Model Behaviour

This month Olly Mann finds himself taken aback by his sons' niche interest...

- Olly Mann

ALL THROUGH THE long winter, one date in my diary promised the coming of spring more than any other. No, not March 27—when the clocks go forward. Nor March 20– the dawning of astrological spring. It was, of course, February 12—the annual re-opening of Bekonscot Model Village, Buckinghamshire. Have you never been? I would certainly recommend it; and not just because, as its website explains, it offers the thrill of "England as it used to be" (this promise, I would argue, could be extended to large swathes of Beaconsfield).

In my view, the world's first model village is more relevant than ever: in our Instagram age, it serves up selfie opportunities by the ton ("Look! I'm as tall as a windmill!"); it's an implicitly socially distant, entirely outdoor experience; and its 1992 decision to model all its scale replica buildings in the style of the 1930s gives it a characteristic architectural charm that seems more relatable than, say, Legoland's impressive but brash plastic recreations of Big Ben and the Sydney Opera House.

It feels like what it is: the garden extension of an eccentric Englishman (Roland Callingham), that somehow became a landmark, frequented by royalty and celebrities, spawning many imitators, without itself having the acreage to expand beyond its original offer. Nestled in a suburban street, you could easily miss it. It doesn't even have its own car park. This is all part of its appeal.