View from a Shopping Cart

SHOPPING is a big part of my life. I don’t want it to be, but it is. Grocery shopping, getting feed for the animals, trying to keep the kids in shoes, and keeping up with the endless litany of gifts is enough on its own to keep me busy opening my wallet.  As shopping is more a chore than a leisure activity, I struggle sometimes with the notion of ‘shop locally’.

In rural North Devon there is a lot of support for ‘Shop Locally’ campaigns. There is something very charming about being able to drive into my local town, go to one of the three Green Grocers, either of the two butchers or two bakeries. It certainly will be shame to see that all go, so in principle I have always supported the idea of shopping locally.

A Bed of Roses

Unfortunately, underneath the Shop Locally bed of roses there is a lot of dirt. While town is convenient for it’s 10 minute drive, having to guestimate how long I need to park there for and find the correct change isn’t. It is a shame that if I meet a friend or neighbour, there is rarely time to stop and talk, as the parking meter is always ticking down and the Meter Maid is fanatical with her vigilant. It is also a shame that of the three green grocers, only one seems to have a selection of truly local produce, and that is usually relegated to a few apples in the autumn and the occasional sack of potatoes. Between the three green grocers, the choice of spuds is remarkably sparse: multi-purpose or jacket. What is the point of having of three green grocers if I can’t find a wide variety of specialized potatoes for mashing, roasting, boiling, chipping? Who wants to buy a potato that is just labeled ‘multi-purpose’ (which useless means not good enough for anything!)? And why can’t I any get nice Mangos? And what does the town have against Chorizo or prawns? Or turkey? Am I really the only one who likes to eat turkey outside of Christmas?

Then there are the ‘Shop Locally’ hours and attitude: “Hey, lets go to that lovely bookshop that is nearby. You know, the one with miserable old git who doesn’t like children in his shop, closes between noon and 2 on the five days a week he is open, except of course for Wednesday when he takes the whole afternoon off. Ya, that is the one, the guy doesn’t take credit cards or checks, and tries his hardest to make you feel like an idiot if you try and interrupt his navel gazing to ask a question.” And does he sell local books? Well, yes, there are two or three ‘local’ books he sells, but then so does the butchers and the briq-a-baq shop. The rest all are Penguin and suchlike.  Am I really shopping locally?  Or am I just buying globally from a local guy?

I like my local shops, I really do, and the butchers in town is particular good. Indeed, it is every

ummm..... fresh .....

thing a good local butchers should be: price competes with supermarkets, meat quality is excellent, they can tell you where all their meat comes from, staff is friendly, they open on Saturday and if don’t have any cash they will let you pay by credit card.  Maybe if more local shops were local like them, the guesstimating and finding change for parking would not be so irritating.

I use my local shops sometimes, but sometimes it is easier to drive an extra 10 minutes to the local Big Chain Supermarket where I can nice mangos and papayas, where (ironically perhaps) I can get Devon milk, and where I also can find that rare salami, special herb or spice, and the ‘Curiosity Cola’ that goes so much better with Sailor Jerry’s rum (which I also can’t get in town) than normal Coca-cola. The prices are a cheaper too! Wots more, if I decided I want to stay for a bite to eat I don’t need to go out and feed the meter, so while I like to shop locally, I also like the price, the convenience, and selection of shopping in Big Chain Supermarkets. And at the end of the day whether my Penguin Classics comes from Tesco or the grumpy bookseller, whether my Spanish factory farmed lettuce is sold through The Co-Op or the local green grocer, does it really make a difference?