Mark gets militant

It was William Lonsdale Watkinson who coined the phrase 'far better to light the candle than to curse the darkness' in a sermon just over a century ago. Yet in a world that's threatened intermittently with nuclear war, depending on the availability of the US President's internet connection, it's easy to feel helpless against injustice. Of course, we can all prepare for the worst. Action films have told us the best way to react to unspeakable horror is to keep calm and carry on, walking unflinchingly through explosions. And I'm sure I'll find it pretty simple to substitute rat for free-range chicken in my post-apocalyptic cooking.

But all this metaphorical bunker-building feels a bit passive. Whilst it's good to have an excuse to stockpile tinned custard in the cupboard under the stairs, I doubt I'll have any opportunity to defend the village of Ringmer against a real attack. Or, at least, I didn't think I would... until my call-up papers arrived.

Like many people, I'm a little nervous about the delivery of any government document. I'm pretty sure that worming the cat doesn't qualify me for an MBE, which means a letter bearing the House of Commons portcullis is probably trouble. And indeed it is, but not in the way I expect. Local MP Maria Caulfield has written of her disappointment that East Sussex County Council is considering the closure of Ringmer library, along with six other local libraries. Her campaigning puts her in conflict with fellow Conservatives who control the council. Councillors say the planned closures would save money, although the inclusion of Ringmer seems counter-intuitive when the Village Hall building that contains the library has recently been enlarged and visitor numbers have increased. In fact, it was the Chair of ESCC who officially opened the new library last year.

Figures from ESCC mention a journey of 10 minutes from Ringmer Library to Lewes Library by bus, which would be absolutely true if there was a time machine waiting at Lewes Bus Station to save people from walking to the town's library. They also suggest the annual cost of running Ringmer library is around £8,000. That's just a quarter of the amount their councillors claimed in car travel for the last financial year. Sure, people from Ringmer could go into Lewes to use the library. But if that's the case, why stop there? Why not insist that Ringmerites could go into Lewes to use the shops, the schools and the pubs?

Anyone interested can respond to the consultation online at consultation.eastsussex.gov.uk or, if you prefer paper, by picking it up from the library. While you’re there, I’d also recommend borrowing a book. One day, you may even be able to pick up a copy of my favourite rodent recipes. I think I'll call it 'Cooking by Candlelight'.

First published in Viva Lewes magazine issue 134 November 2017

Mallets Aforethought

Tradition is a strange thing. Sometimes it leaves us with events that seem ill-suited to the modern age, such as torch-wielding Zulu warriors marching through the streets of Lewes. And sometimes it makes us wonder why circumstances ever changed. The Busy Bee garage in Ringmer falls into the latter category: a place where you can fill up with petrol, get your car fixed and even buy a new one. It seems strange that anybody would want to disconnect those three activities into separate sites, particularly when there's the opportunity of picking up a packet of fruit pastilles at the same time. Yet this type of all-in-one establishment is almost an anachronism in a world where vehicles are now sold in megastores, petrol comes from a supermarket and you're not allowed to open the bonnet of your own car without signing a disclaimer.

Opposite the garage is the Cheyney Field, home to another tradition. It's where Cheyney Croquet Club plays a game that can trace its roots back around 400 years. I really can't see why a mallet-based pastime isn't more popular. It sounds like the kind of sport that should be an integral part of every macho stag weekend, alongside quad-bike racing in Estonia and an impromptu session of British Bulldog at the airport. Anyway, if you're interested in learning more, there's an open day at the club on Sunday 5th June, which just happens to be National Croquet Day.

These two venues on the B2192 have been on my mind recently because I’ve sailed past them on the number 28 bus. I’m a big fan of public transport, even though it seems a little incongruous when double-deckers squeeze through the bottleneck outside Tom Paine’s house. One of the reasons for my fondness is the cost: a £3.40 return from Ringmer to Lewes is less than a couple of hours’ parking on the High Street. It’s more relaxing than the precision-timing required when trying not to exceed the limits of free supermarket parking. And I can claim a complimentary newspaper as part of my bus trip. You may be surprised how long you can sit in Caffe Nero if your empty coffee cup is hidden behind the Metro showbiz section.

But my main reason for not driving into Lewes is self-preservation. Tradition has gifted the town with attractive narrow streets of terraced cottages. Here in Ringmer, we're blessed with new-fangled architectural features, including driveways for almost every house and roads that are wide enough for two vans to pass without snapping off their door mirrors like a pair of rutting stags. What Ringmerite would choose to venture into a place where every car bumper is as scuffed as a child's football boot? Not without a warning sign on their vehicle, anyway. I’d recommend something along the lines of 'Watch out - I play croquet'.

