​Spooky Little Devon Villages

There is nothing quite as unnerving as driving through an isolated, ancient village and having the inhabitants stop what they are doing and stare at you. I remember driving through one village and stopping to take a picture of a particularly interesting church in one village. I parked the car and sidestepped the village drunk who was lying in the bus shelter, which now passed as the local public toilets and headed towards the church. I do not know whether I looked particularly suspicious but several housewives actually came out of their front doors and stood in the street chatting and watching me like I was some sort of anti-superstar.
    This behaviour intrigued me.

    I began to tell people of my experiences and I found that just about everyone I knew had had strange experiences in spooky little Devon villages, but there was one village, that will not be named,  kept appearing in these tales.
    One friend ‘B’ told me that he had driven through the village late one night and seen a cockerel which had been hung upside down from the village crossroads.

    Another ‘B’ told me of how she was doing a bat survey of the local farms. A local farmer happily allowed her into one of her barns to search for bats. On entering the barn, to her horror, she found it was full of naked barbie dolls – some had been hung, while others mutilated. The worst thing about the visit was the farmer thinking this was normal behaviour.  

    Other elderly farmers informed me of the infamous Highwayman's Gate on the edge of the village leading into the woodlands. They had sensed such a presence of evil passing through the gate, that several of the villagers would travel miles out of their way to avoid the gate.

    Finally, doing historical research into the village I found that many years ago a well-documented hell pit opened  in the basement of the  villages hotel. 
    Some villages seem to just attract evil. However, you never know which ones they are if you are a newcomer or a 'grockel' (outsider)  who is just passing through.

    So take my advise and just drive through, with your doors locked and your eyes fixed firmly on the lane ahead.
    I used all these experiences to create my own spooky little Devon Village in Welcome To Witherleigh. Here is a small description of the village…

    ‘The lane swung around a corner and opened into a single carriageway. He drove past a row of weather-beaten houses scattered along the road and an abandoned Methodist church, its windows and doors boarded up. At the side of the road, a small sign hidden among the straggling grasses and perennial bushes, welcomed him to Witherleigh. His home for the next liturgical year.
    A young man came out of the village newsagents, its window cluttered with brightly coloured flyers. The man stood and watched Richard, his face blank and unwelcoming. Richard almost waved but stopped himself and frowned as he ran his hand through his wild, brown hair instead. 
    His old vicar had warned him about these isolated Devonian villages. The people are lovely, warm-hearted, and will do anything for you, once they get over the shock of seeing a newcomer.  
    Richard sighed. Nothing could be as bad as the All Saints ministry in London. 
    He drove past a young family and smiled a greeting as they waited to cross the road. Four faces stared back at him. The youngest child frowned and gripped a weather-beaten Barbie doll by the straggling remains of its once platinum blond hair. Richard felt his stomach sink as if he had just eaten one of his mother’s leaden rock cakes. He fixed a friendly smile to his face and parked his car outside the Witherleigh Day Centre. A big homemade sign burst from the window exclaiming, ‘Welcome to Witherleigh! Tea and coffee available inside’. Bunting had been strung across the front entrance to the tiny cabin-like Centre. It fluttered apathetically as a sudden wind howled through the silent village.’

Therefore, heed my warning and stay away from spooky Devon villages.

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