10 of Britain’s most eccentric villages: chosen by readers
Winning tip: Staffordshire Alps
Ilam, Staffordshire, is a surprise. Although there has been a settlement here since Saxon times, the current buildings are all in the style of a Swiss village. It was built in the early 1800s by a wealthy local landowner, Jesse Watts-Russell, purely because the surrounding Peak District area reminded him of Switzerland. Unlike some wealthy landowners, he seems to have been something of a philanthropist – he built and funded a school before education was compulsory.• visitpeakdistrict.comJane
Rocket science, Outer Hebrides Scarp village on the Isle of Scarp was once home to 200 people following the clearances from the Isle of Harris. Life here was hard: the soil was poor, and there was no harbour, so families were unable to thrive. Both the village and island were deserted in 1971. The township was immortalised in a film (2004’s The Rocket Post) thanks to an unsuccessful 1934 experiment to deliver mail by rocket by a German engineer, Gerhard Zucker, who was later deported but continued to pursue his mail rocket dreams long after the second world war. More than 4,000 letters were scattered, singed, across the beach as the missile failed. Today, the deserted village can be seen from Traigh Mheilein beach on Harris; the bright red phone box still visible on the shoreline.•islandeering.comVanessa Wright
Elizabethan connection,
Bisley is a picturesque village in Gloucestershire. Legend goes that in 1542, Elizabeth I died there while visiting as a child. Her guardians, fearing for their lives, replaced her with a local boy – the Bisley Boy. This is thought to explain why the queen never married.
Cotswolds
It is said that an unmarked grave of a child was discovered years later in the grounds of the house where Elizabeth stayed. Rumours still abound that her ghost stalks the village. Bisley also has a peculiar pagan celebration for Ascension Day, which usually falls in May. To this day, children in 18th-century school uniforms march through the village to the sound of a brass band and decorate the wells with flowers.Phoebe
Beautiful views, ugly history, Isle of Skye
Whether it is because Bonnie Prince Charlie hid nearby as he made his escape, or for the fabulous views of the Cuillins or the fact that its name preceded Gaelic and had its origins in the Norse language, the village of Ergol/ Elgol on the Isle of Skye is worth visiting. But for me it’s the layout and form of the village that is its most poignant feature. For this village was built by local landowners in the early 19th century in order to force their tenants off the land to make way for more-productive sheep. Among them, my ancestor and namesake. The houses reflect the regimented crofts but today there is no trace of the poverty and hardship that is the real defining feature of the settlement.Lachlan Robertson
4,000 years of history, Derbyshire
A pretty limestone palette of tans, greys and yellows define the Peak District village of Monyash, with its well-preserved patterns of medieval strip fields and drystone walls. Monyash boasts its own “stonehenge” – the nearby Arbor Low, built by villagers before 2000BC. From Roman lead mining to Quaker stronghold, this little village packs historic punch. Then there’s Monyash’s role in international politics and the cold war: in the 1980s, an early warning system was installed at the Bull’s Head pub. Ally
Tar barrels and Daleks, Northumberland
At first glance, Allendale Town in the North Pennine Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty is a normal village inhabited mostly by older people and dog walkers. But would you believe a village like this has a science fiction museum with a real-life Dalek? That it has three pubs, just metres apart? That every New Year’s Eve, dozens of villagers put on fancy dress and carry flaming tar barrels around the village? This is a spectacular occasion that attracts thousands of visitors every year. There is even a song written about it, Tar Barrel in Dale, recorded by the Unthanks. Give it a listen and learn about this wonderfully weird village.Charlea Harrison
Miser’s curse, Hampshire
In the 12th century, on her deathbed, Lady Tichborne requested of her miserly husband that he compensate the workers on their estate in the village of the same name east of Winchester. Her husband agreed, provided she could crawl around the estate and visit all the households before a log placed on the fire burned out (an area still referred to as The Crawls). She was successful and Lord Tichborne agreed to provide an annual “dole” of flour to each resident. Lady Tichborne ensured that the dole would continue beyond her death by placing a curse on the Tichbornes whereby the family line would die out if the dole was abandoned. This almost happened several times in the 19th century, but the line didn’t actually die out until the 1960s. In pre-pandemic times there was still a Tichborne Dole festival each March.Melinda Burns
Wakefield’s ‘millionaires’ row’
Heath, the “village of the mansions”, is just a stone’s throw from Wakefield but feels like a world away. The green is vast and, unusually, there is no church. Instead the eye is drawn towards the numerous 200-year-old mansions around the edge of the green, rather than hidden away down long drives as is customary. The original residents – merchants and businessmen – wanted their wealth to be apparent. Heath became a sort of latterday equivalent of a millionaires’ row, a place to be seen and, as it’s on top of a hill, to look out from. The Kings Arms (with large beer garden) is recommended after a wander.Paul Kirkwood
