In deepest, darkest February I packed up for a three-day road trip round a part of the country I knew very little about: Herefordshire. The English county has been making headlines recently as the stand-in for Stratford-upon-Avon in Chloé Zhao’s Hamnet, so following the hype, I accepted an invitation from Visit Herefordshire to discover the place for myself – and discover how much it has to offer an interiors-minded visitor. Herefordshire is often overlooked as a weekend destination in favour of the neighbouring Cotswolds, but the more I saw of its signature black and white villages, the less I understood why.
After a three-hour drive, we arrived in Ross-on-Wye, a market town between Gloucester and Wales. As we wound our way through streets lined with colourful buildings, the sun finally made an appearance and, feeling I could have quite easily have been in the backstreets of a Cornish village, began to feel the elation that comes from escaping the city.
I explored part of Ross-on-Wye’s Vintage & Design Shopping Trail, though on a Wednesday afternoon, the majority of the antique shops were closed with no indication when or if they’d ever be open again – so I pawed longingly at a window stacked with old books on ghosts, ghouls and witches hoping for better luck next time. Having skipped breakfast and nearing mid-afternoon, we sought something hearty and found it at Victoria’s coffee shop. Housed in a historic listed building, it has been fitted out in a retro Art Deco-meets-goth manner (complete with tattoo parlour upstairs), and it served what can only be described as a banging Full English. Those who are not quite as ravenous will enjoy Truffles Delicatessen up the road with a classic deli-style menu, and selling local produce and pantry goods upmarket enough to make your Sarson’s Browning blush.
Next up: Baileys Home Store, which was the winner of the Lifetime Contribution Award as part of House & Garden’s Independent Shop Awards. Walking around Baileys is the equivalent of forest-bathing for retail enthusiasts; an almost meditative experience, restoring a sense of calm and true appreciation for the shop both as an experience and as an art. No photos are allowed, so you can’t capture or share the perfectly pleasing displays of homeware essentials, accessories, antiques and furniture on Instagram. You just have to be grateful for the moments you had there, encourage others to do the same and leave with a souvenir – for me that was two beautiful Japanese ceramic ramen bowls.
The Riverside at Aymestrey sits in the picturesque River Lugg valley and was our home for a couple of nights. With the constant rain, the river bank that runs alongside the old inn was fit to bursting, which all felt very DH Lawrence and added to my romantic pastoral fantasy quite nicely – and reassuringly, general manager George Parkes, didn’t seem overly concerned. Under the stewardship of George, chef patron Andy Link has turned this 16th-century inn into a sustainably run hotel and an award-winning restaurant. Everything served to us was ‘seed to table’ and had been grown and reared in the county, from the White Heron cassis in my Herefordshire Royale to the Chase GB used to pickle our salmon. We feasted on duck from Weobley (which is, incidentally, was a main location for Hamnet), Hereford beef and fresh produce from the local area and their own kitchen garden. All washed down with Sixteen Ridges wine and finished off with possibly the best sticky toffee pudding I’ve ever had, it was faultless.
Every element of The Riverside has been carefully thought through. My partner and I were greeted at our cabin by a Welly rack, golf umbrella and dog paraphernalia, all of which was suitably ‘anti-city’ and very much enjoyed the Wild Escapes eco spa experience, which includes a sauna, cold plunge and hot tub, set at the top of a track behind the cabins. The path to the spa is even gritted with recycled crushed glass straight from the pub (it’s as soft as sand, I promise), further demonstrating the hotel's sustainable ethos. There’s a small holding, too, with chickens, bees and, from March, pigs roam the old amphitheatre in the grounds. I sat in the hot tub as the rain poured down, the mist moved across the valley and geese flew across the sky – it might not be for everyone, but for me, it was idyllic.
Nicely steamed and refreshed, it was onwards to the aforementioned Weobley, where the street scenes outside Shakespeare’s family home were shot for Hamnet. With its black and white Tudor buildings lining the small, quiet high street, you can see why the film's location editors thought: ‘this will do nicely’. Outside the 13th-century village church – another location, used for the brief candlelit wedding scene – we saw a noticeboard advertising When Hamnet Came To Weobley, an exhibition at the local library from 3pm on Thursdays. It was Thursday and about 2.45pm, so off we went.
