On my Twitter bio it states: ‘Body in Herefordshire. Heart in Lyme Regis. Head all over the place.’
I’m a creature torn. On the one hand I feel passionately drawn to Lyme Regis and always have done. My family took me on holiday there every year from when I was very small. I cried when we had to leave (and sometimes still do!) I love the coast, the history and its strong literary and artistic connections.
I was glued to Broadchurch, filmed in nearby West Bay and annoyed everyone else watching by squealing, ‘I’ve sat on that bench! I’ve walked up that track! That’s not a police station, it’s a block of flats!’ Lots of people enjoying the drama discovered the Jurassic Coast through it. A lot of the estate agents’ details now proclaim, ‘Broadchurch country!’
On the other hand I live, for most of the time in a rural, undiscovered part of the world – Herefordshire. It too has history – in abundance. It also has wonderful food, quaint villages full of half-timbered houses, friendly people and a real sense of community – and fantastic myths and legends.
It may well be discovered by a television drama audience if they watch the upcoming Midwinter of the Spirit, based on Phil Rickman’s supernatural thriller of the same name and set in Hereford city. I love the books and am eagerly looking forward to see how this one transfers to the small screen. (First part airs Wednesday 23rd September 9pm. Watch with a friend. It’s scary!)
On a sunny Saturday a few weeks ago, Hubby, dogs and I had a drive round parts of Herefordshire. It’s easy to take what’s on your doorstep for granted and it was refreshing to be tourists in our county.
We started off in a hamlet quite near to where we live, where we came across this church. Ancient, with a squat Norman tower, it was only just off the main road but we could have been miles away – in distance and time.
Inside was a Roll of Honour which had a distressingly long list of names on it.
We drove further across the county and came to what is possibly the most famous village on The Black and White Trail (a tour through villages to see examples of half-timbered buildings) – Weobley. It’s enchanting, isn’t it? We caught it on a busy Saturday afternoon, as you can see!
As some of you know, a lot of While I Was Waiting was inspired by my move to Herefordshire and most of it is set in the county.
We drove on, down some typically narrow, high-hedged lanes and reached the tiny village of Dilwyn, I think I had it in mind as the fictitious Stoke St Mary where Rachel buys dilapidated Clematis Cottage. It has yet more black and white architechture, a pub which could possibly be The Plough and a village green. The church and its imposing war memorial didn’t feel right for Stoke St Mary though – too grand.
When we got to Eardisland I knew I’d found the right church. This one is the exact image of the one in my mind when writing the scene where Rachel meets Kim and chats in front of the war memorial. It would be where Hetty stood too, after an Armistice Day service and argued with the vicar over which men had been included in the list of those who had lost their lives.
Eardisland is almost too pretty, with the River Arrow running through it, teashops and a great pub.
One of the reasons I love my adopted county so much is its peace. It’s one of the least populated counties in England. As you can see from the photographs, even on a hot August afternoon, it’s very quiet. I realise I might be putting that peace and quiet into jeopardy by writing about it but it’s just too lovely a place not to share!
Love,
Georgia x
