I grew up in a village and still live in one, but please do spare me the YMCA quips or Seth Armstrong impersonations. Villages have a certain reputation, and not necessarily a favourable one if Foxdale is anything to go by. But let’s not go there (literally).
The comparison of villages with towns is an interesting and thought-provoking one to make. Towns, we hear, are where all the fun is, the hustle and bustle and economic prosperity, the epicentre of wealth and financial industries. Villages, by contrast, have little to offer other than pretty grass verges, thatched cottages and local idiots, apparently. Well, that’s an old-fashioned, generic and (mostly) inaccurate statement.
Villages are about community spirit. Everyone knows everyone, though by definition that also means they know your business. You can walk through a town and be practically ‘invisible’. That has its advantages, too. But towns more often than not possess an aloofness, a clinical atmosphere which is in contrast to the warmth and cosiness so inherent with village life.
Then, of course, there are the village idiots. Every village has one. In my own village of Laxey, we operate what is known as a rota system of village idiots, and I’d be lying if I said I had never appeared on that system. Well, that’s the risk you take when you put Kylie and the Spice Girls on a jukebox more used to heavy metal and Fleetwood Mac selections. Village idiots come in many shapes and sizes, not necessarily conforming to the stereotype of Jim Trott from The Vicar of Dibley. Some just make wacky noises or frequent online community forums with daft questions a little too much.
Does this make them bad people? Quite the opposite; it adds to the character and personality of a place already bristling with quaint, picture-postcard lustre and intrigue.
While it is completely true that a town will always be the go-to place for amenities such as supermarkets and schools, villages today have a much greater number of facilities than ever before. Hairdressers, newsagents, Co-Ops, car dealerships, floor showrooms, dentists and, as covered in a recent blog, pubs, represent just a few of the businesses of my village of Laxey. And if you want to get away from the fumes of traffic, a fairly short walk will bring you to either a (clean) beach or picturesque natural countryside.
In recent years, and as an example of the ever more extreme weather patterns brought about by global warming, Laxey has suffered a number of very damaging floods, ruining homes and lives in the process and causing abject misery to all those affected. But amidst all the turmoil came the sheer community spirit for which a village - any village - is renowned. People didn’t wait for the inept politicians to come to the rescue - they dug in and helped their neighbours and friends, lending their time to conquer the cleanup operation. The local pubs offered refuge, warmth and food to those whose houses had been flooded. I’m in no way saying that in a town you would not see a similar example of human nature at its best, but the inherent closeness of a village somehow amplifies it.
And it is this I want to end this blog on. There are advantages and disadvantages of village and town life. But those who say familiarity breeds contempt are wrong - I love my village and would not live anywhere else!
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