Gloria Hunniford Britain's Home Truths

In Britain we have a passion for property,

and of course, our national obsession is house prices.

How much to buy?

You're looking at about 1.7 million for an apartment like this.

But housing is about so much more than bricks and mortar.

Look at the smile on my face.

It's about who we are and how we choose to live.

LAUGHTER

75 years since the Beveridge Report

vowed to rebuild Britain's housing...

Slums must go.

..we're opening the door to Britain's home truths.

-From council houses...

-To suburban semis.

-High rises.

-To country pads.

In fact, anywhere we call home.

To find out if three quarters of a century later

we really have built a better place to live.

MUSIC: Country House by Blur

Over 11 million people live in the British countryside,

but a lot more have their roots here. Including me.

I was born and bred in the country,

so today I'm going to find out the part

that Britain's countryside has played in our housing revolution.

I'm going back to the place that had a massive impact on my life

and my career, rural Northern Ireland.

I'm just over an hour's drive away from the heart of Belfast,

and within such a short time, it's a totally different world.

I've lived in towns and cities,

but really I'm a country girl at heart,

and being back gives me a real feeling of excitement.

If you feel like getting away from it all for a couple of hours

this weekend, I can't think of anywhere nicer to come to than Castle Ward House,

one of the National Trust properties near Strangford in County Down.

Well, that wasn't exactly yesterday,

but I was brought up here in County Armagh, on the outskirts

of a small place called Portadown.

There's my dad, an amateur magician, and there's my mum.

She's outside our house where I was brought up with my big sister Lena

and my gran, Granny McCann, who's on the left, but the place

that perhaps had the biggest impact on me was actually my gran's farm,

a short bike ride away.

And that's where I'm heading now.

I'm in the townland or the countryside where my granny lived

and where I spent a lot of time,

on my holidays and school holidays and things,

but I don't really recognise.

It's 63 years since I've been to this area.

My granny's farm was my gateway to the countryside of the '50s,

playing on haystacks and running across fields.

The memories of country life here are really strong,

as are the memories of the people I enjoyed it with.

I really wish my mum was with me, actually, because...

And my sister - both, sadly, are gone,

and I have such strong memories of...

them being with me, or taking me here.

And my tummy is really...

I've got butterflies now, because I think,

just over the rise of the hill here,

I think this is my grandmother's house.

My granny, mum and big sister would've really loved to have seen

the place again, although I think, like me,

they would have difficulty recognising the small two-bedroomed farmhouse today.

And here's the house.

I feel almost sick with emotion looking at the house,

because although I remember the structure of it

and have a very vivid,

clear picture in my head as to what it looked like,

of course it's changed.

Obviously the farm has been turned into kennels.

DOGS BARK

It has.

And there's what was known as a moss nearby,

that might have been the entrance to the moss.

So, if it's different outside,

I guess it's got to be very different inside, so...

I want to maybe tell the owner of the house now just how it used to be.

The current owner is John Breen,

and he's been living here more than 26 years.

I wish I had a penny for every time I walked towards this porch.

Um, it really is deja vu.

I sort of can't believe that I'm back after 63 years.

Now, obviously you're John, who bought the house.

You would've bought it then from my mother's brother, from Geordie.

-Geordie McCann...

-Yeah. That wasn't there, that sort of bed thing.

No, we put that in too,

just to give something at the front of the house.

Yeah, cos when they painted the strip at the bottom,

-I remember the black going down to the road.

-Yeah...

-You know, when they painted it?

-Yeah.

-Yeah. Is it OK if I go in?

-Yes, of course.

-Uh-huh?

I have to tell you, I feel very weepy at the moment,

because we have so many family memories,

-but I'm sure you've changed it all.

-Yeah...

My aunt, who lived here after my grandmother died,

would've changed it.

But this wall would've had a little window here.

And my granny would sit behind that window, and she'd look at anybody

-going past, cos it's a dead-end road.

-That's right.

She would think, "Why are they going past there?"

And this room, definitely,

was the room where the churning was done for making butter.

And they had the churn and the pats, you know,

to pat the butter and do that.

This is where the feeding was kept for whatever animals

they had around,

pigs and so on, and of course, this bathroom was definitely not here.

-There was no inside toilet in my day.

-Yeah.

It's all so different,

but there are still little corners in and outside the house

that transport me right back.

