Devon and Cornwall are two proudly independent, iconically beautiful counties, each with its own history and character. But what about those places that teeter on the brink, just a scone's throw from the border? How do the people who live there feel about their identity? And crucially, how do they like their cream teas?
Buried in deepest, greenest Devon (don't try to find it without a Sat Nav) lies the village of Bradworthy, the last village in Devon (well North Devon, anyway). It sits three miles north-east of the Cornish border and falls within Torridge district council. The next village you arrive at is Kilkhampton, in Cornwall.
However, after driving down miles of desolate 'unknown roads' I was beginning to wonder if my Sat Nav was just having a laugh. So it was a relief to discover that Bradworthy really did exist. And even more of a surprise to discover such an oasis of life huddled in the the midst of the countryside. It was almost like stumbling across a secret village.
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"It's a fantastic place to live," says Bradworthy resident, Nora Stuart. Despite her Cornish roots (Nora's mum was from Cornwall) Nora prefers her adopted homeland of Devon. "Cornwall is more busy and touristy," she says. "I like to be in Devon because it's more rugged and not so busy," she says.
Bradworthy's most notable feature is that it has the largest village square in England (although if you wanted to be picky it's more of a rectangle). Geometry aside, the square / rectangle sits in the centre of the village and is surrounded by shops and houses, helping to create that quintessential village feel.
On first impressions, Bradworthy appears to be a place where all is well with the world. Considering there are just 741 residents, there is an extraordinary number of shops and business, including two grocery stores, a butchers, a Post Office, a vets, a garage, a hairdressers and beauty salon, not to mention a carpet store and a furniture shop. There's also a large primary school and a cosy pub, complete with obligatory roaring fire. If the rest of the world imploded, Bradworthy would probably be ok.
"It’s a wonderful community," says Sheila, who has lived in the village since she got married 47 years ago. "There's always something going on." And just when you thought it couldn't get any more Balamory, there's even a communal apple tree (although admittedly, the houses in Bradworthy aren't quite as pretty as those on CBeebies.)
Unlike some other villages in Devon, Bradworthy is a village that exists not for tourists, but for the people who live there. Locals tell me that second homes are almost non existent. There's a thriving community scene with an exhausting list of events, clubs and activities - a football team, a history society, a carnival committee and a craft club to name just a few. What more could you ask for? Well, perhaps a dentist, says one resident - but then many people in towns can’t get one of those either.
“I think we are special really," says Rosemary Reed. "You can buy most things in Bradworthy. It’s unique because we’ve got a lot of different shops. Rosemary runs Wade's Home Furnishings with her partner, Pete, whose family have had the business for 85 years. Their customers come from both sides of the border, but Rosemary is a proper Devonian maid. “We always say we have to get the passports out if we’re going to Cornwall,” she laughs.
Despite being separated from the neighbouring county by just a few miles, Rosemary says there are differences. “The accent is different over the border,” she says, “especially as you get further down in Cornwall, they’ve got different saying to us.” Not that she holds it against them. “They’re fine really, they just get the jam and cream the wrong way round,” she adds.
While borders have often been a source of bitterness and bloodshed, here it's more a case of when to put the bins out and how to make a cream tea. In Devon, the cream is spread first, then dolloped with jam, while in Cornwall it's the other way round. Although occasionally kitchen staff haven't received the memo.
Robyn Pengilly, who runs The Bradworthy Inn, recalls a funeral tea in which mourners were served their cream teas the wrong way round - and the mistake didn't go unnoticed. "When we do functions we always have to make sure we do it the right way round because people do get offended if you do it the wrong," says Robyn. "Since that day we’ve made sure we’ve done it the right way round."
Robyn whose family are from Bradworthy has fond memories of growing up in the village. “It was a lovely place to grow up, I was always outside playing,” she says. Now, as the landlady of the village’s only pub, she loves the sense of community that still exists. “It’s very friendly, everyone looks out for each other, supports each other,” she adds.
The Bradworthy Inn benefits from a solid core of locals as well as plenty of tourists during the summer. The popular seaside resort of Bude is just over 10 miles away, on other side of that invisible line. Although visitors are often oblivious. "People do get confused," says Robyn, "especially people who are here on holiday. They’ll quite often get confused and think they’re in Cornwall."
John Wellington runs the hardware store Martin & Co. with his son. The shop is a veritable emporium selling just about everything you can imagine - paint, ornaments, tools, ironmongery, gifts, furniture, even beds.
Having lived in Bradworthy for almost half a century, John has seen a lot of changes during his time. He loves the community but has some concerns for the future, especially over plans to build more housing in the village.
"When does a village cease to be a village?" he asks. "70 new houses could potentially be 300 more people. A lot of people if they move in from bigger places are used to supermarkets and that doesn’t do the village much good if they keep going there. You see now Sainsburys, Asda, Waitrose, all the vans going through every day."
For now though, Bradworthy is clinging to its sense of identity - not just as the last village in North Devon, but also as a village that feels like one of the last of its kind.
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