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As someone who is often on set for my work – though by no means on the same scale – I found it all fascinating. The exhibition pointed out which bits of the high street were greened out for CGI, what was built on top of existing parts and what remained as is, alongside plenty of anecdotes and photos from the villagers. The librarians told us how thrilling it was to be escorted by security through the Jacobean set to get to the local Costcutter on long August evenings, how a lot of the village extras were in fact locals, and how everyone had gathered in the high street to watch the flooding scene. A short-ish drive away was the National Trust’s Cwmmau Farmhouse, another location where you can actually spend the night. It was closed for renovations, so I padded around the outside admiringly, but it has since re-opened if you’re planning a visit.
Our next stop was Hay-on-Wye, just over the Herefordshire border into Powys, Wales. It is a charming market town with a reputation as a bookworm’s paradise. We parked outside Gay on Wye, a LBTQIA+ bookshop next to Murder & Mayhem, which had a swinging sign in the shape of a book with an old gent in a tux about to be strangled and felt terribly charming in a Midsomer Murders sort of way. We lost most of our time in Addyman Books, where I left with a lighter pocket, a heavier bag and some grumblings about how I’d only discovered the upstairs five minutes before closing.
Dinner that evening was at Tomatitos, an understated, dog-friendly tapas and wine bar that was raved about by the locals, and it did not disappoint. We’d also been told which markets not to miss: Thursday’s food market and the monthly Saturday markets with food, drink and a flea – Hay had ticked all the boxes for me already. Over a drink I planned my return trip in May, when the renowned Hay Festival takes place. With so much to offer, I had the distinct feeling that I had barely scratced the surface of Herefordshire. As we drove back to The Riverside, it dawned on me how spacious the county had felt so far, brought into light – rather ironically – by the night’s darkness, seeing only the odd light in almost an hour’s drive.
The following morning I set off for a Hamnet-inspired meeting with medical herbalist Rowan McOnegal. We sat at her kitchen table, surrounded by books and jars of botanicals, drinking a herbal tea blend that she had made herself. Rowan grows the majority of her herbs in her garden and encourages her clients to do the same, believing that, if you look after nature, it will look after you. She hosts various courses from this very table, covering history, practice and procurement in herbal medicine. We discuss all manner of things, from modern home births and Agnes’ reality of treating the plague with herbs, to her work and what got her into the field in the first place. The answer? The environment. This led onto a discussion about the intense polluting of the River Wye – an important reminder of the damage we are doing to these beautiful corners of the country. I left Rowan with a reading list and a deep desire to return to study one of her courses while staying in the Airbnb hut in her garden.
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Onwards to Ledbury, home of the famous poetry festival and Michelin-starred restaurant 33 The Homend (sadly closed during our stay) and some excellent shops including one of House & Garden’s Top 50 Independent Shops, Tinsmiths, its walls lined with brilliant posters made at local Tilley Printing letterpress. While in Ledbury, I recommend having a good poke around Ceci Paolo, a deli and lifestyle emporium, where you can pick up a loaf of Peter Cooks Bread or some new Le Creuset cookware, and get a bottle from The Wine Shed (and say hello to the owner’s lovely Labrador). Up another alley is Hus & Hem, a colourful smörgåsbord of Scandi homeware and gifts, and its neighbour The Ledbury Collective – a pocket-sized shop over two floors with around 20 different local sellers. There are some particularly charming vintage collectible children’s bits to be found, though I left with an antique tureen.
The Feathers Hotel provided a bed for the night. Despite its vast size, the hotel's buzzing lounge area was busy from dawn ’til dusk. An added bonus: it was dog-friendly, too, and did a good cooked breakfast. We decided on dinner at Sitara, lauded as ‘the best Indian restaurant in Herefordshire’. As we ate, two gentlemen in rugby shirts sat next to us, remarking how they must have been there at least 100 times – and I could see why.
On our final morning, a friend and lecturer in the area recommended we visit St Mary’s Church, Kempley, just outside Ledbury. The little church, its exterior washed in a biscuit-icing pink, has the oldest and most complete timber roof in England, and some of the best-preserved medieval wall paintings, which have been painstakingly restored. I thought how jolly lucky we are to be able to swan into these places, entirely unattended, have a good nose-about, and a sit for as long as we like, all free of charge.
As I edged my way into a vast puddle on a country lane in the middle of nowhere, assessing whether our measly hire car’s engine would survive the crossing, I felt London’s metaphorical fog lifting. Perhaps it is these vast skies that give Herefordshire’s business owners and creatives room to dream. There was a hint of magic, too, not just on the bookshelves stacked with lore and esotericism, but in the spirit of the many wonderful women I met there, from shopkeepers and café owners to herbalists and volunteers. I am, by no means, a Herefordshire expert – there is still so much more to see – but I certainly experienced the magic and allure of this county.
