from the area.

 

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