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- Mar 28, 2015
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I set off this morning on a walk to one of my favourite shops in the seaside town of Bognor Regis, West Sussex where I live. It's one of my favourites because it's the only purveyor of penknives in the area. Strolling along the leafy, tree-lined streets towards my destination on this most beautiful of mornings, looking around at the style of the houses made me feel as though I was back in the 1930's when these, now not untroubled, streets were first laid out. Moving on I popped into a second-hand furniture shop advertising 'House Clearances'. Asking, as I always do, if there were any old penknives I was quickly told by the proprietor that he wasn't allowed to sell them and that whenever he does come across them they are dutifully disposed of. I suggested that perhaps in the future he might dispose of them in my direction and he eagerly entered my name and number into his book of punters. leaving I quipped that, as he wasn't allowed to sell them, I would expect them for nothing and left without waiting for a reply.
Nothing was to spoil this wonderful morning but, to my horror, upon arriving at my destination I found the shop 'Closed'!!, but reading the sign further I saw that they were indeed open on Saturdays but not until 10.30. Just enough time then to indulge another of my passions at the music shop down the road, vintage guitars. There where a few there to drool over but all way above my budget, so I explained to the shopkeeper that if only the 1969 Fender Mustang bass were a 1968, that being the year of my birth, then I would gladly have given him the thousand pounds asking price and left without wasting any more of his time.
I got back to the army surplus store to find one of it's owners just arriving on a rather nice vintage pedal cycle. The shop is owned by two characterful brothers who, quirky in the nicest possible way, I have never seen in anything other than full army regalia. Even on this most humid of days the shop-keeper was fully decked out in uniform, thick jumper and overcoat the lot. The shop itself is equally unusual and, as was explained to me by my friendly host, was once part of the dairy belonging to the farmhouse behind the shop: visible in the photo below. Packed with absolutely everything you might expect to find in a shop of this nature, it is largely patronised by the local shooting fraternity. I headed straight for my favourite area where the penknife display cabinet is to be found. The shop sells new and second-hand knives and I've purchased a few interesting ones from here in the past including an original Victorinox GAK (now out of production I understand), but today I decided on a nice looking Remington camping knife which, though made in China, looked robust and of good quality. Before leaving I asked the shop-keeper if he minded if I took a couple of pictures for a certain forum I posted on and left a happy man.
On the way home, this time taking a short-cut, I examined the Remington briefly, for fear that someone might notice a man in the graveyard with a knife and raise the alarm, and confirmed the quality of my purchase: great fit and finish with a real functional feel. returning the rest of the way home through a waking community still reeling from last weekend's tragic disaster at the Shoreham air-show, but one clearly beginning to bounce back and make the most of a rare sunny summers day, It occurred to me what a great and now sadly rare experience it is to actually go to a shop to buy something, as opposed to simply ordering it on-line and having no actual engagement with anyone. How lucky we are also to still have such shops and what a shame it would be if we were to lose them al-together. I returned home, mission accomplished with a real sense of satisfaction. So ended a perfect morning.
[
Untitled by Mark Saunders, on Flickr
Untitled by Mark Saunders, on Flickr
Untitled by Mark Saunders, on Flickr
Nothing was to spoil this wonderful morning but, to my horror, upon arriving at my destination I found the shop 'Closed'!!, but reading the sign further I saw that they were indeed open on Saturdays but not until 10.30. Just enough time then to indulge another of my passions at the music shop down the road, vintage guitars. There where a few there to drool over but all way above my budget, so I explained to the shopkeeper that if only the 1969 Fender Mustang bass were a 1968, that being the year of my birth, then I would gladly have given him the thousand pounds asking price and left without wasting any more of his time.
I got back to the army surplus store to find one of it's owners just arriving on a rather nice vintage pedal cycle. The shop is owned by two characterful brothers who, quirky in the nicest possible way, I have never seen in anything other than full army regalia. Even on this most humid of days the shop-keeper was fully decked out in uniform, thick jumper and overcoat the lot. The shop itself is equally unusual and, as was explained to me by my friendly host, was once part of the dairy belonging to the farmhouse behind the shop: visible in the photo below. Packed with absolutely everything you might expect to find in a shop of this nature, it is largely patronised by the local shooting fraternity. I headed straight for my favourite area where the penknife display cabinet is to be found. The shop sells new and second-hand knives and I've purchased a few interesting ones from here in the past including an original Victorinox GAK (now out of production I understand), but today I decided on a nice looking Remington camping knife which, though made in China, looked robust and of good quality. Before leaving I asked the shop-keeper if he minded if I took a couple of pictures for a certain forum I posted on and left a happy man.
On the way home, this time taking a short-cut, I examined the Remington briefly, for fear that someone might notice a man in the graveyard with a knife and raise the alarm, and confirmed the quality of my purchase: great fit and finish with a real functional feel. returning the rest of the way home through a waking community still reeling from last weekend's tragic disaster at the Shoreham air-show, but one clearly beginning to bounce back and make the most of a rare sunny summers day, It occurred to me what a great and now sadly rare experience it is to actually go to a shop to buy something, as opposed to simply ordering it on-line and having no actual engagement with anyone. How lucky we are also to still have such shops and what a shame it would be if we were to lose them al-together. I returned home, mission accomplished with a real sense of satisfaction. So ended a perfect morning.
[
Untitled by Mark Saunders, on FlickrUntitled by Mark Saunders, on FlickrUntitled by Mark Saunders, on Flickr
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