Beara Farmhouse - North Devon
Early Autumn 2018
We hadn’t planned to stay at Beara. I originally booked a campsite along the North Devon coastal path for a couple of nights, before we headed down to Cornwall the following week. However, as it often does, the weather had other plans. The forecast of wind, rain, thunder and lightning was confirmed a few days ahead. The campsite emailed and advised that we cancel our cliff-top pitch with the storms that were on the way. I frantically spent the evening scouring my books and the internet for an interesting place to stay, that wasn’t too pricey with such short notice. Then, while flicking through the South West edition of the Wild Guide books, I read a description of Beara. As luck would have it, they had last-minute availability and the next day F and I set off. It turned out the weather’s plan for us was so much better than my own.
We broke up the four-hour drive from London by making a few stops in and around Exmoor National Park. It was evening by the time we came upon Beara, after driving down an off-road track, just a mile outside the pretty village of Buckland Brewer. It was dark when we arrived and raining heavily, so we couldn’t quite make out the surrounding landscape. Despite this, the whitewashed farmhouse managed to draw me in instantly. I couldn’t contain my excitement to explore inside after walking through the little iron gate, down a stone path to a rickety roofed porch, and knocking on the blue front door.
Richard and Ann Dorsett met in a jazz club in London. They then spent the rest of that evening together in a coffee bar that stayed open late into the night. ‘It’s such a chance, isn’t it?’ Ann told us, ‘Neither of us had ever been there before’. Richard was born in London but his father moved the family from the city to a village in Essex to escape the bombings during the Blitz. As a different kind of chance would have it, a V2 rocket missed London and hit the small village that they had moved to. Thankfully Richard and his family were all unharmed. But it is Richard and Ann’s meeting and this magic sort of chance encounter that really resonates, for that is the feeling that our time at Beara gave us.
While at school in the 1950s, Richard was told by a careers advisor that woodwork was dying out and was advised to go into engineering. But he ignored this advice, contacted a youth employment officer and insisted upon learning the craft. Richard was then put in touch with a local shop fitter and ended up working with him for six years. Eventually their business folded, largely due to the inevitable demand for machined work. But Richard was persistent, and at 21 started his own business. In his words, ‘I’ve just kept going ever since. I’m very lucky really. I chose something I wanted to do my whole life.’
Richard’s business was the restoration of old, period and timber buildings in Essex. He did this for 35 years before passing it on to his sons. For 24 of these years, Richard and Ann worked on a period property of their own and turned it into their family home. During the works, the old house revealed trinkets from its past to them, including a Victorian child’s shoe found in a cupboard under the stairs, and a religious leaflet discovered in the loft that was dated 1873, exactly 100 years prior to them buying the house. When they eventually sold their beloved home, they wanted these treasures to stay with it, and so passed them on to its new owners. It is obvious that Richard and Ann value this sense of place, stories and objects becoming part of the fabric of a building and its history. A belief that they certainly carried with them from Essex to Devon.
As their children grew up and left home, Richard and Ann began to speak more about a move to the coast. It was after a long and difficult search that they found Beara, sat in a sleepy corner of North Devon. When they first came upon the old farmhouse it had been empty for over four years. Richard described it as almost derelict, smelly, damp, mouldy and dark, with plenty of work to be done. But ‘there was something about it,’ Ann described, ‘it had a wonderful feel’. With scope for drastic renovation that was all part of the appeal, it had exactly the kind of potential that Ann and Richard were hoping to find. And in turn, they had the ideal combination of imagination, dedication and the right skill sets that the house had been waiting for.
Richard told us that they brought down some 21 tonnes of their own antiques accumulated over the years, storing them in the barn before the contract for Beara was even signed. Luckily it all panned out, and soon enough Richard and Ann accompanied their treasures to the South West. On arrival, they had only a kettle, a toaster, two budgies and a mattress to hand. Their first night in the house was spent sheltering from a storm in early January, with the lone mattress laid upon a stone floor in front of the old fireplace. When the woke up the following morning they were covered in what they thought were mouse droppings. Not long after, they rehomed a couple of cats in retaliation! It turned out that the droppings were, in fact, bat’s. ‘They still like to hang around every now and then,’ Richard told us. ‘We had five in the living room just the other night.’
For 18 long months the Dorsetts laboured to transform the run-down farmhouse and its outbuildings, all the while living there. Through his business, Richard had access to reclaimed materials that he transported down; slates, beams, timber and bricks. When they first started the work in this part of Devon, Richard described it as going refreshingly back in time. He explained, ‘deposits weren’t required to hire any machinery for a start.’
Beara’s walls were constructed with Devon stone and a traditional combination of clay and straw, some being nearly a metre thick in places. Richard signed himself up on a local training course in order to authentically restore these ancient cob buildings. A young apprentice got on board, working for free in exchange for food, a place to sleep, and to learn from Richard’s skills as a truly gifted carpenter and joiner. Aside from subcontracting the electrics and plumbing, the Dorsetts tackled everything else themselves.
