We started with a market square full of argument and end in prison vaults full of shoes. That feels about right for Northampton: a town where working life moved in public, then hid itself inside buildings, and finally had to be collected before anyone thought to honour it properly. What stays with me is not one factory or one famous brand, but the chain of hands - cutting, stitching, pulling, polishing - and the fact that those hands also voted, marched, sang, prayed, drank on Mondays, and bought tickets for the show when the week was done. Thanks for walking with me. If you want, stay here with the museum a while; Northampton’s workers have more to say than any tour can manage.
Stop 14 of 14