Well, this is it. As a child, this was the beginning of our playground,

this was the entrance down to what's known here as a moss,

which actually is an area where they cut the turf,

you've got a big long spade and they cut the turf for the fire.

But I so wish my sister and my mum could see all of this.

I really find it quite choking, I have to say.

Because, erm...

Yeah.

Even though the house has changed,

I still see my grandmother in that house.

She was strong, she was quite a tall woman, which I'm not,

but she just had this strong nose and she was very strong

when she lifted things. I suppose life on the farm made her strong.

But I see those people very sharply in my mind today.

So, this has been a joy to relive it,

but very emotional and I could cry very easily over the whole thing.

OK, I guess my home truth when it comes to country living

is one of nostalgia and rose...

Or should that be green-tinted spectacles?

On the sunlit village green, King Willow reigns.

Long may he do so.

And it was all built around the main rural industry - farming,

which in the '50s employed around 800,000 people.

Now, today, it's a quarter of that.

The real future of the countryside still lies in the land,

in its ability not only to provide food for the nation,

but also work and rewards for the people of the countryside.

But I now want to put Britain's countryside story

into a wider context.

And for that, I'm going to one of Northern Ireland's best viewpoints.

It's called Scrabo Tower.

Helping me get a wider perspective on the views we'll be looking at

is social historian Dr Gillian McIntosh.

Gillian, believe it or not there are 122 steps up this tower.

Now, they tell me the views are magnificent,

but I ain't going up there. THEY LAUGH

I think the view here is terrific,

but it does allow you to see the expanse of land...

So, basically, how does it divide up in terms of urban or otherwise?

In the United Kingdom as a whole,

about a third of the land is now deemed to be,

or assessed as being, er, urban,

but in fact two thirds of us live in an urban setting,

and in Northern Ireland about 36% of us live in a rural setting.

I'm wondering how the land has changed, really.

Because, I mean, I came into this world in the '40s.

I mean, if you're looking at a landscape like this,

one of the things you'd notice first of all, if you hadn't been morphed from 1940 to now,

was the volume of traffic.

The expanse of roads, complicated road systems, new road systems,

dual carriageways, and a lot more traffic,

a lot more cars with private car ownership

coming more to the fore after the Second World War.

You'd notice it was noisier, for instance,

because you'd hear the sound of traffic,

but looking out at this kind of landscape,

you also notice pylons, electricity pylons.

Now the shire suffers a devastating change.

Its gentle landscapes strung with wire,

old places looking ill and strange.

Somewhere like Belfast had electricity from the end of the 19th century,

but electricity rolls out across Northern Ireland much more slowly,

and even into the period of the '40s and '50s

people would've still had, in rural areas, used gas,

used oil lamps for lighting and cooking in their homes.

When I was a child, we were living off a gas mantle on the wall.

You know, we didn't have electricity.

People were using electricity not so much for their homes but for work.

You might have had...

The milking parlour might have had some electricity,

but you wouldn't necessarily think that you needed to have that in your home.

It's amazing to think how late

mains electricity actually came to the British countryside.

Pylons started to appear in the '20s,

when the National Grid was established.

But by 1938,

nine in ten farms and a third of all rural dwellings

were still without mains power.

Electricity use in British homes really began to take off

in the '50s, with new gadgets coming out every month.

Another machine which saves hours of time

is the electric ironing machine, which is being demonstrated here.

But even then, only half of the UK's homes had sockets,

and it would be a long time until rural kitchens

joined this technological revolution.

Incredibly, some parts of the UK countryside were still waiting

for electricity to arrive right up to the 1970s.

I think that women had it really hard then.

Because I still have a memory of, say, my mother with a washboard,

and just a boiler, and to do just a Monday wash was really hard work.

Yes, and I think that women were probably the drivers

of wanting electricity to come into their homes,

because they got laboursaving devices.

Women were responsible for lighting the home, for tending oil lamps,

for instance. That responsibility would be taken off them.

Women's work, like ironing for instance,

which would previously have to be done with a fire and heating an iron,

now you could buy an iron that you plugged in

and your work got done much faster.

So women drove the domestic goods end,

er, which needed electricity to work.

Well, Gillian, I have to tell you it's fascinating,

and I think you've been a Trojan standing in this wind

and gale, I think it's about to rain,

-so I think we should go, don't you?

-Yes...

Speaking to Gillian has made me want to know even more

about how living in the countryside has changed

since I left these parts.

It's a story that in many ways hasn't been told,

with our obsession for all things modern and urban

drowning out the rural story.

