with Mark Davison
Pop Inn Café, Nutfield Road, South Merstham
W HILE out and about in Merstham, near Redhill, on Monday afternoon, I was feeling distinct hunger pangs and deemed it necessary to pull up for a bite to eat.
It was nearing two o'clock when I noticed that a fairly new little café had opened. The Pop Inn was still open so I entered and took a seat, squinting at the blackboard on which were chalked up all the dishes available. These included a wide range of breakfasts, baguettes, sandwiches and so on.
I was pleased to learn there was a supply of coronation chicken, so ordered a portion in a toasted baguette.
The lady behind the counter took my order and I enquired from where she hailed.
"Lithuania," she said, almost whispering. I had to ask her to repeat what she said, for it was barely audible.
I sat down near the front door and gazed at a map of the world, displayed on the wall: My eyes wandered to the North Pacific Ocean, the South Pacific Ocean and then the Arctic Ocean. I could have pored over it for hours, conjuring up images of far-flung islands with palm trees, swatches of frozen Arctic wastelands, hot and sweaty Mediterranean resorts and places which used to be involved in the Cold War. Each country's flags were displayed at the foot of the map, which added even more interest.
A gentleman appeared with the chicken baguette and a mug of hot chocolate I had requested.
I tucked in enthusiastically after he fetched me a little mayonnaise to go with the side salad on the plate.
Sitting just a few feet away was a septuagenarian who had lived in Merstham all of his life. We got chatting and he seemed to know everything that was going on.
He was keen to tell me about a popular plant sale that would be taking place on Good Friday, and the Saturday, Sunday and Monday of the Easter weekend.
"It's all in aid of St Catherine's Hospice," he said. "Mike and Maureen Hooker put it on in their garden at "Brimardia", 83a Nutfield Road and hundreds of people turn up each year.
"Diane, their eldest daughter, is very involved with it," he said. "She works for St Nick's School."
"The Hookers keep saying they will not be doing another one but they always seem to have their arm twisted. It's really quite an event round here."
I gazed across the road at a shop called Juniors, a children's hairdresser's and Colin Pearse's television repair shop ("only open on Saturdays"). At the rear, Susy Radio is broadcast.
Further along was The Oriental, a Chinese takeway, and Sparkles, the launderette.
The chap talking to me said he had taken his laundry there that very morning and had it dried after the wash.
"It's very well used. Living in a flat I don't want to risk flooding so I don't have a washing machine," he said.
I sipped the hot chocolate and got up to order a cake to go with it.
"We have carrot cake, chocolate brownies and banana cream cake," the Lithuanian girl informed me.
I ordered the banana cake, took it to my seat and opened the cellophane package. Unfortunately, the layer of banana cake became detached and adhered itself to the cellophane. Once I had separated the two, I was looking forward to a mouthful, but it slipped from my grip and ended up, upside down on my shoe. I was denied the pleasure of eating it.
My new dining companion told me that Barry, who runs a hair stylist in the parade, had been doing just that for 50 years in the same premises.
My eyes drifted to various modern art pictures on the walls. The cafe was furnished with timber chairs and tables placed on a laminate wood floor. I reckoned that 16 people could be seated at any given time.
"Millers, the hardware shop closed a while back when Tony and Peggy Sansom retired, but they are still living round the corner in Albury Road."
A couple sat silently on another table, tucking into burgers and chips.
"Next door, there's the Rhubarb gift shop. Jim and Norah used to run that and when they left, it was run by volunteers. They had a big party for about 24 volunteers with loads of food in the garden."
One of the customers was talking about how dirty his car was that morning, and also those of his neighbours. He later learned it was caused by Saharan dust falling in the overnight rain.
"I thought at first it was coming from the landfill tip," he said chuckling.
Another man said: "I often come here for breakfast. The other day I had sausage, bacon, egg, black pudding and tomato. It was very reasonable."