First published in Viva Lewes magazine issue 117 June 2016

Making your own entertainment

Last month I walked from Ringmer to Lewes, leaving at the same time as the 28 bus and arriving in town several minutes ahead of it. This was, admittedly, at the time of the Great Isolation, when roadworks on Malling Hill had reduced traffic flow to a crawl. Nevertheless, I felt victorious. Only the disappointment of a light drizzle as I walked past Waitrose prevented me from striking a pose like Usain Bolt and shouting "I am Bridge, master of all delays. Yield to me, you lingering commuters".

Some might say that's a sign I need to get out more. They'd say I'm living in a fantasy world, having conversations with myself. Nonsense, I reply. And I should know: a long, long time ago I was virtually king of Ringmer.

Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly. Back in 2014, which is indeed ancient in internet years, I was unofficial mayor of the corner shop in the village. And mayor of my local pub, too. This was thanks to an online service called Foursquare, which let you monitor the number of times you visited almost any destination. The most frequent visitor in any given time period - both fairly arbitrary designations - was automatically named 'mayor' until they were ousted by someone else. If you're not familiar with Foursquare, I can probably guess what you're thinking. It's something along the lines of "What's the point, Mark?"

There were, as far as I'm concerned, three reasons for using Foursquare. You gained a completely inappropriate sense of self-importance. You helped other people make decisions based on your recommendations. And then there was the competitive part: what is sometimes called 'gamification', where otherwise mundane tasks are given a fun element. It's a bit like walking down the street without treading on the cracks in the pavement, playing 'I Spy' on a long car journey or treating the vacuum cleaner as your Strictly Come Dancing companion.

After a while, the creators of Foursquare changed the service and - as far as I was concerned - knocked some of the enjoyment out of it. Or perhaps I got bored. Either way, I stopped playing that particular game. However, I still keep myself thoroughly entertained. That’s why you’ll occasionally see me accompanying my favourite songs on the car radio by drumming on the steering wheel (obviously only when the vehicle is in a stationary queue of traffic and the handbrake has been applied). You'll find me studying the length of supermarket queues and challenging myself to find the quickest. And you'll hear me correcting the synthesized voice on the bus whenever it pronounces 'Malling' like a non-Lewesian.

As far as I’m concerned, it's important for me to keep having fun. If I stopped, it would be a victory for... hmmm… actually, I'm not entirely sure who my opponent is. But I know I’m beating them.

First published in Viva Lewes magazine issue 113 February 2016

Just the ticket

I'm waiting to catch the bus home. I've just missed the number 28 bus to Ringmer, which now seems really pleased with itself. This is clear from the enthusiastic behaviour I've recently observed. You see, every half an hour the bus arrives outside Waitrose after driving down Market Street and past both ends of East Street. Having collected its passengers - sometimes kneeling to help those less-agile travellers - it then does a victory lap by heading up School Hill and away from Ringmer before going back down Market Street again. Yes, I’m sure that’s a victory lap. It's the kind of celebration you don't usually see unless you’re at a Grand Prix circuit. Much as I'm inclined to commend anyone who enjoys their job, it seems a bit extreme. If this sort of showboating is allowed to continue, there'll be drift-racing round the bus station before long.

Perhaps it's pleased at having seen off a young upstart. Just over a year ago we were blessed with the appearance of hybrid buses on the 28 route. These weren't hybrids in the same sense as a labradoodle or a centaur. No, they were definitely all bus. However, they had an electric motor as well as a conventional diesel engine, which meant less pollution and generally 'greener' credentials. They would even announce the name of the next stop. Most impressively, they moved away from a bus stop relatively quietly before the main engine started. Not actually 'silently', mind you. These buses weren't likely to sneak up on you like a mischievous whale; more like a giant Scalextric car, really.

Sadly, I've not seen those high-tech hybrid buses in Ringmer for a while. I'm told it's because they're more efficient on shorter stop/start trips rather than the marathon journey to our village. Oh well. At least I can talk to myself on the top deck without being interrupted by an invisible conductor.

As I look up from my daydreaming, I spot another 28 bus pulling away from me. Drat. I've already had one free Waitrose coffee, so I don't want to wait another 30 minutes. The bus begins its little dance around the town centre. Hang on a moment. Here’s an idea. I reckon I can just about sprint to the bus stop outside Tesco while it's messing about. Running my own victory lap, you might say.

First published on vivalewes.com 23rd January 2014: www.vivalewes.com