Oh right, so that's its name. To be honest despite years of this being my local newsagents I've never had a reason, nay the downright tenacity to glance up and get to know this place as anything other than that shop by mine that has everything. An outsider venturing here would fail to be impressed as it bears little difference to a billion little newsagents up and down the high streets of Britain but, for the most part, they're all equally brilliant. Where else can you burst in five minutes to closing time on a Christmas Eve demanding medium-slice bread and be answered with what you asked for, as opposed to a smack in the mouth?
I'm just gutted I wasn't alive in 1905, when the building was used as a 'chronometer manufactory'. What the hell do either of those two words mean? Answers on a postcard. read more