Rich Blake

A place to reflect on how I'm learning to live with arthritis, my experience leading high performing teams and everything else in between.

What's with all of the missing park benches?

14 February 2026

These are my thoughts about the mystery of two disappearing park benches this winter.

I’ve bothered to write about it because changes to physical infrastructure affect my recovery and the ‘quality of experience’ I have when out and about.

Right now, a good supply of public benches matters to me more than almost anything else in the built environment of my local town.

I use them as physical distance markers in my recovery. If I’m starting to flag, or the pain spikes, I know there’ll usually be somewhere to sit a known distance away. I just need to get there.

That reliability is part of what I need to reduce the many mental hurdles that happen when I think: ‘I need to get out because it’s good for me… but also I’m in pain right now, so why don’t I just stay in?’

Getting out and about

Arthritis UK say that getting out and about, rather than over-resting, is one of the best ways to manage arthritis day to day.

At first it feels counter-intuitive. You’d think resting what hurts is best, but in reality, being active reduces pain, builds muscle and manages symptoms. Even during flare-ups.

It isn’t easy, especially at my weight. But I’ve been trying. I’m walking more than I ever have before and I’m seeing the benefits.

That only works if I can trust the route: A quarter-mile stretch quietly turns into half a mile when a bench disappears. What used to be a manageable distance becomes a gamble.

Benches are the kind of public service you barely notice. I certainly didn’t. They were somewhere between a lamppost and a flower bed in my mental model of “things the council deals with”.

Now they’re the difference between going further and turning back.

Who designs a town?

In Hertford there are three councils: county, district and town. Roads are with one, pavements with another and parks somewhere else. Everyone manages their slice. No one designs the whole experience.

That’s not a criticism. It’s just how it shakes out of the budget spreadsheet somewhere up the chain.

But when something small disappears (like a bench) it reveals the gap between managing assets and designing places that are accessible for everyone.

Case one: there’s been a murder!

My recovery route is the Hertford to Ware riverside circular walk. It’s flat, paved and, crucially, well supplied with benches.

I can now do about a quarter of it. Four or five months ago I couldn’t even walk across my own flat.

About halfway through my current route sits a canal lock keeper’s house and a public bench donated by the Inland Waterways Association. The excellent Open Benches website has it listed from 9 August 2025.

One Sunday morning in January I turned the corner, imagining what it might be like to live in that lock keeper’s house… And I found the bench I needed had been decapitated!

Its wooden slats were gone. The metal frame was wrapped in orange netting. It looked to me like a murder scene.

The remains of a bench with no slats, covered in orange safety netting.

At the time it felt like a disaster in the moment to me and I missed the poster attached. Instead, I was running through a mental checklist of my options.

My options were:

  • walk further down a muddy path in the wrong direction (and risk a slip or a fall)
  • turn back early and recover at the last bench i passed
  • push myself and go to the next one, without planning for it

A month later, and it’s still like this today. I’ve now adjusted my journey to compensate, and finally noticed the sign was better positioned.

A poster explaining the bench is being repainted by a local artist. It says: This bench is getting a MAKEOVER! We are busy preparing this bench to be painted by a local artist - although you might be eager to take a peek, please dont remove the covering protecting the bench in the meantime. We are greatful for your cooperatiion - if you have any queries please contact communications@eastherts.gov.uk

Planning around “Soon™”

I’m genuinely pleased something nice is being created by a talented local artist. I’ve looked at their other work and it’s beautiful. I’m glad they got the funding and the opportunity to make Hertford a little nicer.

And I also know that everyone in public service is doing the best job they can, even if the outcome isn’t ideal. The intention is good. The execution could just be better.

The sign says “we are busy preparing this bench”. That’s nice. But it doesn’t say when it will return.

When you remove something people rely on, clear communication becomes a necessary part of the service.

If it said “Back in March”, I’d adjust my route and get on with my life. Instead, I’m left planning around “Soon™” and it’s already been a month. Who knows when it’ll be back. According to Blizzard Inc, “Soon ™” could be anywhere between now, and the end of time..

Tell that to my knee when it’s screaming at me.

Aesthetics versus use

There are other benches nearby, anyone can easily get to them. That’s probably the assumption. And technically, that’s true.

There’s one a few hundred metres away. But it’s 1) down a muddy path and 2) on the wrong side of the canal for my route. The next is about a quarter of a mile away.

But proximity isn’t the same as reliability. The whole point of infrastructure is predictability. A bench isn’t decoration. My user need is that I need a place to rest, not that the place needs to look nice.

I’m left wondering if this was the right time of year, or if there was a different way to deliver this nice idea.

Case two: a kidnapping at Hertford Castle

The canal bench isn’t alone.

Another bench at Hertford Castle has been missing for months.

No sign. No explanation. Just a suspiciously placed small bush and a moss-covered base where it used to sit. Is this the outdoor version of sweeping something under the carpet?

I’m fairly sure we’ll never see a replacement here. It’s been months. Perhaps the other two benches nearby (just a few metres away) are considered enough. Maybe it’s the budget. Maybe it’s on a list somewhere. But with no communication, who knows.

Perhaps I should commission Zoë Bread to create a “missing bench” milk carton poster for the spot.

That’s how change happens these days, right?