Alas, poor Mr. Patel. If he could see his shop now he would turn in his grave. When we first moved here in 1982, Mr. Patel’s was our nearest corner shop and many was the evening I would walk 100 yards down the road to buy a can of Carlsberg Special Brew to take the edge off. He and I would discuss a test match with India, who if playing, would be on the radio for the duration of the game. An enterprising chap, he was one of the first to set up video rentals, but this was not enough to secure a long and happy life. He moved on to that big cash and carry in the sky about 20 years ago and bit by painful bit the shop has drifted into dereliction. A compulsory purchase order was slapped on it before Christmas and it’s up for auction on 31st April with outline planning permission for a four bed house. A big job for somebody.
14 comments:
I remember this shop pre-Mr.Patel. It had 'Kimberley Ales' on the fascia panels. I knew a girl called Kimberley once. Wish she'd read this and tell me where she hid my chopsticks.
He still owes me 6d deposit for the (empty) bottle of Bass Brown Ale I returned there in 1972.....if you go to the auction and claim it, I'll go 50-50 with you....
Ron Combo may remember a 'Miss Kimberley' we were entertained by at a Gentlemans Bird Watching evening in about 1975. He looked long and hard for your chopsticks Peter, but alas, did not retrieve them.
I recall nearly stuffing a brand-new 325i into that shop after an entertaining evening spent in the company of the Intrepid Explorer and some of his Clazzy Park commie mates. From the little I remember I ended up about three inches from the door. I imagine the 30ft of skid marks may well still be in evidence on the asphalt; the other ones were taken care of by Daz. And the less said about Miss Kimberley, the better.
Its time I visited Leicester...I've never actually been there ...it looks like the kind of place where you could still get a packet of Spangles and a sherbert dip in the original packets
I seem to remember from my days on a sheepfarm in Bangaloo Springs that "a sherbert dip in the packets" is a disgusting piece of Australian slang, and refers to something very painful for the recipient.
Oh Camilla stop! And stop it now! I may shoot my Spangles all over my napkin.
What were your favourite Spangles? Mine were the Old Fashioned flavours in a black packet. And Sherbet Dib-Dabs have always had a long and awkward history as a sex aid. Apparently.
It wasn't so much the Spangles, more the lovely starry packaging.
I'm a bit of a cakes man myself. When you have the urge to chew on a nice Bakewell Tart, it's irresistable.
I like getting stuck into a good Battenburg myself. Do you, like me, eat the two cubes of yellow sponge first, then the pink, saving the marzipan for last?
Anyway Chaps, Mr Patel's will have changed hands last week as the auction was on 30th April. Maybe it will be a cake shop. Make mine a chocolate eclair.
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