Pilgrims and lepers, Kent
Between rolling orchards and the outskirts of Canterbury, Harbledown is a small village with a lot of history. Chaucer’s pilgrims are supposed to have passed through here: in the Canterbury Tales it is referred to as “a litel toun” called “Bob-up-and-down”. The Black Prince’s Well, framed by an arch of Kentish ragstone, was believed to cure leprosy, which is why Archbishop Lanfranc ordered a leper’s hospital to be built here in 1085. The hospital and well can still be seen, and are the cause of Harbledown’s most unusual feature. Although it is only a tiny village there are two churches on opposite sides of the road – one for the general population, and the other for the infectious hospital patients.Alexandra McLanaghan
Another Middle-earth, Devon
You can drive past the turning to Haytor Vale on the road to Widecombe and never know this charming village is there. Haytor Vale nestles in a valley under Haytor Rocks on Dartmoor, it was a reputed holiday venue for JRR Tolkien, near magical woodland walks with a stream running through, reminiscent of areas of Middle-earth. Other visitors include Dame Christabel Pankhurst, who stayed regularly in the village. The Rock Inn and the cottages nearby were built for the workers on the Templer Way, by which granite was transported via the unique granite tramway and Stover Canal to the coast.Maureen Williams
the right distance from the background wall.” Clinton, it seems, was too close.
If Trump automatically gets zero, other celebrities are fair game. Lady Gaga’s ultra-minimalist backdrop scored her 2/10, while John Legend got 10/10 despite being largely blocked by a piano. Like Clinton, everyone seems to want to be rated. US pundits such as Steve Schmidt and John Heilemann are known for placing pineapple ornaments in shot to show they know they’re being watched by the account. (“I call the pineapples, ‘Room Rater calling cards’,” says Taylor).
Taylor runs the account on a sixyear-old iPhone, doesn’t have a laptop and is today speaking via his partner’s tablet, which is propped up on a cat perch. Lined up behind him is a photoseries of the Italian towns of Portofino, Rome and Venice. He’s too close to the wall and the lighting is terrible. “We are not interior decorators,” says Taylor. “We just pretend to be on Twitter.”
The optics are key, but there’s a warm cattiness in the commentary. Occasionally, posts read like haikus. “Love the port wine posters. Sunflowers. Depth. Add pillow to left. 9/10,” says one. Sometimes, they’re more pragmatic: “Cozy room, warm colours, animal art, but could use an updated paint job on the green wall. 6/10”. Spiky entries loaded with expletives are reserved for Jordan Peterson’s clutter-laden den.
My own backdrop is disappointing. Peering into the screen, Taylor points out the earphones behind my head as a major cord violation. Having just moved flats, I have no art on the wall yet, but I remove the earphones and immediately go from a six to a seven. My daffodils get me an eight. With a framed piece, and “something of whimsy such as kid’s art”, I could be a nine. I prop up a postcard from my niece. “What most people are lacking to score well is a piece of art. If you’re on CNN for four minutes, just move the piece from the hallway”.
Bookcases have, of course, become the background of choice for anyone cultivating their self-image. Taylor says he sees a copy of Robert Caro’s The
Power Broker on every fifth backdrop in Washington DC. And if you’re under 35 and a journalist, he says, you almost always own the book Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents.
They’re biased towards anything mid-century modern, and tolerate Ikea. “The only thing we avoid is colourcoded bookshelves as an aesthetic choice. We just don’t rate the room, so it’s become a way of avoiding us.”
Taylor’s political leanings bleed into his day-job running Mad Dog, a liberal political-action committee, and he is widely known for his anti-Trump output on social media and billboards. He used to be a “low level” White House staffer. “I did the political merchandising on Bill Clinton’s campaign. I was the chief of stuff,” he says. Bahrey, who is at work when we talk, manages a large-scale commercial greenhouse; big, meandering plants jump in and out of shot on the day we talk.
A self-appointed “luddite”, Taylor still understands the power of social media. A few months into the pandemic, Taylor and Bahrey used the account to raise funds from followers to buy surgical gloves and masks for hospitals in Bronx and Queens. Later, they did the same for Native American
communities, who were among the hardest hit. They have produced Room Rater merch, the proceeds of which now go towards getting art supplies for kids not back at school.
“Twitter following allows you to do stuff, it just depends how you use it,” says Taylor. “But it’s also, you know, public and entertaining. What people exclude in their backdrops is as important as what they include. It’s a deliberate choice, what you show the world.” At a time when our homes must function as a place to live but also be presentable to the outside world, it’s heartening to see the rich and famous struggling under their laundry, too.