Devon

The Landmark Trust is one of those delightful English charities: it restores interesting old buildings which are threatened with demolition or ruination, and converts some or part of them into self-catering holiday letting accommodation. The deal is that anyone gets to stay in a building of architectural or historical interest, and the money paid for that goes on the upkeep of the building from then onwards.


Some of the Landmark properties are in remote countryside of staggering beauty, while others are in towns and cities (including the poet John Betjeman's old Georgian house in Smithfield in the heart of The City).


The properties are all advertised in the annual Landmark Handbook, from which the first few illustrations of this post are taken.


I've stayed in several, from Cornwall to Nottinghamshire. And this weekend it was to Silverton in Devon, where a dozen of us congregated for my friend B's 50th birthday celebrations.


Silverton is the old stable block from a megalomaniacal scheme by the 4th Earl of Egrement.


He inherited the title and wealth unexpectedly, and set about building a vast -- I mean truly vast -- country palace in the glorious Devon countryside, near Tiverton.


Nothing remains of the palace (which was, anyway, never completed), but the Landmark Trust has over twenty years preserved and now restored the stable block.


This rather large pile sleeps around 14 people with no sense of being overcrowded.


Arranged around an open central courtyard (which, I suspect, would make it a slightly less attractive proposition in the depths of winter), there is a collegiate feel to this place -- there is always the option of sneaking off for moments of solitude and quietness, to escape the throng.


The stable block is set in glorious rolling lawns fringed with woodland and pastureland.


The Earl moved a road to provide a better setting for his estate, and the embankments and cuttings form a delightful approach (including one cutting beautifully lined with moss and fern).



So extravagant was the Earl that, when he died, he left debts which took his estate 130 years to finish paying off.


B's birthday weekend was delightful, and I had the joy of being reintroduced to dormitory living with two very lovely men. I don't know what they'd done to deserve such punishment, but it was a treat for me.


The Landmark Trust doesn't provide frills like tv or phones or WiFi connections: instead there's a small library of books, a stock of games, one or two real fires around which sofas are arranged, a properly equipped kitchen, and, in most (but not all of them!), very modern plumbing -- there's no shortage of hot water, deep baths and powerful showers.


The dominant design criterion seems to be quiet comfort.


There's lots of Farrow & Ball paint, simple furniture (either robust antiques or reproduction), and slightly worn rugs on stone or parquet floors.


These properties feel special but also lived-in.


Most of them are places to go for quiet contemplation, to recuperate from the stresses of urban living, to walk in lovely countryside and to engage in gentle conversation over home cooking. All while enjoying getting to know a quirky or grand or otherwise interesting piece of architecture.




And, of course, while exploring the surrounding countryside and the treasures it has to offer:




I can't recommend the Landmark Trust more highly.