John Jenkins & Sons Ltd Nyewood Shop
Let’s talk about a shop that feels like a time machine. John Jenkins & Sons Ltd in Nyewood isn’t just a shop. It’s a quirky, dust-speckled wonderland hiding in plain sight. T...
Let’s talk about a shop that feels like a time machine. John Jenkins & Sons Ltd in Nyewood isn’t just a shop. It’s a quirky, dust-speckled wonderland hiding in plain sight.
Tucked away in a sleepy corner of West Sussex, this place has been around since 1896. That’s over 125 years of selling… well, everything. Seriously, if you can name it, they probably have one in a dusty box.
What’s the big deal?
Imagine a jumble sale, a hardware store, and your gran’s attic had a baby. That’s this shop. You’ll find vintage teapots next to claw hammers and old gardening shears.
Must Read
The shelves are a glorious chaos. There’s a definite smell of old wood, metal, and forgotten stories. It’s the kind of place where you go in for a lightbulb and leave with a 1950s biscuit tin.
The Jenkins family secret
It’s still run by the same family—the Jenkins clan. They’ve been passing down the keys (and probably a good set of jokes) since Queen Victoria was on the throne. The current owner, John, might be the fourth generation.
They don’t just sell things. They collect stories. Rumor has it, they once kept a customer’s forgotten shopping list from 1972 pinned to the wall. Just because.
The weird and the wonderful
You can buy a solid brass door handle from 1940. Or a hand-carved wooden spoon that looks haunted. For a fiver, you can own a tiny piece of local history.
One corner is stacked with mason jars full of screws. Another has a vintage enamel sign for “Jenkins’ Best Lard.” Nobody knows if the lard was good. But the sign is a masterpiece.
Want a cast-iron garden gnome? They have three. Want a 1950s toaster that only toasts one side? It’s there, waiting for a brave soul.
Why you’ll love the chaos
This isn’t a sleek, minimalist shop. It’s a beautiful mess. Prices are written on faded labels in shaky handwriting. Sometimes there’s no price at all—“Make me an offer, love.”
Building on success - Link & Upton Business Centres
The staff won’t bug you. They’ll just nod, smile, and let you wander. It’s like a treasure hunt where the treasure is a 19th-century button or a rusty key to a door that no longer exists.
The real magic
You won’t find a website or a social media page. They don’t do online. The only way to experience John Jenkins & Sons is to go there. In person. With your hands.
That’s refreshingly weird in a world of algorithms and same-day delivery. It’s a tiny rebellion against boring modern retail.
Should you visit?
Absolutely. But lower your expectations of “neat.” Bring cash. Wear comfortable shoes for digging through piles. And be ready to laugh.
You might walk out with a Vict-era doorstop shaped like a frog. Or a 1971 calendar still in its plastic. Or a story about the time you found a real diary from 1934 tucked behind a box of nails.
That last one? True story. A customer found it last summer. The shopkeeper just shrugged and said, “That’ll be a quid.”
John Jenkins & Sons Ltd isn’t just a shop. It’s a living museum of everyday life. It’s messy, chaotic, and gloriously un-Instagrammable. And that’s exactly why it’s perfect.
So go. Get lost in the junk. Find a treasure. And definitely ask about the lard sign. They love that sign.