A ROOM WITH A PEW
Patrick Barkham explores the unusual phenomenon of ‘champing’ – camping in a church – and discovers a new-found appreciation for the beautiful religious buildings that dot our countryside
TWO STONE TOWERS RISE OUT OF THE MIST and an owl hoots in the valley below. A heavy oak door swings slowly open to reveal a vast vaulted nave where a bat flits among magnificent angels carved from wood. A disused church is possibly the strangest place to seek out a good night’s sleep but I’ve brought my family along interminable country lanes to Booton Church, in the heart of rural Norfolk, for a night of ‘champing’.
‘Champing’ might sound like the sort of party where moneyrich students quaff sparkling wine, but camping-in-a-church is actually the brainwave of The Churches Conservation Trust, custodian of 350 English churches still consecrated but no longer used for regular services. This year, it is opening up more of them to the public than ever – 12 in total – to give people the opportunity to spend a night in a beautiful ancient building anywhere from Somerset to Shropshire, up to Cumbria and even Orkney.
Norfolk is famed for its abundance of medieval churches, a legacy of its wealthy sheep farmers in the 14th and 15th centuries, but Booton is particularly striking. It was built much later, at the end of the 19th century, by Whitwell Elwin, an eccentric vicar and descendant of Pocahontas, who had no architectural training whatsoever. He created an elegantly proportioned Gothic construction that looks a bit like a miniature cathedral and
A whole church to ourselves! It’s really rather exciting and a little strange
yet sits in the middle of nowhere, with only an old rectory nearby for company. I didn’t notice its strangeness as a child, when it was simply my local church: I spent the first nine years of my life in Booton, a hamlet best known as the boyhood home of Stephen Fry. I remember the Christmas carol service here, and playing in the graveyard. Booton is still consecrated, and the locals continue to flock to the carol service each Christmas, but for much of the year it stands empty, admired by a trickle of visitors interested in Gothic curios.
We arrive at the church at twilight and I expect it to feel spooky but it just seems peaceful. My three young children run inside, thrilled and dumbstruck by the size of the nave. On each side are campbeds – Booton sleeps ten, and so we’ve come with another family for the night – and in the middle is a circular mat with camping chairs and cushions arranged in a circle. They face a little table, on which sit pretty fairy lights and electric candles.
The ‘champing’ facilities differ at each church but the basic principles are the same: beds are provided, alongside a kettle, water, tea, coffee and hot chocolate. Champers must bring their own bedding (lots of it) and snacks. In a large unheated stone building, there’s an obvious desire for a fire but no naked flames are allowed.
A whole church to ourselves! It’s really rather exciting and a little strange. The children scamper off to play hide-andseek, their voices echoing with delight as they find a secret door. Booton is still recognisably a church, with a cross on its altar and prayer books by the door. There is also a dusty old organ, which the children approach with glee. “Is there a ghost inside?” wonders one.
Eventually, we find another secret door in the chancel that leads outside to a smart little hut, which is the composting toilet. Booton has a water cooler, but no running water or showers, so camping is an austere experience. ‘Champing’ is not bargainbasement camping (£39-£59 per adult per night) but it is such a unique experience, the money goes to a great cause (preserving
the churches) and the price also deters people who might not treat the buildings with the reverence they deserve.
We head out to a country pub for an evening meal and the church looks even more magical in the moonlight on our return. When the children’s excitement finally dissipates into sleep, we sit round the fairy lights and have a drink (alcohol is permitted; as the ‘champing’ organisers say, it has always been part of the ritual of church services). We plan to stay up playing games but there’s something so soothing about this vast, tranquil space that we’re all tucked up by 10.30pm.
I lie on my camp bed, gaze at the vaulted ceiling and marvel at the intricacy of its wooden seraphim. I’ve never slept in such a large space before. The ornate carvings and the spectacular stained-glass windows were probably quite ‘bling’ in their day but this is a truly inspiring space. I’m not a religious person but before I fall asleep I ponder the faith that drove Whitwell Elwin to build such an incredible building. His commitment and slightly mad ambition is a source of wonder. Late at night, this deeply restful place feels like one man’s vision of heaven, or at least a house of profound peace that is on its way there. If my three-year-old hadn’t woken in the night requiring some warm milk to ward off homesickness, I would have slept better than I had for weeks. Morning comes gradually and the sun rises to give brilliant colour to the stained-glass windows. There isn’t a sound from the countryside around and the world feels mellower somehow.
It is a wrench to return to the busy, secular world of everyday things, and to pack up our beds, before driving a mile to The Dial House in the pretty market town of Reepham. In my childhood, this was a grotty place to stay but it is now an extremely good boutique hotel and restaurant, and the sun streams in as we eat an Aga-cooked hot breakfast in a secret room, behind a revolving bookcase.
I feel we are genuinely privileged to be able to stay in places like Booton Church. That such a vivid experience is available to anyone is a great credit to The Churches Conservation Trust. It is also a testament to the people of faith who left us such a grand legacy of beautiful and inspiring public buildings across our land.
‘Champing’ costs from £39-£59 per adult and £19 per child per night. For more information, call 020 7841 0436, email champing@thecct.org.uk or visit champing.co.uk. The Dial House (01603 879900; thedialhouse.org.uk).