Load of Bull

John has some good stories.

His family came to the farm in 1960 in, he says, a fleet of 15 lorries from their former residence in the hilly countryside around Huddersfield.

He will have been in his twenties then and prepared for the hard work, day and night in, day and night out that goes with a milk producing unit.

Located on the flat, featureless Vale of York the contrast in topography and in the composition of the soils could not have been more different to the foothills of the Pennines. In fact, with just a three mile direct road journey to the centre of the historic City of York itself the surroundings could be described as cosmopolitan.

Before the construction of the busy ring road, the approaching margins of the out of town shopping centres and suburban sprawl it will have been fairly tranquil, just off the Malton Road and in those times just carrying local traffic and not the constant stream of vehicles generated by a growing population and its needs.

John gave us a tour of the farm. I use the term farm loosely now, not out of disrespect or ignorance as I am a townie by birth, but because only the buildings and the spirit of the place remain.

The whitewashed farmhouse is still the family dwelling but having made the decision to come out of agriculture willingly some 15 years ago rather than being forced or pushed out by the economic climate or foreclosure by a previously sympathetic and friendly bank John is now the very congenial host of a compact group of holiday cottages.

I was given three well leafed through photo albums, on trust, which provided a pictorial record of the transition from working dairy farm to leisure facility.

It had been a major project in 1999 and for the ensuing three years to convert the sturdy but plain and functional barns, granary, stores and outbuildings into viable holiday accommodation.

The scale of work must have seemed daunting at the time and particularly over the early stages when demolition and dismantling will have reduced the amenity, value and habitability of the whole site to a nominal amount.

There must have been many moments of considerable doubt over the project when surrounded by skeletal roof frameworks, tumbled down walls and mounds of rubble and soil.

Nevertheless, the photos show happy, although grubby, faces amongst the wider family from senior members to young children. John is at the centre of operations.

Trades were employed for the critical tasks which were under the supervision of the Local Authority as part or the planning change of use but the family provided the labouring and graft.

The crew yard had to be manually cleared of decades of compacted soil and waste. The best structural timbers were salvaged for re-use similarly the more durable handmade bricks. Single storey stables were extended skywards to provide first floor rooms. Catslide roofs were built out to provide additonal head height from previously tight eaves. Horse stalls were turned into lounges and kitchens. Split opening plank doors and slatted openings in battered rough unplaned wood were exchanged for woodstained timber and double glazing.

The buildings which had been large open vaulted spaces took a mezzanine floor thereby doubling up useable areas. There was change but it was also important to retain character features of tie bar plates, small arrow slit vents and the external stone flagged steps up to the former granary floor.

Whilst the ghost of the former buildings are still present it did take me some time to orientate the faded photographs against their re-invention as comfortable and quaint cottages.

The old barn sleeps six in luxury with a cavernous living area and farmhouse kitchen as well as the concessions to modern expectations of good sized bedrooms and bathroom facilities. The granary accommodates 5, the old stable block 4 and our billet for the week is the baby of the lot with a double bedroom and connecting nursery complete with cot. Our 18 year old son was initially fearful of where he would be sleeping until a wider opening up of the small bedroom revealed a single bed adjacent to the crib.

We look out onto the old crew yard, now a manicured and lush green lawn and with the trickling sound of a fountain just breaking up the distant noise of traffic on the York Ring Road.

I am just thinking about going for a jacuzzi and sauna in the brick and pantile building set apart from the cottage courtyard.

John tells me it was, in his farming days, the Bull pen with a bad tempered brute in residence and lording it up over the rest of the stock until called upon to service and replenish the numbers of the herd. I can relate to that and will contemplate it whilst wallowing amongst the jet streamed bubbles and stretched out on the Swedish pine on a steamy and sultry sunday morning.