As Hollywood royalty Beyoncé and Jay-Z are reportedly in the final stages of securing a 58-acre plot in the Cotswolds, will they become the newest neo-rurals to decamp to the Cotswolds in pursuit of the bucolic dream? It already wall to wall celebrities such as Kate Moss, The Beckhams, Taylor Swift — who rented a cottage in the Cotswolds over the summer — zipping around the country lanes in their 4 x 4s, and then wondering why the yoga classes are held in the village hall. Eeeew!
Along with the DFL (Down from London-ers) and other townies like me — I lived in the Cotswolds for several years — unless you work hard to blend in with the locals and get used to eating a mouthful of dog hair with your pork pie in the village pub, you will never understand the peculiar thing that is English Country Life. Here’s how to fit in.
What would you do if you found yourself awoken at dawn by the loud crowing of the rooster next door? Buy earplugs? Complain to your neighbour? Sorry, no. Retreating to the countryside and then complaining that farmyard noises and smells are ruining your morning lie-in is a big no no. From now on, the pong of pig manure, the din of cowbells and the eatly morning chiming of the church bells will be your background music.
The local farm shops can be… bleak
Simply, we townies don’t understand what it means to live rurally – in a well ordered system that’s based on the Arcadian rhythms of nature. Where the cows are milked at a certain time of the day, and horses fed at 6am. I couldn’t get over how everything was so practical. Forget an organic shop and café nearby, with its soothing beige interiors, and townie delicacies, such as mozzarella and quinoa, the local farm shop was a cold bleak place that sold manure and farm tools alongside eggs.
Homes with traditional names such as the Manor House, the Old Rectory and the Old Vicarage command the highest house prices typically, research by Savills suggests (PA)
PA Archive
Unless you’ve entered a village pub and had everyone go silent, you will not know the stomach-wrenching fear of social rejection. One man, when he saw me coming into the pub, welcomed me with the words, “I can smell a weekender”. He had identified me immediately by my highlighted hair, inappropriate footwear and the way I complained about the weather. First rules of the countryside: don’t wear “fashion” clothes and it’s often cold. Get over it.
Country lanes are for horses, not your umbrella. One startled horse and a furious farmer later, I learnt my lesson
Don’t frighten the horses
Country lanes are for horses, not your umbrella. I learnt this the hard way. When taking a winter walk, I put up my umbrella against the rain. Big mistake as a horse came round the corner, it reared up nearly knocking the rider to the ground. It had been startled by the bright colours. Naturally I found myself on the end of an angry tirade from the farmer. The pac-a-mac and welllies soon became my go-to garb.
Alamy Stock Photo
Never complain about the cold
Alongside the bucolic vistas, the countryside means discomfort. The freezing winds and badly-heated cottages are torture to the townie soul. There are no Starbucks or Gails to pop in for a double espresso and brioche. I often didn’t see another person for days. There were only animals: the farmer’s cows that blocked the lane, horse trucks and sheep. Everything smelt of dog.
There are dogs everywhere
Wherever you go, there are dogs. Curled up in smelly dog baskets in the kitchen, jumping up at you when you enter a friends cottage. From tearing up newspapers, the incessant barking and a layer of dog hair everywhere, it is nothing short of poochamonium. Ditto the local pub. My first night there sipping my fizzy water, my foot met something squidgy, a loud bark rang out, I had stepped on the lurcher that was sleeping under the table. No country points there.
Opt for a classic Barbour (pictured, the Reighton hooded corduroy-trimmed waxed-cotton jacket)
Barbour
Don’t bring your townie ways to the countryside
Learn the countryside code. I know this because on day three, Helen (my horsey neighbour) told me that I had been spotted on several occasions talking loudly on my mobile. Some of the women had complained to the church warden and that was that. I was struck off the Jam-making list (a central activity) and had to claw my way back to popularity. So I helped to strim the grass in front of the church — all the residents were expected to muck in — but I was told off by the warden for not cutting properly. Easy peasy, it is not.
Some local women complained to the church warden that I had been spotted talking loudly on my mobile. I was struck off the jam-making list and had to claw my way back to popularity
Barbours are a way of life
Countryside fashion means head to toe ‘fit for purpose woollens, trousers and striding in muddy hiking boots or proper wellies. Barbours and Husky or Driza Bone wax jackets are still a way of life and getting the right Hunter or Aigle wellington boots and brown gilet, will show you know your countryside dress code. Besides which, you’re likely to be stomping through wet country lanes to get to the pub/farm shop, stepping into horse manure, so Lululemon leggings or Dolce and Gabbana over the knee boots? Forget it.
You will drive everywhere
Forget popping out to your local Tesco for Ottolenghi olives, it is often miles to the nearest food shop and it is more likely to be a bare farm shop anyway. You may find that unless you make an effort to layer up and go for a walk – you will be more unfit than your townie days. Everyone drives everywhere in the countryside. Spinning classes and the gym forget it. There aren’t any.
