The big party conferences are strange beasts.

Every autumn thousands of party activists, members and MPs gather in whichever city has a big enough conference venue and enough accommodation to house everyone over four days.

A whole section of town will be fenced off and patrolled by hundreds of policemen and women. Snipers and other gunmen sit on the roofs around the venue to protect against attacks.


There will be big set piece speeches watched by thousands, small fringe events where only a handful of people turn up, countless lobbyists and a full programme of events. People come to conference for very different reasons and seeking different experiences.

Some come to watch the big speeches, some come to network and meet new people, some to advance political careers and some come as an almost alternative holiday.

The ‘holidayers’ tend to drink far too much cheap wine and miss most of the events the next day, only rising in time to do the whole thing again the next night.


Outside of the main hall there are around 50-60 stands and lobbying groups looking to get new business or exert influence on politicians.

The last time I attended a conference I was a party member, and approached a stand promoting their cause to try and discuss an issue I was genuinely interested in and entered into conversation with a very un-enthusiastic individual.

It was very obvious the stall holder had no interest in speaking to me whatsoever.

After about two minutes a sitting MP came up behind me, and the stall holder literally pushed me to one side to speak to him.


Yesterday, as a new MP, I walked past the same stall and the same stall holder looked up, opened his arms wide and said with the biggest smile he could: ‘Luke! So great to see you, I was delighted that you became an MP.

It would be so perfect if we could meet up to talk later.’ I smiled and took his card, making a mental note never to call him. I have never liked that side of politics.


Some of the fringe events can be useful and informative, on Monday I spent an afternoon discussing what more can be done to ensure good standards of palliative care are being provided and what more the government can do to help tackle dementia.

On Tuesday I spent the morning discussing the proposed Sunday trading hour’s changes and the devolution of business rates with the British Retail Consortium.

On Tuesday evening I had a trying moment, after a long day I left the secure zone to start walking back to my hotel, without realising that my pass showing I was an MP was still hanging around my neck.

I was followed back to my hotel by a man in a ‘stop the chop’ T-shirt who tried to persuade me to make banning circumcision my mission in Parliament. I politely declined and was pleased to get into the hotel.


Overall, conferences can be informative, promote lively discussion and debate, are a great way to mobilise decision makers and the party activists get a lot out of it, but I find that in the end, the best part is always coming home.