Ann remembers spending the majority of this time in boots and a boiler suit and referred to herself as ‘the demolition squad’, knocking through and down many walls about the place. This was a very welcome change from working in an office accounts job, but it wasn’t without its trials and tribulations. She recalled mud being ever present, spoke of the constant cold without any heating, of living off countless cheese toasties with nowhere to cook, and, most of all, how she missed her children back in Essex. But soon enough the house began to reveal it secrets, reminders that all their work really would be worth the effort.
Richard has an eye for sympathetically repurposing anything unique and interesting. The house is full of beautiful and functional features that he has transformed from discarded materials found on site. These included cast-iron guttering rescued from a hedgerow, doors made from thick old floorboards, and stones from pulled down walls used to build up new ones. Oak from the cattle shed has become the front porch and large flat stones, rounded at the edges by cows’ hooves, now garden paving.
As well as repurposing materials, Richard’s restorations reach every corner of Beara. Stripping back the 20th century additions revealed the likes of original ceiling beams, blackened by smoke from past years of exposure. Another ceiling came down to showcase a stonework chimney, dramatically reaching up to a vaulted beamed roof in the master bedroom. Behind painted panels in a large inglenook fireplace, a bread oven was discovered that Richard has re-built the bottom half of. The farmhouse’s original white Rayburn has also been salvaged and re-fitted, ‘belonging to the house’, as Ann described.
The Dorsetts didn’t shy away from remodelling the layout and did so with bed and breakfast accommodation in mind. It’s hard to believe that the sun and breakfast room occupies a space that was once an old dairy. Harder still, that complete with beams, custom units and a large inglenook, the current kitchen was also installed by Richard in the footprint of old store rooms. As well as the main farmhouse, Richard and Ann set about renovating the cattle sheds, known in Devon as ‘Shippons’. One is now Richard’s well-used workshop. Another two have become separate self-catering holiday dwellings, both with upside-down layouts where the open-plan living spaces upstairs make the most of the views. At Beara, it really feels as though everything is exactly where it should be, like it has always been that way. I don’t think I have come across more authentic restorations with such a rich sense of place.
The origin of Beara is hard to pin down, but it is believed to have been built several hundred years ago as a farmhouse, with some later Georgian and Victorian additions. Richard told us that, in 1821, Napoleonic prisoners of war of a nearby army camp were involved in the building works. There are certainly many layers of history that Richard and Ann have managed to peel back, snippets of times gone by. The house itself has offered up tokens to them that provoke such thoughts. One occasion, when stooping his head to enter the scullery, Richard noticed a small gap in the wall. He dug it out to re-plaster, and inside felt some paper. Teasing it away, Richard had discovered a well-preserved newspaper clipping from The Western Times, dated 1877. Another occasion, Ann was dusting the bathroom floorboards and noticed a small brass ball rolling across them. By chance, they found it to be a perfect fit for a brass bed that they had owned for many years and that had always been missing such a ball.
As well as unearthed treasures found at Beara, Richard and Ann have filled its rooms with many other curious objects from the past. Found in antique shops and at car boot sales, these include collections of rusty old keys, gas lamps, enamel signs and earthenware jars. One of the self-catering shippons known as The Sparrows, is home to Ricard’s own take on an antique piece; a box-bed he built from a medieval design. Tucked behind the doors of a large wooden cabinet you find a single bed. Richard told us that these were used in old houses and often built either side of fireplaces in order to utilize the heat to keep warm. They were intended to stop things falling from thatched roofs onto you while sleeping, as well as to provide a little bit of privacy in homes where everyone often slept in the same room. It certainly looked like a perfect nook to hide away in with a good book.
Various handmade artworks and paintings complete the furnishing of Beara, many of them made by Ann in her idyllic little summer-house-cum-studio in the back garden. She has a real eye for colour, texture and detail. Patterns have been stencilled onto some of the bedroom walls, carefully softened with a lighter layer of paint on top. Ann’s flair for textiles and upholstery can be seen throughout; the re-upholstered furniture and bed heads, needlepoint curtains, blinds and pillow cases, all made with collected vintage fabrics. Then, her chosen colours for the walls fuse perfectly with Beara’s features. Cooking-apple green blends with stonework in the living room. In the entrance lobby, a flat red chalky paint stands the test of time after 18 years on the walls. A bold but homely choice that lends itself to the room, especially when illuminated by the late morning sun.
After completing the majority of the works at Beara in 2003, Ann was flicking through a copy of Period Living and decided to apply for their annual Readers’ Homes Award. Richard believes that in this age of email, Ann’s hand written application, posted along with photo prints of Beara, was noticed as something a little different. They ended up winning the award over 300 other applicants and making front page of the October issue. During our stay, Richard showed me a copy over breakfast. Rightly so, the article inside was titled ‘A Just Reward’.
