THE FLYING ROOKS

POET AND WRITER CHRIS TOWERS TAKES A TRIP TO LEWES, IN EAST SUSSEX, TO WATCH THE ROOKS PLAY HENDON IN THE ISTHMIAN PREMIER

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A CHILL came over the Dripping Pan, the evocatively named ground of Lewes, as rooks flew over in the drifting mist. The sun had earlier bleached the sky blue as I basked in the unseasonal weather.

I noticed chalk hills gleaming in the distance, with the South Downs not far away. There was warmth in the ground as well as in the skies as I was given a great welcome at the entrance. But what caught my eye immediately was a giant eye in a corner of the pitch? What could this be? More of that later.

Lewes is a curious town, and full of surprises. Many of the shops are independent and the club also has that sense of independence about it.

The town is picturesque and more affluent than some of the places I have travelled to in the name of Non-League football. There are these chalk hills not far away, glimpsing them on a morning run, it was an early preview:

A couple I met in a coffee shop on the morning of the game were intrigued by the club as much as I, and also my book 'Hinterlands', and they duly bought a copy.

There are listed buildings in the town and at the club and that is impressive but so is the fact that this is a club that boasts equal funds for its women's team. The beach huts which function as hospitality boxes, brightly coloured and exactly right for a get together at the game, also impress. A group can hire them for a small sum.

So often 'hospitality' means exclusive and 'out of reach' in the upper echelons of the game but not here, not at Lewes, anyone can hire these boxes. That is different. The brightly coloured hospitality boxes grabbed my attention as did the informal atmosphere at the ground, devoid of aggression. It was a joy to be there. The beach huts, Lewes's version of hospitality suites The game gets underway.