When I first came to live permanently in Brighton, I found that my flat was at the highest point on Dyke Road; at the very crest of West Hill. I am in two minds about hills. On the one hand, they can be very scenic in the views they can offer. On the other hand, they are hills, and I am not only unfit but asthmatic, and the incline from the station to the summit of Dyke Road, up Guildford Street would become ever more forbidding each time I had to climb it.

Once I even took a taxi, but I felt too ashamed afterwards to do it again. Well, once again, maybe. The surprising thing is that it took me so long to pop into, at what might be called Base Camp to the Everest that is Guildford Street/Albert Road, the Battle of Trafalgar. 

It was, I felt, a little too close to the station, and extensive research into pubs has taught me that the closer to the railway station a pub is, the more likely it will be to have a reputation for unsavouriness. The people who go to a station pub will be transients: popping in for one last one before their train and caring little for the character of the place. All their trade is passing trade. How silly I was. 

Brighton, I have known for more than half a lifetime, is a place blessed with many pubs, and the more pubs there are the more they are going to have to be good. And so when I finally pushed open the door to the Battle, parched and wheezing from the (checks Google Maps) 177-foot walk from the station, unaided by sherpas, I found that I had discovered one of the nicest pubs I had ever been in. It was unspoiled; it was slightly quirky, architecturally speaking; tastefully decorated (someone there likes both JMW Turner and cricket); and, I discovered, it is one of those places where the fans of the Seagulls and whoever they’ve been playing can drink together without even the hint of anything bad about to kick off. It’s a rare pub that can pull that off: I suspect this has something to do with the mood the Battle generates: benign, and welcoming. The Battle is not a place where battles happen. The beer garden, in summer, is a joy. 

There was some panic last year when rumour had it that it was going to be turned into a sports bar: multi-screen TV, stripped to increase turnover, and lord knows what else; a campaign from regulars seems to have prevented this. When you can again, go in, as a pause during your walk up the hill, and see if you can keep it going for longer than that.

The mark of community is in its willingness to look after everyone. By Dominic Smith

Nine months since ‘Lockdown 1.0’ began, an army of local volunteers remain essential in ensuring some of our most vulnerable remain fed.

The Garden Café, in St Ann’s Well Garden, has been the hub for producing breakfast and lunch food packs for rough sleepers within the city. The café, run by business partners Juliette Bidwell and Natalie Hall, responded to a call from volunteer Gary Morrill to feed those that were relocated to the city’s hotels during the pandemic.

Brown paper bags cover the tables with mountains of ingredients surrounding them – the place resembling a supermarket stock room, rather than a café you’d relax with a coffee and scone. 

How did the café get involved in the project? “Gary Morrill has been coordinating with the council through SWEP (Severe Weather Emergency Procedure). In March he called and asked if we could provide lunch packs. I think this has been an opportunity for the council to reach people that couldn’t have been reached before. Because they are rough sleeping it’s not always possible to help them get in to accommodation.”

As well as council funding, the operation benefits from FareShare, a charity network helping to bring in additional donations from local supermarkets. Local businesses have also provided what they can. “Gary’s the person very much responsible, and has enabled this whole project to go ahead. His belief is that no matter who you are you should be eating good quality food” 

The team have bought in to his ethos – sandwiches prepared for the packs are the same that would be on the café menu. “It’s been a great project to be involved in – I’ve really enjoyed doing it. Without the volunteers we wouldn’t have been able to do it!”

Producing 1400 food packs a week is no small feat, this is a seven-day per week operation. “The biggest challenge at the beginning was making sure everyone was able to work safely while delivering the service. But, you realise how many great people there are out there that wanted to come and help,” said Juliette. “So it’s not been a massive challenge to be honest, it’s felt very and fluid and easy.  “… maybe getting up at 6.30 every morning isn’t ideal.”

Juliette’s positivity is echoed throughout the team; there’s a buzz around the building and a positive atmosphere, as everyone mucks in together – “get your pics now, these bags will be gone soon.” a volunteer joked.

The work doesn’t stop once all the packs have left the café. They work with other food organisations such as East Brighton Food Co-operative and Holland Road Baptist Church to ensure no excess products go to waste. Additionally, the café remains open for takeaways, provides evening meals for those housed at YHA, and contributed 40 food packs for children during half term – “It’s just generally a situation of people helping one another out.” 

For those wondering if they’ll ever see the Garden Café in its familiar state again, the plan is to return to a fully functioning café, though Juliette insisted “I would still really like to continue to be involved in an aspect of helping to feed rough sleepers.”

How do you shop? Stand in a queue outside a supermarket? Or hang out in the park? Gilly Smith knows

It’s 7.45 on a Friday morning in St Ann’s Wells Gardens and the dog walkers are trading dramas and training tips as the late November wind begins to nip. No-one pays much attention to Barnaby and Manon, heavy-booted and finger-gloved up as they haul their produce from an old horse box turned mobile farm shop onto trestle tables. By 9am a chatty queue has formed as locals flock to stock up on Sussex’s best meat, cheese, fish, dairy and fruit and vegetable from The Sussex Peasant. 

It’s the brainchild of 32-year-old Ed Johnstone, a former recruitment consultant from London whose foodie lightbulb began to flash on a rugby tour to Argentina. “I realised that they had a much greater connection with their food system there” he said. “I felt there was a huge opportunity coming back to England a year later to try to establish that here.’” 

And he did. The trademark trucks have now become a fleet, selling produce across the city every weekend from a handpicked selection of local farms and growers who are the stars of this show. “Toos Jeuken from Laines Organic Growers is a Dutch lady in her fifties who has done this her whole life” said Ed. “It’s not a trend for her. She’s up at four o’clock every morning, and has a real interest in making a difference in how people choose to buy produce.” There are stories behind all the stalls. “Jayne and Michael at Jacobs Ladder” added Ed. “They grow native breed beef and sheep and are all about the whole outdoors. They’re 100% pasture-fed.”

Is it much more expensive? Not if you follow the #lessbutbetter ethos; an occasional 2kg organic chicken may be £15, but a £5 BOGOF (buy one get one free) factory-farmed supermarket bird will very likely have broken its own legs by the sheer weight of its fast-grown, hormone-fed body by the time it’s ‘dispatched’. 

The cost of cheap food has a heavy carbon footprint compared to the light touch of Ed’s pick of producers and he pays it forward. “Every time a customer comes in, they’re investing in this network and their livelihoods. And the fact that every 70p of every pound goes directly to the person who’s grown it is a massive difference compared to how other farmers are getting paid.” 

Karma provides. “Lockdown has been a bit of a gift”, said Ed. “People’s buying habits were changing anyway, but with Lockdown, they’ve been forced to look at how they shop.” So there’s the choice. Queue up outside a supermarket, silently masked up and distanced? Or stand in the park – St Ann’s Wells Gardens on a Friday, Hove Park on a Saturday or outside The Chimney House on a Sunday, chatting about produce with Barnaby who makes their sauerkraut or Manon, a graduate in Sustainable Development and herself a grower? I know where I’d rather shop. 

Christmas is coming and the geese, turkeys, beef, vegetables and cheese boards are all ready to order from the website. You can even get your Christmas tree from the trucks. What about the hungry gap, the bleak end of winter when very little grows? “That is a challenge,” he admits. “But we always have plenty of kale, potatoes, carrots and leaks that run through the season. It’s a smaller offer from the land so it’s about getting more creative in how we cook it. And when March comes again, it’s like we got through the winter and here comes the light.”