- Lewesians
- Lewes-IQ
- Oblong vs Circular Salad Bars
- 'Carlos'
- 'Out-of-towner(s)'
Greetings traveler,
Prologue
For those of you who are not familiar with the dream-like paradise on Earth that is Lewes, Sussex then let me take you by the hand and lead you through a brief, but highly accurate, history of settlement in this geographical location: like years and years ago, some beardy tribesman (probably clothed in animal hide) decided that he didn't much get a thrill from kipping down in his cave on the hillside, so on the banks of the sacred River Ouse he built a hut. Didn't take him too long to realise that he'd just found himself a ruddy garden of Eden, and other beardy cavemen and cavewomen jumped on the band wagon and joined in with gusto. No internet virals back then, just word mouth, and real viral diseases. Although technologies may have changed, this essential process has been replicating itself for the intervening millennia, until the historical epoch that concerns us, dear traveller.
Modern history in Lewes can usefully be divided into three distinct periods: Safeway, Morrison's and Waitrose, or 'Complication, Crisis and Resolution'. The demands of the modern world meant that a supermarket had to be built, but unfortunately Safeway was all we got. Many now reflect on the Safeway days with melancholic nostalgia, but the coming of Morrison's cannot be remembered with as much brightness. In fact, calling upon the scarring images of that garish yellow lettering in our beautiful town causes sweats, nervous muttering and a slight dry heave. Not that I myself have any major beef with the chain itself. During my 'wilderness years' up in 'the North', I developed a great fondness for Morrison's, particularly the Kirkstall branch. But something wasn't quite right with having it in Lewes. The Lay-Lines converged in such a way as to cause a sort of shamanic void, and a black cloud hang over the town. Needless to say it didn't last long, the Lewesians voted with their feet as they always do, and our deliverance from this particular circle of hell came in the form of Waitrose. (Those with a high Lewes-IQ amongst you will have mentioned the lack of mention of Tesco from this potted history. Cease digestion, this is not for you.)
And so to the task at hand...
Overview
I wanted to start with the branch closest to my heart, and here it is. The view you can see above is looking from the bike parking bay (seen at the bottom of the frame). My bike, 'Carlos' (as in Carlos the Jackal, cos when me and him be rolling we're like flipping assassins. On my journey, he will be my stead), is just visible amongst the mess of locked up bikes.
(an aside: at this point some of you may have noticed that I am using some sub-headings in my prose. Please do. not be under the misinterpretation that these headings will appear regularly in subsequent postings. They won't. I may not even use headings at all in subsequent posts. I just started doing it in this one, and now I am temporarily committed to them, but I'm a fickle little pickle me)
Location and access
Well, it's in Lewes obviously. But it really is in Lewes though. Right bang in the center of the action. Lewes is famous (in part) for it's hilly topographical texture, and those averse to striding heroically up and down the sharp reliefs will be reassured to know that the Waitrose lies on land of minimal elevation above sea level.
If you are arriving on a mode of transport possessing wheels (either the two wheeled kind I favor, or the four-wheeled Thatcher-mobiles the majority seem to covet with such gusto) then you'll be in for a shock. Parking is minimal, and the bike parking particularly seems to have been designed by someone who either has an ideological hatred or psychopathic disregard for bicycles.
Major Features (Physical)
It's got all the major elemental foundations of a good Waitrose: Bakery and Patisserie, Butcher, Fish, Houmous etc. The Salad Bar is circular, which initially feel more intuitive to the oblong ones you often find. Salad is a cyclical phenomenon really, and one likes to make a couple of revolutions around the Bar to make sure all options have been considered. Perusing an Oblong Salad Bar often results in a back and forth motion, reminiscent of spectating a tennis match (I assume, never been). The Oblong Bar also restricts flow of customers, due to having to move both ways along a single vector. Instead of floating in orbits around the Bar like an electron circling the nucleus of an atom, you are forced to dart from side to side. It's not natural. For all the upsides of the Atomic Salad Bar Model there is a major downside; it's not unheard of to see confused old ladies make many more revolutions around the circular bar than they need to, denied the punctuation points of the oblong bar to remind them that they must continue their shop. It's a double edged sword, this is true, but the lesser of two evils none-the-less. Further discussion on this topic will occur in subsequent posts. I need more time (damn you).
There is a standard sized Patisserie counter too. A major set back of this is that it is often under the jurisdiction of a member of staff also charged with the 'Cheese' counter duties. Corporate 'downsizing' or 'streamlining' a likely cause. Sometimes you can end up waiting for quite sometime before you are noticed and dealt with, allowing too much opportunity to reconsider your purile desire for a liddle slice of cake.
Other than these two it's a standard set up of aisles. The Freezer department is on the small side, but then this is true of most Waitrose(s). It's not really the vibe is it? Another notable absence is 'Self-scan' tills. These are controversial additions to any supermarket, and Waitrose on the whole seems to have installed them in very few of it's branches nationwide (they do exist though). Lewesians still actually appreciate other human beings you see, we're not tired of engaging our linguistic and social capacities quite yet.
Major Features (Non-physical/Phenomenological/Anecdotal)
Perhaps the best and worst time to visit the Lewes Waitrose is on the 5th of November or on one of the preceding days. Warning: it'll be busy. There is a palpable air of anticipation for the revelries in the town that permeates into the Waitrose, as the house-wives (with which Lewes is well furnished) hurriedly accumulate their supplies for all the 'out-of-towners' they have invited down from lesser places. These temporary parasites to proceedings may be involved in some shallow way with the events, but merely look on, carrying a mask of frivolous enjoyment, only just obscuring their smug, judgmental voyeurism of what they fail to recognise as truly profound non-conformity. As they watch the streets be taken over by fire and noise, feeling the bite of heavy smoke in their nostrils they think to themselves "I've read such interesting things about this place, and I can stomach the Harvey's Ale, but we would never be so irresponsible as to allow our precious children to grow up in a town that does this!". You're children will grow up without a subversive bone in their body, and will be in a state of existential poverty because of it. You may refuse to let them wear branded clothing, or take them on cultural birthday trips rather than a day at Laser Quest, but we burn and explode stuff, and the children are made to watch. Whilst their under-developed eyes are streaming, half choked to and with unbearable ringing in the ears, they feel the love.
Bonfire night aside, I once saw Sean Locke in the Lewes Waitrose. I actually first recognised a comedian by the name of Phil Kay, who is much less famous, but really very funny indeed. He was then tapped on the shoulder by another man, who on closer inspection (I was very discreet in my inspection) turned out to be Mr Locke. It seems they know each other from the circuit. "What a small world" we all thought. I have since seen Phil Kay in the Waitrose a number of times since, and have concluded that he must live locally. Welcome aboard Phil!
To Conclude
It's a medium-sized affair at the Lewes Waitrose, but it's got character alright. It is an intrinsic part of the fabric of the town, and with plans for expansion on the horizon (Waitrose get bigger, house-wives stay happeeee!) there's plenty to get that appetite whet and keep it whetted for sometime to come. It was a logical starting point for the Task, but the Task has just begun...