AIR RAID SIREN As with so many things,

the Second World War was a real watershed

when it came to our urban-rural divide.

In the wake of the Blitz,

the powers that be were determined to rid the nation of slum living,

and that meant rebuilding the cities,

planning new towns and erecting council estates across the land.

But the countryside way of life still had a big romantic draw.

And after two world wars,

many people began to question just what kind of Britain

-we had been fighting for.

-But this I do know -

we ain't never properly appreciated all these things we got so used to.

We made a fine big war effort.

When it's all over, we got to see to it we make a fine big peace effort,

there's no two ways about it.

If country ways were to survive,

then something drastic had to be done, and here in Northern Ireland,

they took the lead by setting up this place.

The Ulster Folk Museum in Cultra

was established in the 1950s by an act of Parliament.

Its aim?

Well, it was to help preserve the way of life

and the properties of a rural tradition that many felt

to be under threat by the modern world.

In many ways it was the forerunner of a wider UK heritage industry,

that today is worth millions.

So, like many visitors before me,

I've come here to experience how things used to be

in the countryside, and you know what? I want to look the part.

So my first stop is Sloane's drapers.

The original shop opened in 1887

and seven generations of tailors have worked here.

Out at the back of the shop

they still hand-weave clothes, which are worn by the museum staff.

Well, I think it's time I got fitted out,

and guiding me on my journey back to the past

is the museum curator of textiles, Valerie Wilson.

The vast majority of what you see in this exhibit building

-is the original material from Sloane's shop...

-Really?

..around 1910 to 1915.

I remember my mum,

I mean, she used to wear corsets like this

with the stays, with the boning that went down here.

It would be so uncomfortable.

When she took it off at night, it kind of just all fell out.

-Yes...

-She'd go, "Such a relief to be out of that corset."

What delicacies do you have lined up for me, then, today?

Well, I have a lovely autumnal outfit.

-OK.

-A choice, actually.

All good shops would give you a choice.

Er, a comfortable wool skirt.

Obviously no zippers, because we're

-looking at a time that's long before zippers.

-That's good.

Anything that's got elastic in the waist, I like it.

What about a coat, just in case it gets chilly?

Just one...

is an exact replica of the original in the museum's collection.

This sort of puffed shoulder idea is very in this year.

I love this, where

all the attention is focused on drawing your eye down to the waist.

Yeah. Beautifully made.

-OK.

-Where do I change?

-Just at the back of the shop.

-Lovely.

-Take it to the room?

-Thank you for all of that. Yeah, lovely.

Oh, my goodness.

That was just so nostalgic, taking me right back in time.

Not perhaps the most flattering outfit I've ever had in my life,

but it is authentic right down to the blouse

that's got to be buttoned up.

I have my lovely shawl and I've got my beautiful outer coat,

which actually keeps me very warm,

but I think it's time to get totally immersed into country life

as it would've been.

I'm off for a real treat,

to travel back to when I was a little girl,

to a time when my granny was alive,

making Irish soda bread the traditional way.

Now, it's not the first time I've done this on TV.

In fact, I think it's becoming a bit of a habit.

Well, I might be taking my life in my hands by tasting it,

but it certainly is a long time since I've had a lovely hot soda farl,

oozing with butter, straight off the griddle,

and it really does taste good.

Oh, dear. This is so reminiscent of what I remember my granny's farm

to have been. And every Easter,

they would whitewash the walls and the black would've been painted up,

and it was just a special thing

and, you know... She had thatch at one point,

I'm not sure what happened in later years, but...

Amazing. And the hens were running around, just at her place,

running loose, I love that.

Oh, gosh.

You know, this is almost unreal for me, because at my granny's farm

she had this little window, and this is identical, and so is the kitchen.

It's so surreal.

It's almost like the museum has just plucked the cottage

straight out of my memories of Granny McCann's farm kitchen.

And helping me with the baking is Audrey,

who's been working at the museum for six years.

Audrey, hello.

-Hello.

-Hi, I hear you're the master baker?

-I think so.

-I'll wash my hands.

'It wasn't until the 1920s that most British kitchens had a gas stove.'

Shall I pour the milk in and you can stir? Is that a good idea?

'That country staple, the aga,

'also appeared in this decade, as indeed did the electric stoves,

'but like many people in rural Britain,

'my granny was still cooking over an open fire well into the '50s.'

