Glimpsed from afar – as far away as possible is best – Croydon’s concrete-and-glass skyline shimmers almost dreamily in the sunshine.
As my train nears the station, it is fleetingly possible to conjure the town’s Sixties heyday as a mini-Manhattan, a bold experiment in post-war modernisation.
Close up, though, and it’s obvious why locals call it a ghost town.
The well-known 24-storey Nestlé Tower is a symbol of urban decay. All around it shops are closing and violent crime keeps rising. And nothing gets fixed because the council – which has declared bankruptcy three times in six years – is at least £1.4billion in debt.
Mention elections to voters here and you’re invariably met with weary resignation or else venom-spitting rage.
If Croydon is a microcosm of Britain, then Thursday’s town hall race reflects the shifting sands of its political landscape. The contest offers a glimpse into the near future, one in which a four- or five-horse race becomes the norm.
Reform, the Greens and the Lib Dems are all snapping at the heels of Labour and the Tories, and polls suggest it will be close.
Arrive at the railway station and you are instantly reminded that Croydon has one of the capital’s highest crime rates. What appeared from a distance to be six police officers in black uniforms and hi-vis tunics were positioned around the concourse one lunchtime last week. It turns out they are something called ‘travel safe officers’ (TSOs) who deal with low-level crime but have no powers of arrest.
The well-known 24-storey Nestlé Tower, centre, is a symbol of urban decay. All around it shops are closing and violent crime keeps rising
Arrive at the railway station and you are instantly reminded that Croydon has one of the capital’s highest crime rates
I immediately rue their impotence as I turn right out of the station to join the crowds heading for the town centre.
Young men on e-bikes and scooters swarm towards us, swishing like slalom skiers from one side of the pavement to the other. So much for the TSOs. As for the genuine article, well, there isn’t a bobby in sight.
‘Think it’s bad now, wait until you see this place at night,’ warns Andrew Skelton, 44, an IT worker. He has lived in the borough for seven years. ‘Council tax has gone up by 33 per cent in the last few years but what you get in return has gone down.
‘I’m still undecided on the elections. I’ve voted for both Labour and the Tories in the past but not again. Not this time anyway.’
Dodge the bikes, walk a bit further, and Croydon begins to yield its landmarks: the capacious Fairfield Halls, South London’s largest arts centre and, standing opposite, the Nestlé tower, empty for 14 years. Windowless, it genuinely looks as if it has been hit by a bomb. Its lower floors bear scrawled slogans such as ‘This is England’. Another beseeches passers-by to ‘Support the UK’.
At the foot of this monolith is a gloomy underpass housing a shopping arcade called St George’s Walk.
A public notice hangs above its entrance: ‘BUSINESSES AND SHOPS IN ST GEORGE’S WALK SHOPPING CENTRE ARE OPEN AS USUAL’ but, as it turns out, more than half have closed down. Step inside and it’s not hard to see – or smell – why. The acrid stench of urine is overwhelming.
Deniz Sengul, 51, who runs the dry cleaners, looks pained as he says: ‘Awful, isn’t it? There are no public conveniences in the town centre so pregnant women and pensioners who get caught short use the arcade as a toilet.’
At the foot of this monolith is a gloomy underpass housing a shopping arcade called St George’s Walk
‘We have CCTV of the vandals, who don’t even bother to cover their faces these days, but the police don’t want to know,’ says local business owner Deniz Sengul
Bird droppings carpet the ground, graffiti covers walls and shop shutters. ‘We have CCTV of the vandals, who don’t even bother to cover their faces these days, but the police don’t want to know,’ says Deniz.
Neither does the council – Deniz adds that ‘it’s down to us to scrub away the urine’.
‘There has been a dry cleaners on this site since just after the war. People come in and tell me what it was like in the old days, how they loved coming to the arcade as kids when there was a model shop and an Italian cafe and a little art gallery.
‘Now we’re closing down one by one. A few weeks ago it was the bridal dress shop and then the haberdashery. Previously it was the barber’s shop and the cafe. It’s tragic really.’
Deniz previously supported the Tories but says that broken promises have ‘turned me into a Reform man’.
We are joined by Michael Sales, 67, who tells me of his abstract art exhibition at a nearby cafe. ‘It’s been on a month but I’ve only sold one. People just don’t have the money any more.’
Born and bred in Croydon, Michael has watched the town decline with growing anger. He offers to show me around.
Once Croydon was famed for its range, and quality, of shops, and he fondly recalls being taken to Grants department store on the High Street, known as the ‘Harrods of South London’, by his mother.
Michael Sales fondly recalls being taken to Grants department store on the High Street, known as the ‘Harrods of South London’, by his mother. Now it’s long been closed
Born and bred in Croydon, Michael has watched the town decline with growing anger
Long since gone, Michael points to its grand facade, a slice of Victoriana, with stained glass windows and words such as ‘Gloves’ and ‘Lace’ carved into its frontage. Beneath it, a chain Caribbean restaurant stands empty, its windows dusty and plastered with posters. ‘It really is a ghost town,’ says Michael. ‘There’s nothing here.’
A stroll around the nearby Whitgift shopping centre underlines his point. It’s deserted with only a handful of shops remaining.
Speak to anyone here and soon the subject of the council’s debt mountain will crop up. Both Conservatives and Labour acknowledge that the central government will need to step in to renegotiate Croydon’s debt. Meanwhile, Westminster has sent in commissioners to monitor the council’s governance.
Returning to St George’s Walk, we encounter something that does uplift spirits. In Park Hill park and other green spaces, the National Gallery has ‘partnered with Croydon Council’ to reproduce 30 life-size paintings, including a Renoir and a Caravaggio. They hang on railings, thankfully undisturbed by vandals.
‘Nice, aren’t they?’ says an elderly woman called Ada. ‘But it’s a case of fur coat and no knickers if you ask me. They want to sort out the rest of the town first.’
Back at St George’s Walk, one shop, however, does seem to be doing well. It sells and repairs e-bikes and scooters, considered by many to be the scourge of our times. ‘How’s business?’ I ask the owner, Dowell Virginie. ‘Booming,’ he replies with a grin.
Of course it is.
