Over recent decades the milkman’s lot has not been a happy one. Struggling with reduced demand, the halcyon days of the 1960s and 1970s seem a long way away.
During the boom years for door to door milk deliveries, the UK Electric Vehicle Association found that this country operated more battery electric vehicles on its roads than the rest of the world combined – and almost all were milk floats.
But recently there has been an uptick in demand. As people become more eco-conscious, the traditional milk float, along with reusable glass bottles is regarded as a big plus, and the first lockdown saw a huge surge in doorstep deliveries.
Steve Hayden works for Parker Dairies and I arrive at their depot at Woodford Green to catch up with him on his rounds at the ungodly hour of 3am.
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Now 62, he’s been a milkman for 36 years years and is one of 20 at Parkers, which started in 1985, and whose central remit covers the East End and central London. They have ten traditional floats, one of which is Steve’s, and a further ten modern vans.
‘It’s three to four hours for a full charge and we could get all the way down to Southend-on-Sea, although not back again!’ says Steve.
The average Parker milkman delivers up to 500 pints per day, the majority of which are in traditional glass bottles, which can be washed and reused up to 35 times.
We head out around 4 am and it is pitch black. Steve operates the number 34 round, which skirt the edges of Wanstead in east London. ‘We’ve got to do the earlies first,’ he tells me (that’s customers who leave for work earlier than most).
‘As soon as you lay a pint on a step, you’re earning. You have to be a special type of person to be a milkman; a milkman is born, not made.’
As the sun creeps up, we begin to see signs of life, joggers, dog walkers, school-run parents and children all smile and wave at us as we pass, with many knowing Steve by name.
‘A smile and a wave is so important,’ he says.
‘It’s tough out there. That little moment makes people forget their troubles. I can make their day. Nothing’s personal these days. I try to make things as personal as I can. You’ve got to know your customer.
‘Service is the most important thing. I know all my customer’s names. They’ll tell you something and the next day I’ll say, “how did that go?” They smile that you’ve remembered. I’m old school like that. I’ve saved two people’s lives on the rounds, too.’
Steve called 999 when he noticed that one woman hadn’t collected her papers, and another her milk, and the emergency services found them both in distress.
‘You learn people’s habits, that way when there’s something out of place you notice,’ he says.
So popular is Steve that he has switched on the Christmas tree lights for the past two year at Wanstead Green, arriving in a suitably festive float, although Covid has seen this year’s event cancelled.
I ask Steve how being a milkman has changed over the years.
‘The biggest difference with the job is how spread out it is. Itused a be that a round would take in a handful of streets, with a good two-thirds ordering. Nowadays, it’s different. You’re covering twice the ground to make up the numbers.’
I’m fascinated by ‘the milkman’s grab’. Steve can scoop up three pints per hand without even breaking strude and says that his fingers have moulded to the shape of the bottles.
He can comfortably transport up to six empties back to the float one-handed, too, as the noice of the glasses clink together. As we wrap up, a group of schoolchildren pass by, all waving and calling out to Steve. Our conversation then turns to Covid.
‘People were out clapping for me, leaving gifts out and telling me I was doing more than my job,’ Steven says, proudly. But for many, he was the only person they’d have contact with.
When we get back to the yard at 11am, office manager Paul Lough explains how important the milk round became during extended periods of isolation. They simply couldn’t keep up with demand.
‘Oh, it was crazy. We had to turn the website off. We were getting 400 emails day day,’ he says. ‘The first week of lockdown, we signed up 1,500 new customers and we’ve held on to a good 70-80 per cent of those.’
‘There are hard times all round; being able to order supplies to you door and pay at the end of the week is a big help for a lot of people. What other business would allow you to do that?’
Parker has also diversified their business, offering a range of modern plant-based milks, and working with a number of local artisanal producers to provide coffee, meats and bread alongside their dairy products.
And as for the unusual working hours, Steve tells me you get used to it. When he’s wrapped on his rounds, he’ll head back to the depot, have a cup of tea and do a bit of prep for the following morning, get his orders in and unload the empties.
He’ll then travel back home (he’s in Tottenham, north London, born and bred, have a bite to eat, then crash out for a bit. He’ll be up again in the late afternoon, usually going to bed around 9-10pm at the latest.
Astonishingly, he doesn’t have an alarm. He’s been doing it so long, that his body knows when it’s time to wake up…
So the future looks bright. Steve is certainly buoyant. ‘It’s turned full circle,’ he says. ‘You’ve got all these companies offering delivery services and we’ve been doing it for years.
‘Because everyone is working from home, the doorstep is just kicking off. I think a lot of people will continue to do that now.’
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