Now, my mum, she used to bake 13 different kinds of bread

-every Saturday, religiously.

-My goodness.

And she'd keep a quarter of the loaf of her bread for our family,

and the rest she'd give away to the neighbours.

-You'll turn it out.

-I usually...

don't even roll it.

-I just...

-Just shape it?

-Shape it.

Oh, not long to wait now.

So, now, if you go back into your own life, your own family history,

what do you remember that might be similar to this?

I, funnily enough, was brought up in a house without electricity,

indoor bathroom, any water, and to me, it's just going back,

like you, back home again.

-Mm.

-Until I was about 11.

-It's like two lives, really.

-It is.

It's now the moment I've been waiting for.

Can I be really greedy and just go for it?

-Just eat it.

-Yeah. Mmm.

Oh, my goodness.

You see, I'm back in the hay field now.

My granny's just delivered the soda bread, off the griddle.

Mmm. What a sharp memory that is.

I can't tell you how yummy it is,

cos the butter is oozing through it. Mmm.

Mmm.

Heaven.

It's truly amazing to think that this place was opened

just as Britain's cultural revolution

was about to get under way,

at a time when rock and roll ruled the world,

the space race was about to begin

and concrete high-rises were springing up

right across the land.

And yet, maybe that was the point.

In a world where everything was changing,

places like the Folk Museum were designed to remind us

of our more traditional roots,

and that's certainly the view of Valerie,

who's taking me to a cottage first built in the mid-1800s...

-I love the little sort of windows and things.

-Very picturesque.

..to show me just how far we've come.

And the fire's on.

Valerie, that's what I call a good fire.

Lots of turf going up the chimney.

-And a nice smell coming off it, too.

-Yeah, lovely smell.

It's incredible to me, in time gone by,

that five people would've lived in this one room.

This would've been everything, really, during the day, wouldn't it?

Well, it would've been, and then it just had the one bedroom

and a settle bed, which you see just behind me here, which opens out.

This house in particular

was well known for its very sociable family,

and it was also known very much as a ceilidh house.

You can't imagine having a ceilidh in here, can you?

No, well, I think on occasions, quite a few of the other family

and neighbours gathered here

for a good old night's entertainment.

So, with this photograph,

is that the person who owned the house?

Yes, that's a photograph of Dan Hyndman.

He's pictured here sometime in the 1950s.

Like most of the buildings in the museum,

the Hyndmans' house was transported brick by brick,

with each brick numbered and put back into place

like a big, giant 3D jigsaw.

In piles of numbered stones,

the buildings come from all over Ulster -

old churches, schools, farmhouses, weaver's homes.

A heritage slowly rebuilt over the years,

rescued from the 20th-century bulldozer.

Why do you think it's so important

that people generally get to know what rural life was like?

I think it's absolutely essential, in some ways.

It has been said that in order to know where you want to go,

you need to know where you've come from,

and that's really what we're doing here in the museum.

That's what I love about the authenticity.

And, in fact, at my age, I can remember, you know,

being in a similar situation either at my grandmother's farm or indeed

-in my mother's kitchen.

-Mm-hm.

Because we would sit by the fire chatting away.

My sister would be there with her friends

and everybody was packed in.

I was under the table cos I was so much younger.

I used to say it was like the clicking of the needles

and the clacking of the tongues,

because the needles were going like this, the tongues like this,

and of course, you always had to finish with a song.

# If you ever go across the sea to Ireland

# Then maybe at the closing of your day

# You can sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh

# And watch the sun go down on Galway Bay. #

Which is a long way from here, by the way.

But we always had to do our piece. It didn't matter what it was.

It was called "do your piece".

I think Dan Hyndman would've loved that!

You would've been part of his ceilidh, no problem.

While the Folk Museum may have been unique to Ulster,

it was part of a wider trend to protect the countryside

that was happening right across the whole of the UK in the 1950s.

Green belts were established

to protect against too much urban spread.

The surrounding country is being eaten up bit by bit.

-Put a stop to it, quick!

-Right.

Then we'll have a great belt here

in which agriculture will be safe forever

and into which the town will not intrude.

Also, national parks started to be established in this era.

From Snowdonia to the Lake District,

there were now ten protected areas of unspoiled beauty

that everybody could enjoy.

There are thousands of square miles of country and coast

which should be made into national parks.

Extensive districts to be preserved in their natural aspects

and kept for public enjoyment and health.

