Back in the 90s one of the predecessors to the Sugar Mountain premises was a specialist bed shop and I lived in the flat upstairs with my wife and 2 young children.
Then, one nice summer evening at about 7pm, there was a huge crash and the whole building shook like it had been hit by an earthquake. So I ran out onto the flat roof terrace and looked down at the street below, expecting to see a lorry embedded (oops, pun!) in the shopfront. But no. There was a guy with a mattress on his head running up Derby Hill after putting the plate glass window through.
Ahh… Fond memories!