A visit to 90 High Street, Cranleigh

Yesterday I stepped into the sweet shop at number 90 on Cranleigh High Street. The door opened with that familiar little chime and the scent of sugar drifted gently out onto the pavement.

Glass jars lined the shelves, each filled with something colourful and nostalgic. It is almost impossible not to feel like a child again in a sweet shop.

I took my time choosing.

In the end I left with liquorice and barley sugar. Two sweets that feel wonderfully traditional. Liquorice with its deep comforting taste, and barley sugar glowing golden in the jar like something from another century.

Standing there with my small paper bag of sweets, I began thinking about the building itself. Because the truth is, number 90 has been standing on Cranleigh High Street far longer than the sweets inside it.

The building is believed to date from the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century. Originally it was one large house, before later being divided into shop premises as Cranleigh grew into the busy village centre we know today.

It is a handsome red brick building with three storeys, a tiled roof and traditional sash windows, quietly watching village life pass by day after day.

There is also a suggestion that the building may once have welcomed travellers as an inn, long before Cranleigh’s High Street was filled with cars and modern shop fronts. One can almost imagine horses stopping outside and weary travellers stepping in for warmth and conversation.

Now, instead of travellers, it welcomes people looking for something sweet.

I stood there for a moment thinking about how many people must have stood on that very spot over the centuries. Shopkeepers, villagers, children choosing sweets, and strangers passing through the village.

Buildings like this hold stories in their walls.

As I walked back onto the High Street with my liquorice and barley sugar in hand, the village was moving along as it always does. People chatting, shop doors opening, the gentle rhythm of Cranleigh life continuing as it has for generations.

Sometimes the smallest moments tell the biggest stories.

And sometimes all it takes is stepping into a sweet shop to notice them.

A quiet observer xx