TV reality farm has snug factor

TV reality farm has snug factor
Date: 20 February 2006

THERE can be no feeling in the world quite as snug as lying in a huge warm comfortable bed watching the snow falling upon an endless bold bleak vista of freezing moors and tors. I'd like to say I could hear the wind howling in the wainscoting for good measure, but the place where I lay was very well lagged and double-glazed and the wind was doing its business out of doors.

Which was just as well - because last weekend the top of Dartmoor was the coldest place this side of Scotland. While the rest of the region was suffering January's ubiquitous blanket of murky rain, the magical, semi-alpine demesne at Holwell Farm was wrapped in its own white world.

The starkly beautiful region that lies between Haytor and Hound Tor is a place where ring-ouzels go to be lonely. And that's in the summer. When the tourists and walkers go home on a winter's afternoon, not a soul moves up on Dartmoor's lonely eastern flank. In the gloaming there is hardly a human entity in this high wilderness, unless you believe in the spirits of the dead. And then, on moonlit nights, you might hear distant whispers among the low walls of the ruined medieval village of Great Houndtor.

No man, woman or child has lived in that settlement for 700 years, but the remains of the old longhouses can still be seen just a few hundred yards north of the luxurious farm complex owned by hoteliers - and now TV celebrities - Sebastian and Philippa Hughes.

Lying in my grand bed in one of the couple's magnificent converted barns, I couldn't help but think of the poor blighters who used to live among those nearby ruins. No double-glazing for the two slaves, two villans and four bordars who, according to the Domesday Book, used to abide in the ancient settlement almost 1,000 years ago. What did they do on a night like this, I had wondered, as I turned up the central heating and threw another log on the wood-burner...

I was visiting Holwell Farm as a guest of Sebastian and Philippa ito coincide with Westcountry TV's new ten-part series called The Forgotten Farm, which started last week. The TV blurb goes something like this: "The programme charts the ambitious and exciting plans for Holwell Farm - which could turn into a battle between the forces of commerce and an army of conservationists."

New owners Philippa and Sebastian Hughes are gambling a fortune that 500 acres of beautiful Dartmoor land can be made profitable in a modern world. When they bought Holwell Farm, there was much scope for development and the series follows the ups and downs of an extraordinary farm makeover. "

Their plans are bold and forward-looking but it is also a huge and risky experiment. As Holwell is in the middle of the National Park, any developments must be approved by the park planners. The Forgotten Farm follows the negotiations and battles with builders, planners and conservationists. There are bank managers to convince and government farm grants to claim as Philippa and Sebastian attempt to bring the farm back to life and pay the bills at the same time. But how will they get on?"

They are getting on very well indeed, if the results of my brief visit are anything to go by. I won't spoil the suspense being built by the series - I didn't meet any bank managers or planners - but I can report that four of the barn conversions are now finished and up and running.

We stayed in one, and very, very comfortable it was too. The thing about people who are used to running high-class hotels is that they are not likely to make their holiday cottages the sort of places where you bring your own sheets and camp out. The snow was beginning to fall when we arrived in the bitter cold darkness of last Friday evening, and we were delighted to find that not only had the central heating been cranked up, but that the wood-burner was lit and roaring. What we were not expecting was the perfectly chilled bottle of white wine and an excellent bottle of claret left for our enjoyment - along with a fridge full of bacon, sausages and other carnivorous substances kindly donated by animals raised on the farm itself.

After vast hot baths had been run, food had been prepared in the Aga-like range and wine had been poured, we settled on large and comfortable sofas in front of the log fire to watch satellite TV without giving a hoot that something meteorological impersonating outer Siberia was lurking outside. Even Monty, our lurcher, was to the manor born.

Sebastian and Philippa are well known for running the beautiful Holne Chase Hotel - dubbed "most dog-friendly hotel in the country" - and at Holwell Farm, Monty had his own bed, a large doggy towel and a number of doggy treats. The dog-friendliness reached new bounds later when the Hughes family agreed to dog-sit Monty while we went down to Holne Chase for dinner, but more of that later. Saturday morning was spent exploring the working farm with Sebastian and Philippa.

Equine activities are going to be one of the big things at Holwell come the spring, and in light of this Philippa kindly agreed to take my daughter Nancy riding. Sebastian helped my partner Sue climb aboard a tiny pony so that she too could enjoy the great outdoors on horseback. Alas, either Sebastian didn't know his own strength, or Sue is lighter than she looks. She shot over the animal's back like a sack of spuds on its way to market and it was only Sebastian's quick thinking that caught her by the wellies before she catapulted overboard into the mud. But Sebastian and Philippa are a jolly pair and we all laughed until we cried - and none more so than Sue.

After taking a tour around much of the 500 acres, admiring saddleback pigs and belted Galloway cattle, we found ourselves returning to the farm along one of the refurbished ancient "green lanes" that are Sebastian's great pride. "They are terribly expensive and difficult to refurbish once they get overgrown and the granite walls start falling in, but we think they are beautiful and we love them," he told me.

Late lunch saw us in the snug bar of the Ruddlestone Inn near Widecombe in the Moor, just a couple of miles west of Holwell - and later we joined Alona Newbolt-Young who took us up on to the moor so that Nancy and her friend could see some of her family's fabulous registered Dartmoor ponies. This is just one of the many interesting outings available once you have time to spare on top of the moors.

Sebastian and Philippa are planning all sorts of activities for guests as the Holwell project gets up and running - including horse riding, sea-trout fishing and falconry, to name but a few. All this mountain air can, it goes without saying, make you very hungry, which is why we found ourselves taking the ten-minute drive down, down, down from high Holwell into the depths of the Dart Valley where the Hughes's well known Holne Chase Hotel lurks deep in its own scenic sylvan demesne.

As I've mentioned, the couple (who live in the big farmhouse adjacent to the new barn conversions) looked after Monty, and said they can arrange transport and baby-sitting for cottage guests who want to dine at the hotel. Somehow, a sumptuous meal at a sumptuous country house hotel provided the ideal end to a weekend in what must be one of the Westcountry's most sumptuous holiday cottage complexes.

Sebastian and Philippa's project at Holwell might be the subject of a TV series - for all I know, viewers might yet see all sorts of shenanigans - but what I can report is that a night spent on the bare moors in such stylish luxury is one that you will undoubtedly remember. The only trouble is I'm haunted by the thought of those poor blighters living up there in their draughty long-houses devoid of double-glazing or central heating. How did they keep warm?

Martin Hesp

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