Anyway, the shop is, I discover after 30 years, named Link Fisheries. The same family have run the place since it opened in 1978. The mother, who does not seem to have aged a day in thirty years, is retired but was there today. The two daughters run it, the one who served me today has, er, filled out a bit. The father is now retired and in poor health.
During Gulf War 1 they closed for a while. To look at the place with it's St George Crosses and Union Flags dotted about you'd not suspect the family runing it were from Iraq. I chatted some to one daughter and the mother and they told me they had resisted the tempation to start selling kebabs; they wanted to keep their place a traditional fish and chip shop. And that is what they've done. The wood panelling on the walls, the counter and whatever you call the batter-dip-pits and heaters are the same ones I remeber from when I was a kid. They have an old Pepsi clock-come-menu-light-box-thing on the wall above the doorway to the back of the shop. Very retro, but only because it's been there so bloody long. I suspect they are running out of letters to display upon it. I find it a little ironic that the Middle Eastern owners have dug their heals in so deeply to resist expanding into selling Middle Eastern food.
But this is the best bit. As I sat waiting for my large cod and chips the daughter looked over at me and asked "do I know you?" To which I replied "I used to come in here when I was a kid." The mother came out and we had a good chat. They remember me, my bro, my mum and dad. They were genuinely concerned to hear about dad's failing health and asked me to pass on my best wishes. Here's the thing; I'd probably not set foot inside that shop for 10 years.
These are the places we need to cherish and to protect. If you discover a place like this keep going back there. Tell your mates about it.
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