Mountain, moor, forest and heath

form nearly one third of Britain's total area,

and it must be protected.

Also central to this plan of preserving the countryside

was the preservation and restoration of the grand houses.

Once at the very centre of rural life,

around 1,000 country estates have been lost since the war.

But the lucky ones were brought

under the control of the National Trust,

who now manage over 300 historic buildings and estates -

places like the magnificent Crom Castle in County Fermanagh.

This splendid 2,000-acre estate

is situated on the banks of Lough Erne

and was acquired by the National Trust in 1988.

Now, I know this place very, very well.

Before the National Trust stepped in,

I was really lucky to have rented a farm worker's cottage here.

It was the most perfect spot

to come to with my then young family,

so I've decided to come back and see if the magic is still here.

It's very emotional even outside,

because I have great memories of every Friday night

arriving with a car stuffed with food and children,

and we were here every Friday to Sunday, and, of course,

all the holidays in between.

It's this superb double-fronted stone house, for £138 a year.

Can you imagine?

Back then, this cottage was pretty basic -

a farm worker's building next to what was called the piggery

with no heating, not too much of a kitchen.

But, by then, I was working hard starting a career in the media

and this was a piece of heaven.

One of the main improvements we made was to put in a new kitchen,

but, I mean, really, this is posh compared to what we put in.

It was kind of more bits and pieces,

but it was better than what was here originally,

and that was the purpose of such a cheap, peppercorn rent -

to improve the building.

And certainly it improved it for us,

but I think the National Trust has it much better than we did.

What I really appreciate about Crom Estate

is that it allowed me to give my daughter Caron

and my sons Paul and Michael a taste of rural freedom,

the kind of freedom that I'd experienced as a young girl.

I have extremely strong memories of exactly where I am,

because this is what we called the baby room.

Exactly where this bed is, we had the most wonderful brass cot

that an old baby-sitter had given me for my younger son, Michael.

The present Lord Erne was then the same age as Michael.

I used to think it was very posh

that my little boy was playing with the future Lord Erne.

Caron, for example - well, you know, I could weep when I think back.

And she always, always wanted a pony,

but we could never, ever afford...

Sorry, when I talk about Caron and a pony, I get sad.

I'm sorry. I have to stop.

Sadly, my daughter Caron died when she was only 41 of breast cancer.

And today has reminded me of all the precious family moments

that we enjoyed here.

I truly enjoyed this stone farm worker's house and today,

these cottages and the whole of the Crom Estate

is managed by the National Trust,

which means lots of other families get to enjoy it as well.

The management of the estate has also assured the future

of what we call in Ireland "the big house",

and I can't come here without saying hello

to the current lord of the manor, John -

or, I should say, Lord Erne.

-You don't have a knocker!

-Gloria.

-Lord Erne. How are you?

-Welcome home.

-How very nice to see you again.

-Thank you for doing this.

-Not at all. Looking forward to it.

-I love how you say, "Welcome home." That's so nice.

-Well, it is here.

'This is the new Lord Erne, who used to climb trees with my son Michael.

'The former Lord Erne very sadly died earlier this year.

'We were also very close.

'One of the last times I saw him was a few years ago,

'filming with Eamonn Holmes.'

-You haven't changed a bit.

-Are you joking?

-You look wonderful.

-Thank you.

-Welcome home.

Did we do any improvements to this house during our time?

You did. You did. By being in it.

Even by being in it, it made a hell of a difference.

They've got a plaque up there, "Gloria Hunniford stayed here."

It's so funny actually, John.

When your dad was alive and occasionally,

when we were down at the cottages,

he would invite us up for a drink or something.

As the years went on, I used to think it was fantastic

to come into this magnificent castle.

And now, of course, you're the new Lord Erne.

So, I used to call you John-John. Now I have to call you Lord Erne.

-You certainly don't.

-You've inherited the title. Yes.

-Where are we going, to the library?

-We're going to the library.

Actually, no, it's always John-John to you.

Crom Castle is a bit of a new build by country house standards.

It was built in 1830,

after the 17th-century castle was destroyed by fire.

The earls of Erne have been living on this estate for 350 years.

What would you say was the heyday of Crom?

I would say that it would probably have been from the 1850s

through to the sad breakout of World War I

when a lot of the family and the neighbours

and the community would've gone off to war,

and sadly, some of them never came back.

I mean, everyone that lived at Crom worked for the family,

so we would've given employment to many families in the area,

not only outside the gates, but within the gates.

