What does the word ‘collective’ suggest to you? Could it perhaps be a commune, or a community-wide version of? The good life? Perhaps it conjures up a nightmarish Stalinist proposal for a new approach to agriculture? To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect as I approached the village of Woolsery in North Devon. Had I even gained weight? The signs were ambiguous. There was a Woolfardisworthy, but also a Woolsery – and it turned out to be the same place (due to a 17th century saying, it seems). The strangeness had begun.
And it didn’t stop there. I had spent the past hour driving through the miles of open fields and small crumbling hamlets typical of North Devon – small clusters of cottages, a church, sometimes a small country pub or a run-down village shop struggling to stay open, but usually not. A little later in Woolsery, however, there was a noticeable shift.
Suddenly there was a chic, immaculately kept little pub (the kind that serves craft cocktails); a chic village shop with a post office; a gourmet fish and chip shop; and a meticulous Georgian villa (the Gothickally named Wulfheard Manor). There was also an adjacent 150-acre organic farm, and a sleek portfolio of historic cottages intended to accommodate visitors.
Here, in the wilds of Devon, lay a little spot of almost Stepford-like perfection; like some kind of spotless toy town, or a movie set. Nowhere was a crooked slate tile, a hanging beam, a crumbling mantelpiece. At first I didn’t really know what to think about it all.
But when you find out that all of the above – now rebranded as The Collective at Woolsery – is owned by a social media multi-millionaire from California’s Silicon Valley, things start to make a little more sense.
Far from a brash businessman looking for a pet project, Michael Birch – who co-founded the mega-successful social networking website Bebo with his wife Xochi in 2005 – has a deep-rooted bond with Woolsery. In fact, his journey has been something of a circle: his great-grandparents built the original village shop and his grandmother was born above it. Many of his family still live in the village and for him, even from his base in far-away San Francisco, it is a place full of happy childhood memories.
“The original motivation was The Farmers Arms pub,” he explains. “It had been empty for a number of years and there was a plan to turn it into apartments. For me the pub is the heart of the village and it was unthinkable that Woolsery wouldn’t have the pub I had known all my life. Xochi and I were able to help, so that’s where it all started. There was no plan for the Collective from the beginning, it just snowballed when other buildings in the village were presented to us in various states of disrepair.”
They are certainly not in decline now. The Old Forge, where I stayed, was filled with neat little touches (exposed beams and brickwork, two wood-burning stoves – one, rather delightful, in the bedroom) alongside every possible mod con. There is a turndown service if you order breakfast, which is delivered in a wicker basket the next morning. And it’s not like any hotel breakfast you’ve experienced before: mine consisted of nettles, served as a fritter with spiced fermented vegetables, nuts and seeds, plus a side dish of sweet clover and vanilla yoghurt.
The farm-to-table concept is certainly nothing new, but rarely is it taken as seriously as it is here. Not content with its food being merely ‘organic’, The Collective grows its food in a way that mimics nature. For example, the edible forest takes over the natural growing environment with intensively planted root crops, ground covers (such as herbs), fruit bushes, vines, low-canopy fruit trees and high-canopy nut trees that retain the nitrogen that nourishes the soil.
Visitors are welcome and undoubtedly surprised, because this does not look like a normal farm. The crops (they have animals too – the Collective may be eco-friendly, but they are not vegetarian) all grow together, along with an abundance of flowers (used in cooking, drinks and liquors) and plenty of food.
This might all be starting to look a bit like The Village The prisoner, but – perhaps strangest of all – the overall result is quite the opposite. Far from Stepford-like, Woolsery is a happy, thriving town, with a sense of purpose and community, which managed to avoid the exodus of locals unable to find work, as experienced by so many of its neighbors.
Woolsarians are genuinely cheerful and welcoming (no rictus grin “Be see you’s” here), chatting with visitors and guiding them through the warren of small streets when they inevitably get lost. Local gardens are opened to the public every year; there is a small primary school; the village hall hosts local arts and crafts shows; and there is an annual Street Fayre. Miss Marple would feel right at home.
According to the Birches, the village was always thriving, and they are keen to point out that The Collective certainly did not ‘save’ Woolsery. Nevertheless, it certainly contributed to keeping it that way. Local producers (vegetables, pastries, honey) have a point of sale in the Collective’s beautifully renovated village shop and post office – essential facilities that are fast disappearing in the south-west villages. And because the Collective’s accommodation can only accommodate twenty people at a time, Woolsery is unlikely to be overrun by tourists. It is, you might say, the perfect balance.
And if, on a rural retreat in immaculate Woolsery, you start longing for a bit of natural chaos, it’s easy to find. North Devon is a wild, windswept landscape, perfect for invigorating winter walks. The coastline – just a few miles from Woolsery – is as dramatic as it gets, with sand dunes, waterfalls and coastal cliffs.
At Hartland Point, take a rollercoaster ride to the sea, where the spectacularly twisted rock layers have served as a convenient backdrop for smugglers and destroyers, both real and fictional (they last appeared in the 2020 film Rebekah). Nature positively teems there. There are rock pools full of crabs, wading birds forage along the shoreline, porpoises and gray seals swim along the shore, the rustling of starlings fills the air and wild orchids bloom in the surrounding fields.
In contrast, after a day out in the wilderness, Woolsery feels pleasantly cozy, its cleanliness and attention to detail a welcome comfort. This is perhaps an experiment that shouldn’t work – and yet it does. I can certainly imagine that other struggling towns will follow suit: They could start checking the parish registers for Silicon Valley philanthropists.
Essentials
Anna Selby was a guest at the Woolsery Collective (01237 431 238), which has rooms from £275 per night, suites from £325 and cottages from £450.