I’ve read that the word ‘Beara’ comes from the Anglo Saxon for wooded pasture. A name that proved itself to be quite fitting when we woke up the first morning of our stay to see outside in daylight. I felt such delight in opening the shutters and peering through the misted panes to see that we were tucked away in a sheltered valley, surrounded by open rolling countryside. Enjoying this view from a little wooden window seat set into a wall as deep as an arm, made it all the more enchanting. We stayed in one of the converted cattle sheds, known as The Old Shippon. It is attached to Beara farmhouse but is fully self-contained with its own entrance. The ancient archway that you pass through is home to a bird’s nest tucked into the wall. A rusty old lantern balances on a ledge by the door and a little wooden seat makes the perfect perch to kick off muddy boots. Being the oldest part of the house, it is bursting at the seams with feature beams inside. Downstairs and across flagstone floors in the hallway, latch doors lead to a double bedroom, a twin, and a coastal-themed bathroom. We slept in the double, a beautiful room, kitted out simply with bed, wardrobe and a little wooden desk. The desk squeezed between that all-important window seat and another deep-set window with slate sill. To write from here felt like a real luxury.
The banister leading the way upstairs was crafted from the wood of an old hay manger. When you reach the top, the space opens up to a well-equipped kitchen and cosy living area, complete with a wood burning stove to keep out the cold. The vaulted ceilings with high reaching beams make you think of a medieval hall. Old farming implements adorn the walls, given to Richard as birthday gifts from his children over the years. We were particularly impressed by a set of cast-iron water troughs, found in the original shippons and innovatively transformed by Richard into wall lights. There is plenty of natural light too, with large French windows overlooking a duck pond and across to sheep grazing in the fields beyond. Another glass door leads to a ledge where old milk churns rest, then down a set of stone steps and back out to the front courtyard. From here you can access a paved patio alongside The Old Shippon. With the wooden table and chairs, it makes for a great spot to sit under dark skies at night and stargaze, or to enjoy a morning cup of tea.
Ann invited us over to the main farmhouse for breakfast. From the conservatory, we tucked into a delicious Full English, with eggs from the resident hens. Richard and Ann were truly charming hosts and fascinating story tellers. We hung on their every word. Without noticing, breakfast folded into the early afternoon and we spent a good few hours chatting, followed by a tour of the house and garden. Set in three acres of farmland, the gardens are full of hidden combes and hollows. The front garden is home to pretty flower beds, old sinks that hold collections of stones, fossils and shells, and on top of a wooden milking stool sits Richards worn out pair of walking boots, now with flowers planted inside. In the back garden, a well-tended vegetable patch and greenhouse, fruit trees, a stone circle and statues. When I spotted a set of bee hives and asked if they kept bees, Richard laughed. He opened them up to reveal hidden coolers storing beer cans. ‘Beer-hives!’ he exclaimed.
For his grandchildren and any families that stay, Richard has built a zipwire and a perfect little tree house, as well as a playhouse known as Little Beara. This miniature stone cottage even homes a tiny working fireplace and set of bunk beds. Truly a garden of dreams for children and adults alike! Other architectural gestures include the half-timbered chicken house with a ‘For Sale’ sign outside. Built in the style of the houses Richard previously restored in Essex, it stands as an homage to their time there.
Exploring the house and gardens with Richard and Ann in this way was a wonderful insight into the lifestyle that they have built for themselves. We felt such an immediate connection with them and really felt at home in theirs. Given such generous hospitality, many guests have become good friends and return year after year. Beara has welcomed the likes of artists, actors, newsreaders, cricket players, and even a Duke and Duchess. The Dorsetts speak fondly of past guests and told us of a couple on their honeymoon who, after exploring the antique shops that Richard and Ann had recommended, were unable to contain their excitement and left early, eager to get home and find places for their new treasures.
Richard and Ann have great local knowledge and were more than happy to share their favourite places for us to seek out. Beara is a great base to explore from with a car and, being just four miles from the coast, it is within easy reach of beautiful beaches, cliff-top walks and cobbled fishing villages. Just a mile away in the village of Buckland Brewer there is a pretty 13th century thatched inn, the Coach & Horses. Ann suggested we go for dinner on our first evening and it certainly didn’t disappoint. It was a tiny pub that felt like a real local with a blazing fire, low ceilings and beams with hanging cushions to protect your head. We were welcomed by the landlord like old friends and the home cooked food was delicious. It had that old-world feel that never fails to charm me. In the 17th century, the inn was used as a courtroom, the cellars as a gaol, and there was even an execution drop in the main bar. Not surprisingly, it is now rife with tales of ghostly happenings.
With so much to see nearby I expected to be up and on the road early during our stay. Beara, however, proved itself to be a hard place to leave. Contentedly, we spent the mornings wandering around the gardens and the evenings tucked away inside by the fire with a glass of wine. It is truly a get-away-from-it-all sort of place. The lifestyle that Richard and Ann have created here is rooted in rusticity. The value that they place on anything with shape, beauty and history is contagious. Ann spoke of people who have moved to Devon because of the beauty, and soon departed because of the slow pace. But for her and Richard this slower way of living was sought after, and they have fully embraced not working to the clock. With this approach comes many other things to be getting on with: from pottering in the garden to building shepherd’s huts from scratch as alternative accommodation – Richard’s current venture! As Ann told us, ‘there’s always something to do or see. It’s only boring people that get bored’.