And we had our own letterbox and we had our own shop,

so it was almost like a hamlet.

So, do you think that the estate and Crom would have survived

-if it hadn't been for the National Trust?

-No.

He gave the land and the outbuildings,

and I remember, there were 22 listed buildings on the estate,

which would all have needed to have been repaired at some stage

and looked after,

as well as the acreage of the actual estate itself.

So, it was a complete blessing for us that the National Trust

were able to take it on

and now they deem it as being one of the most important

nature conservation areas in the British Isles,

which I'm immensely proud of.

This little pocket of Northern Ireland is so important.

MUSIC: Orinoco Flow by Enya

It was great to catch up with the young lord, but before I leave,

just one last, lingering look at Lough Erne.

Oh, my goodness,

I've got so many stories about Lough Erne.

The fishermen say that it's 38 feet deep.

It's 36 of fish and two of water.

And there's another lovely expression.

They say, "If you don't like the weather,

"well, just wait a minute."

But it is so beautiful. So tranquil, so peaceful.

It's really important that places and countryside

and waterways like this are preserved

for everybody to enjoy,

because it's a bit of a miracle, really.

Country estates have moved on since lords, servants and serfs,

but the fact that historical and beautiful corners

of the countryside are preserved, I think, is really important.

Of course, it's all very well being to the manor born,

but for those without blue blood in their veins,

the hard work of farming still had to be done,

and in the 1960s, much like society as a whole,

the fields and farms across Britain

were also going through a major revolution.

Throughout the decade, the baby boomer post-war years

helped produce an extra three million mouths to feed,

creating a demand for food like never before.

Well, the prices and quality appear to vary a lot at the moment,

so if you want good, cheap apples,

it looks as if you'll have to get out and shop around.

Out went the inefficient

labour-intensive practices of yesteryear

and in came a new way of working.

Farming today is becoming big business.

In the grain dryer of the store, which is electrically operated,

one man can do the work previously done by many.

Today, the food and farming industry in the UK

is worth over £100 billion,

and farmer Dean Ryder is a product of those changing times.

He works his modern, mechanised farm

close to Portadown and Granny McCann's.

And I have to tell you, milking the cows

certainly wasn't like this in my granny's time,

I can tell you that.

-So, the milking part.

-Yes, Gloria.

This is actually where the milking process

takes place on a daily basis.

Three times a day, approximately 175 cows go through this facility.

It's a long time since all of the hand stuff, isn't it?

And I think it's like anything else,

like technology in any other business in the world.

You know, technology in our business has come on a lot.

But while labour-saving techniques have helped farmers like Dean

keep their head above water,

the old rural way of life has been transformed,

and nowhere can this be seen more

than in the shape of Dean's old family farmhouse

that still stands in the yard as a monument to a passing age.

What date is this?

1600s, theory would have it.

But we can trace it back

within five generations of our family to 1830.

-All farmers?

-All farmers.

I'm the fifth generation of farmers on this farm.

So really it'd be your great, great, great-grandfather

-who bought it originally?

-It would, yes.

My grandfather's great-grandfather

probably purchased this and three acres in 1830.

This house is actually built from clay and straw,

and it's actually mud-walled and it was originally thatched.

I'll get you a photograph of the house

during the construction of the new house.

You can see bricks and sand and timber.

So, that was obviously dated in around 1951.

And what do you remember about living in this house?

Because, presumably, it was pretty cramped?

Basically, we made our own fun

via board games and very little television.

It was always warm in the winter time

because the walls were three feet wide.

It was cold in the summertime.

I think it was a fantastic house to live in as a child.

Now, clearly, you've not knocked this lovely building down.

You've kept it all these generations.

What are you going to do with it?

I think possibly in coming years,

if I end up processing my own milk into a product

like cheese and butter, it'd probably be the ideal site.

Albeit, yes, you wouldn't like to knock the house down,

but some decisions have to be made.

I have a funny feeling you will never knock this down.

This is too much part of your history.

I imagine you're probably right.

The biggest effect of this agricultural technology

has been on rural jobs.

As the amount of manual labour needed on farms got less and less,

people started to leave the countryside in their droves.

Indeed, I was one of them.

Following my dream of becoming a journalist

and moving to the big city.

BBC World Service.

The impact on villages and hamlets was, however, devastating,

leading to some rural settlements

to become nothing more than ghost towns.

