Building our community bit by bit
Also, the many meanings of the word 'Rock'
On Monday I walked the whole 5 minutes to Shanklin high street to pick up some odds and ends. There was a cold wind, but a sunny sky. The sun has come up in the sky dramatically since we left to go to California three weeks ago, and I was enjoying the increased warmth and brightness as a result of the higher elevation of the sun.
Our back garden is also in full sun now, when there is sun, and even though it is still chilly, the plants are starting to wake up a bit after the months of especially cold weather. We are still learning when and where the sun hits the garden, and if there are any hidden plants coming up as we have only been in this house since August. Our plum tree is blossoming, and a little willow has the furry growth that alludes to the name pussy willow so perfectly.
On Sunday (the day before) we had gone to one of our favourite beachside cafes for a late breakfast. During the winter and early spring off-peak season, this is more of a local’s cafe, as you have to walk a minimum of either ½ mile along the esplanade from neighbouring towns, or down a steep set of walkways and stairs from the clifftop above. They have live music now and again, fabulous and healthy food, and a generally relaxed and welcoming vibe. All in addition to a beachside location with great views along the coast, and sunny tables to enjoy the view.
We have been trying new foods every time we go to suss out our favourites, and have yet to be disappointed. We’ve had burgers, squid, smoothies, salads, eggs, all kinds of hot drinks and clever cocktails, and everything has been delicious. I am particularly fussy about how my eggs are cooked, and the chefs have accommodated my tastes graciously.
The staff in particular are friendly and cheerful and have done a great job of explaining new foods to me. On a previous outing by myself, I asked what a scone-looking pastry was, and they said ‘rock-cake’. I explained I had never heard of that before, what did it taste like and what were the ingredients? The server thought for a moment, and asked the chef to explain. He gave me the ingredients, and described a rougher scone-like pastry, and then the server interrupted and said, “it is kind of like a scone but from the dodgy end of town”, which turns out to be a brilliant description! Rock-cakes are similar to a slightly coarse and rough scone, but with loads of flavour, maybe a tiny bit sweeter, and quite satisfying.
But back to my wander into the high street. I took care of my errands and was sorry to see the my favourite deli-butcher shop was closed on a Monday; I had forgotten. I didn’t need anything there, but wanted to say hello to my new acquaintance who runs the shop. She had gone on her family holiday the week before we left on ours, so I wanted to pop in to say hello and see how she was. I don’t know too many people here yet, so felt the need to reconnect after our time away.
I went on to the local grocery shop to pick up something for dinner, and on my way out, my friend from the deli was just walking in. We both stopped and said hello! She even remembered my name and said “you’re back”!
Wow! I felt like that line from the end of the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, which says something like “his heart grew three sizes that day”. I felt like that. I was known, and seen! It was amazing, and I had a big ‘ole grin on my face, or least I imagined I did.
Later that afternoon, when Pete and I took our daily walk, we were chattering as we walked along the esplanade and coming up towards us was one of the owners of our favourite cafe. We were quite a long way from the cafe, on the other side of one of the towns, but she grinned as she saw us and said hello as if to old friends as we passed.
Well, imagine being recognised twice in one day! It was quite a surprise and made us feel at home after our travels.
When we lived in Plymouth, after a few years I could walk through the Barbican neighbourhood, a popular and busy area with lots of shops and tourist traffic, and wave to owners of several shops that I had come to know. It was a special feeling that made me feel I was part of the local village. Not a visitor, but a local. It was also a benchmark to myself that after several years, I was really at home.
Inch by inch, smile by smile, we are beginning to embed here on the Island, in our little village of Shanklin. We are starting to be known to others, as we are also getting to know our neighbours, in the broadest sense. We have a regular haircutters around the corner, and a doctors surgery/office. We go back to the same stores and cafes so we can recognise and be recognised by the owners. It takes time, and patience, and all those magical short interactions that build up slowly to create connections and bonds.
Maybe, just maybe, we are starting to belong in this place now.
What about you? What makes your home neighbourhood feel like home to you? Do you know the people who work in the shops? Does that matter to you? What else makes your place feel like home to you?
If you come to Shanklin, please visit these wonderful places I mentioned above:
Tradewinds Beach Cafe: 25 Cliff Path, Sandown. Isle of Wight https://instagram.com/tradewindsbeachcafe
It’s About Thyme: 22 Regent Street, Shanklin. Isle of Wight https://www.itsaboutthyme.co.uk/ https://instagram.com/its_about_thyme_shanklin
As always, many thanks for reading!
xx Sabrina
Lovely, Sabrina. When I lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, I felt that kinship of neighborhood, even in a huge bustling city. I had a favorite cafe, La Rosita de Broadway, where I would practice my Spanish (to Sydney’s embarrassment). I always asked how business was, worrying these small shops were being swallowed up by developers. The staff was always so appreciative of my interest, and were honored that I spoke their language.
What a lovely homecoming post, Sabrina! And it's lovely to learn more about a place that's becoming more familiar to me, too, over successive visits to the island - we were on the Sandown-Shanklin Revetment back in August!
When I first moved to the village I still live in, I used to only visit the Village Stores and Post Office when I happened to be passing in my car on the way or way back from somewhere, rather than walk the 400 yards to get there on foot from my house. I was (am) painfully shy, and in a very sociable, close-knit community such as this one there was every chance that somebody might say 'hello!' to me. I couldn't cope with even the idea of that, so I wouldn't put myself in that position.
I began to thaw after a while - just as well, crazy girl that I am - and I've got to know people, and they've got to know me! But it was ever so hard to start with. Now I love where I live.
Granny used to make the BEST rock cakes! We called them 'rockers'. The secret is the candied peel....