Did they wait for us to go? Escaping Deal more than 20 years ago & it was if the entire 30,000 population were just holding back, checking to make sure we had finally got onto the Bilbao-bound ferry at Southampton, then with an almost obscene haste and a swift about-turn, immediately rolling out new delis, specialist butchers, excellent restaurants — The Frog & Scot, Eva’s, Le Pinardier, the ‘artisanal’ Black Pig Butcher, 4th generation fishmongers, Jenkins & Son (still there), No Name Cheese, even The Ox Tale butchers in my old village of Kingsdown — all the while giving the place a well needed wipe-down, over Farrow & Ball coated sheens with a huge dose of gentrification medicine (for some, hard) swallowed in readiness for the incoming ‘London Crowd’.
And obviously, to piss us off as well, of course…
Back when I was a teenager in Deal, the now feted The Rose (Hotel) was a rotting tooth in the jawline of the high street, a diseased malevolent crow looming over the pavement, almost an ante-chamber for the old graveyard next to it, window frames rotting, maybe not the worst pub in the area, certainly the scuzziest.
Stepping inside, into the dingy, ill-lit, fetid interior, a miasma of smoke, cigarette & dope, BO, old man farts and over-used cooking oil, stoppering your nostrils, feet quick-sanded almost ankle deep into the beer and other — let them be nameless — fluids’ soaked carpets. If The Rose was your regular hang-out, you didn’t have much farther to fall…
It’s changed a little now…
A short story…
The problem with buying dope from Johnny, was that he was the one who decided when he’d turn up. Lou’s “Heroin” lyrics, spot on. I’d called him earlier in the day to get a couple of bags for the weekend; he’d said 5pm at The Rose and now it was already after 6 and no sign of him. I was getting more than a little pissed, I’d not eaten all day, had been busy with the boat and hadn’t come ashore until just after 4.30. Bringing the boat up the beach took me fully 15 minutes, so I was out of breath by the time I ran into the pub.
He wasn’t there. He’s still not here. And the problem with talking with a fucking psycho like Johnny is that you can’t piss him off by asking him where he is, not without running the risk of him kicking off on you. I’d seen it happen, some poor innocent who’d crossed his path, got in his way by mistake, with no intent to do anything other to walk up to the bar, only to have Noakes, his game interrupted, smash a pool cue over his shoulders, luckily missing his head, but enough to drop the bloke to the floor.
No one intervened, they just stared into their beer, “no, honest office, we saw nothin'” looks, hoping that Johnny wouldn’t switch focus to them, the unknown punter sensibly doggo there until Johnny’s attention was distracted, then slowly getting to his feet, backing out of the pub and then — I swear I could see him — sprinting down the high street as fast as he could. Rumour was that Johnny had a sawn-off stashed safe by the reluctant landlord, so I for one wasn’t going on cross him. Except where was the fucker? I needed him…
Then, you could ‘dine’ on a bag of peanuts or crisps, no foodie destination this, now their menu…
…co-authored by & so, so obviously of, Nuno Mendes…
…he, of (ex-)Chiltern Firehouse fame
…tells you all you need to know about how the old town has mutated, metamorphosed into a destination rather than the end of the line, the edge of the coast, the edge of the county and country. I read somewhere that at one point, Deal was supposed to have more pubs per head of population than anywhere else in the country. Now, I’m guessing the number of AirBnB ’boutique’ get-away-to-the-seaside properties far, far out number those few remaining boozers. Progress, of a sort. The Rose front-bar then was also where you could be sure to find the town’s friendly local (albeit Glaswegian Scot) professional shoplifter, happy to ‘shop’ to order for you.
Fancy a new suit Chris? Can get you one from Burton’s if you like? Will nae cost you a lot.
We’re waiting for the same tidal wave of gentrification to wash over Huntingdon. Or do we have to move again?
It’s likely that the Ouse flood will take it before then…
And finally? A lovely scholarly piece by Kenneth Ruddle of the Research Centre for Environment and Rural Development & Ishige Naomichi
on fish sauce in SE Asia. Well worth a read & the references will keep you busy for days.
[pdf-embedder url=”https://salutethepig.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/On-the-origin-diffusion-and-cultural-context-of-fermented-fish-products-in-Southeast-Asia.pdf”]