But then in the '80s, something odd happened,

because the process of decline started to reverse,

as people working in the cities

suddenly craved a bit more of a tranquil way of life.

And they were also willing to pay for it.

The commuter village was born,

and Hillsborough, where I've now arrived,

is a prime example.

The history of this village dates back to the 1600s,

and it's a bit posh, if the truth be told.

So posh that it's the Queen's home when she's in Northern Ireland.

This is Hillsborough Castle.

It's not actually a castle, but a Georgian mansion,

and the Queen has to share it with over 13,000 visitors a year.

Now, I know a lot about this place,

because Hillsborough is not just a village fit for royalty.

It was also my family home for over ten very happy years.

You know, for example, this pub here,

my daughter Caron used to work in here on a Saturday,

and, of course, many days were spent in here

having lunch and it was kind of a focal point

for a lot of local people.

This village gave the family everything, and yet,

I was only 14 minutes away

from the city of Belfast where I worked.

So, it was a great combination between, you know, rural

and yet a sophistication about the village

that give you everything that you needed.

Throughout the 1980s and '90s,

commuter villages all over the country

from Dunton Green to Uppermill

flourished as new developments began to pop up everywhere.

Not everybody was happy, though,

as the precious green belts established back in the '50s

were under increased strain.

I feel there's plenty of other building land available

without building on the green belt.

This movement out of the city shows no sign of slowing,

especially in England,

where the rural population is actually set to increase by 6%

over the next decade.

I've come to see this trend for myself

in one of Hillsborough's most desirable developments,

which is called Governor's Gate.

This is a new version of country living - rural suburbs,

where the distinction between rural and urban life

is becoming increasingly blurred.

Proudly showing me around is estate agent Mark Leinster.

See, the thing is, Mark,

I lived here for many years in the village, and yet,

when I was here, this would've been all farmland, wouldn't it?

Yes. It would've been, yes.

Was the idea to keep the architecture tasteful

-and within that period?

-In keeping with the period, very much so.

-Yeah.

The beauty of it is that there's such a mixed bag of housing

in the development.

There's apartments for people who would be downsizing.

There are more modest town houses

and semidetached for the first-time buyers and professionals,

and then, like this little select area of four houses

would be more for the larger family market, you know?

I have to say, I'm impressed. I wonder how much they cost.

-What sort of price range?

-Well, they would vary now.

This particular property here is on the market apparently at 395,000.

I'm going to stop you there.

You wouldn't even get a one-bed apartment in London for that.

-So I hear, so I hear.

-I think we better go and have a look.

-What do you think?

-Let's go have a look.

-Yeah, yeah.

I'll lead the way. There's a brochure for you.

-Ever the salesman, eh?

-Absolutely. Always.

-Come on through.

-This looks so lovely. Lovely entrance hall.

So, you've got your little snug sitting room here on the left.

Could be dining room or you could use this as a dining room,

whenever you choose.

This is a long way from Granny McCann's country cottage.

The kitchen/dining/living area is almost as big as her entire house.

What do you think people are looking for these days?

Because there are people who've enjoyed city life

-or had to be in the cities because of their work.

-Yeah.

Do you think they're now looking for a more rural way of life?

I think people like both.

Hillsborough's appeal really is that it is a semi-rural village,

as such, but still, you're very handy to getting on the motorway

if you're going to Belfast, which is 20 minutes down the road,

and you've got all your amenities

within a short drive or a short stroll away,

so that really is the appeal.

I suppose when you analyse it all,

the people who live here aren't exactly leading a rural life,

because they have a very sophisticated village

like Hillsborough.

But, nevertheless, they are near the city, so it's that balance

as a kind of a hybrid.

So, in a way, the people here are getting the best of both worlds.

I find it sad to leave Hillsborough, I do love it so much,

but as I head back into the countryside,

I do wonder what my old granny would make of it today.

Is it really a rural village

or is it somewhere people with a bit of money

pretend to be living the rural lifestyle?

For the final couple I'm meeting on my journey,

this authenticity gap is something they're trying to bridge.

Steve, Claire and their little daughter Lyra are living off grid,

which means they generate their own electricity,

and their eventual aim

is to be almost entirely self-sufficient.

There are currently over 75,000 people in the UK

living off grid,

and Steve and Claire have been so successful

in their version of country life

that eco-tourists come from all over the world

to stay with them and learn from their experiences.

