This is a guest post written by Aylesbury resident Nancy Purcell
Twenty years is a long time to live anywhere, long enough to see shop fronts change hands three times, long enough to develop strong opinions about the best route to avoid the Tring Road at rush hour, and definitely long enough to feel a strange sense of pride when the market square Christmas lights go up.
Aylesbury has been home through different phases of life, different jobs, different neighbours, and more trips to the Waterside Theatre than initially expected.
It is not perfect, and anyone who says it is probably moved here last week, but it has a character that grows on you in a slow, reassuring way.
The town centre, familiar and frustrating in equal measure
The first thing that still stands out is how the centre manages to be both convenient and slightly chaotic at the same time.
Hale Leys on a Saturday can feel like the entire county has decided to meet there for a casual wander, and yet on a damp Tuesday morning it has the calm of a place catching its breath. The mix of big names and independent shops has shifted over the years, with some closures that genuinely stung. The old favourites disappearing felt personal, like losing a neighbour who had always nodded hello.
Friars Square has had its ups and downs, but there is something comforting about knowing exactly where everything is.
The smell of coffee drifting from the cafés near Market Square, the queue outside the bakery that seems to exist regardless of the weather, the buskers who appear just when the day needs a bit of life, all of it creates a rhythm that becomes second nature. It is not glamorous, and it does not try to be, and that is part of its charm.
The food, better than outsiders expect
People who have never spent time here tend to underestimate the food scene, which is a mistake. There are places that have been quietly serving excellent meals for years, the kind where the staff recognise returning faces and ask if the usual is on the cards.
The cafés tucked just off the main streets do breakfasts that could fix almost anything, and the takeaway options cover everything from a proper Friday night curry to a late kebab after a show at the theatre.
There is also a certain joy in discovering a new spot that has opened without much fuss. One month it is an empty unit, the next it is a bakery with a window full of pastries that make walking past impossible. That sense of small scale change keeps the town feeling alive.
Green spaces that quietly do the heavy lifting
One of the biggest reasons Aylesbury has remained such a comfortable place to live is the access to green space. It takes very little time to go from a busy road to somewhere that feels genuinely peaceful.
The canal paths are perfect for a long walk when the day needs clearing, and the parks become social hubs in the summer, full of families, dogs, and people pretending they are going to start jogging regularly.
Bedgrove Park has hosted countless casual meet ups and slow Sunday afternoons. The simple fact that the Chiltern Hills are a short drive away means there is always an escape route when the town starts to feel a bit too familiar. That balance between town and countryside is something that never loses its value.
The commute, a relationship built on patience
The train into London has been both a blessing and a test of character. On a good day it is straightforward, a chance to sit with a coffee and watch the landscape shift from fields to suburbs. On a bad day it becomes a masterclass in delayed announcements and shared sighs from a carriage full of commuters.
Still, the connection to the capital is one of the town’s greatest strengths, making it possible to work in the city while coming home to somewhere that feels calmer and more grounded.
Driving across town at peak times is a different story, and anyone who has attempted to cross from one side to the other at school pickup time will understand the particular kind of patience it requires. Over time, secret routes become second nature, and there is a quiet satisfaction in knowing how to avoid the worst of it.
A community that reveals itself slowly
What truly defines Aylesbury after two decades is the sense of community that is not immediately obvious. It is in the small conversations at the market, the familiar faces at the gym, the neighbours who take in parcels without being asked. It is in the local events that bring people together, from theatre productions to seasonal fairs that somehow run smoothly every year.
There is also a strong pride in the town’s history, from its connection to music and performance to the buildings that have stood through every change. Living here for this long means recognising those layers, understanding that the place is more than its current shop lineup or traffic issues.
The honest truth
After twenty years, the real feeling about Aylesbury is one of steady affection.
It is not a place that tries to impress at first glance, and it does not have the dramatic skyline or constant buzz of a city.
What it offers instead is reliability, familiarity, and a surprising number of good days that arrive without much effort.
There are moments of frustration, of course.
There always are when somewhere becomes home. But there are also the small, perfect experiences that only happen because of the time spent here, the sense of knowing exactly where to go for a quiet walk, which café will have a table in the corner, which street looks best when the leaves start to turn.
Living in Aylesbury for twenty years has not been about dramatic change or grand revelations. It has been about watching a place evolve while life happens alongside it. And that, more than anything, is why it still feels like the right place to be.