The Island Grocery Van

In this post I am doing a bit of time travelling - sneaking back to the 1960's - when I lived with my parents and younger brother in a very small village in the middle of a beautiful Hebridean island.    I say village, but it was simply a small collection of six or seven working croft houses ranged along the side of a road.   No shop, school, or church.   Plenty of lochs, sheep, midges and heather.

Once a week we would keep a look out for Iain Harry's little grocery van, waiting to see it bump its way down the quarter mile long drive to our little croft house.   

He would jump out and open up the back doors, which then released a wonderful smell -  difficult to describe,  but it was a mixture of raw bacon, muddy potatoes, baked goods and assorted groceries, not forgetting the soaps and detergents.  It probably sounds pretty vile, but the blend of aromas was very pleasing.     

It wasn't an especially large van, but it held a useful selection of groceries.  Just what you need when the nearest shop is ten miles away.    The only times he didn't turn up was those occasions when we had been snowed in, the deep drifts making it impossible for him to come down the big hill from Achmore.

Stretching the length of the van there was a long, deep, counter;  the walls were lined with racks which held assorted tins of beans, peas - garden and processed, soups, tinned pink salmon, tinned mandarin oranges, pineapple chunks and fruit cocktail, Ideal evaporated milk and tins of processed cream.   There were tins of Frey Bentos corned beef, Spam, beef stew, and tins of ham in jelly.  The counter top held the overflow of goods.

Packets of Sun Ray Tip tea leaves jostled with small tins of Nescafe coffee, Fry's Cocoa, and bottles of Camp Coffee.  Tins of Marvel milk, bottles of TipTree (or was it Tree Top?) orange squash, tubs of salt, bottles of vinegar,  HP Sauce.  Squeezed in among that lot there were bags of flour - plain and self raising - bags of sugar, cornflakes, Weetabix and Sugar Puffs.

He had ready sliced bacon, sold loose, not in packs, sausages, cooked ham, cheese, Scottish, as well as New Zealand butter, Blue Band margarine, Stork marge,  Cookeen lard, eggs, dried fruit, golden syrup, crisps, cakes, biscuits and Scotch Broth Mixture.   Supplies of fresh bread rolls, cottage loaves and milk bread, not to mention Penguins, Club Biscuits and lots of assorted sweeties and chocolate bars.

Beneath the counter there were slightly muddy 'old' potatoes, alongside the big weighing scales, onions, turnips, carrots, a few wizened apples, tomatoes and oranges, and that pretty much made up the fresh vegetable section!

There were household items - boxes of matches, washing up liquid, detergent, toilet rolls, candles and bleach.

So much was squeezed into that van! 

My mother had a little blue notebook in which she would write out her list, read it out to Iain Harry, he would find the items she requested, or suggest alternatives.     Then he would tot up the total.     This was, of course, back in pre-decimalisation days, so everything was pounds, shillings and pence.

He was very fast and very accurate.    I have one of those old order books and can see that she used to spend between £2 and £3 most weeks, though occasionally that would creep up to 90/-, £4.10s.0d - £4.50 these days.

I would help to carry the groceries inside and put them away.   There was a reason why I was so helpful, greedy piglet that I was  -  the reward was a thick slice of the fresh bread - the milk loaf was particularly good - generously spread with the fresh butter.   It was so good! No need for jam.   Then I would head across the fields to the next croft, to help old Marion with her cows, or Old John with his sheep, but more of that another time.