In the foothills of the Mourne Mountains,

they're doing their best to live the good life.

A goat?

This is sheer folly. It's just won't work!

You're... You're totally insane!

Jerry, we've never been saner in all our lives.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I've got three hundredweight of spuds to put in.

-Hi, Claire and Steve.

-Hey.

-Hello.

I have to say, I've been looking forward to meeting you.

Marvellous. How are you? Hi. Really good to see you.

So, this is the famous cottage?

-Yep.

-Yes.

-And how old is this one?

-It was built in about 1840.

-Yes.

-It was originally thatched.

When we got here, the thatch was still up there under the tin,

but it was too far gone to save, unfortunately.

-And very expensive to replace.

-Very expensive.

-I'm dying to see what you're doing, eco-wise.

-Want to come in?

Lovely, thank you.

Right, so a very, very cosy kitchen.

Now, so, this would be the original entrance?

Yes. And this is the kitchen.

The original range is in here still.

-You inherited that one?

-We did, yes.

Yes, bedroom through there and then we have a little office

and a bathroom at the other end of the house.

-This is the extension that we've added to the house.

-Right.

-What you've added personally?

-Yes.

-Yep.

It's strange looking round Claire and Steve's smallholding.

In many ways, it retains the traditional values

that my grandmother would've been so proud of.

I do wonder, though, how much of a good life it is.

Being honest, I know I would find it very hard

to let go of the trappings of modern life.

So, what is it that appeals to you about this old style of life?

It's just feels a lot simpler. It's slower.

You have to look at things more and just go with the seasons

and feeling of the place.

And the people who lived here originally

lived in a very similar way to us.

They had some chickens, they kept a couple of pigs from time to time.

-And pheasants, yeah.

-Yeah. Rabbits. They grew some veg.

-Yeah.

And in a way, a lot of what we do is similar to that,

-but we have the kind of benefit of...

-Technology.

..modern technology to make it possible.

And I must admit upfront, I'm nontechnical,

-but can you just show me on the computer...

-Yeah.

..what exactly is happening here?

860 watts, which isn't a huge amount.

-Coming in?

-Coming in. And we've only 24 watts going out.

Does this bank just build up and build up and build up?

We've a big battery bank out in the shed there

which is enough to keep us going for about five days.

You just monitor the weather all the time before you do anything.

If it's really windy, or really sunny, do all the washing,

do all the drying, get it all out of the way.

When did you add this on?

We built this two years ago.

It's built from straw that comes from a mile away.

The clay came out of the ground 500 yards away.

Most of the timber is from down the road.

-And did you do it all yourselves?

-Yes.

-Mm-hm.

What about the toilet arrangements?

Toilet arrangements, we have a compost toilet outside.

We used to have an inside composting toilet, too,

-and we now have a flushing toilet.

-A flushing toilet!

And is that to do with your family, people coming to stay, saying,

like, "I'm not going outside to your compost toilet"?

-We have one of two, yes.

-Yes.

-I can't name names.

-THEY LAUGH

I have to say,

if I was the grandparent looking after the child,

I would want a flushing toilet as well.

I can sympathise with your mothers.

Well, it's nearly the end of my journey,

so what home truths have I discovered

about living in the countryside,

and how much has it changed since the Beveridge Report 75 years ago?

It's always been a place of extremes, I guess -

of real poverty at one end of the spectrum

and posh pampering at the other.

And that's been reflected in the property people have lived in,

past and present.

But what unites everybody

is a desire to preserve a simpler way of life

that they feel brings them closer to nature.

And even when they experience loss, they fight back and survive,

which I can certainly relate to.

And so I've come back to where I started my journey,

at my granny's old farm on the Selsion Moss

to ensure that something of mine will always be here,

in a corner of the country.

Well, as you see, I'm complete with spade,

and although this was my mother's home,

my father used to love coming out here,

and so Charlie, as he was known, Charlie loved hydrangeas.

So, I thought as a memory to all the gorgeous people

who used to live here that I would plant

one of these lovely hydrangeas in memory of my dad,

my mum, who lived here, my granny who gave us so much in every sense.

I like the idea of planting trees or flowers in memory of people.

Well, good memories.

# Oh, he lives in a house A very big house in the country

# He's got a fog in his chest

# So he needs a lot of rest in the country

# He doesn't drink, smoke, laugh Takes herbal baths in the country

# You should come to no harm on the animal farm in the country

# Ooh, la-la-la. #