Illustration by Adam Lowe

Words by Jim Pyett 

With housing prices in Cornwall soaring ever higher, Stranger meets the homedwellers who have found an alternative solution to getting a roof over their heads.

We need food, water, and sleep. We need a roof over our heads. These are basic human needs. For the majority in the UK, demands for the former are met with relative ease, yet when it comes to where to live, Britain's young people are faced with an often grim and seemingly insurmountable reality. Cornwall is no different: just as magnetic for a holiday or a lazy summer as it is for putting down roots, the region is fraught with long-term housing issues.  The property boom that has gripped the country since the turn of the millennium, along with an expensive and highly competitive rental market, have left much of our generation stumped, racking their brains for realisable alternatives. Add to this inflated Council Tax and utilities - the Southwest's water is the nation's dearest - and the predicament worsens. It is not just those who wish to reach that hallowed first rung of the property ladder who are afflicted, but those who simply wish to live. It is not as if young people in Cornwall don't work, earn, try, or care, yet they find themselves at the centre of a housing crisis that typifies a huge rupture in British culture.

House prices have soared nationally by 100% since 1999. In Cornwall they have risen by more than 150%, putting them 6% above the national average. It is perpetually in the top three least affordable counties in the country. Now the average house price in the county exceeds £200,000, some nine-and-a-half times an average regional wage which falls 14% shy of earnings around the rest of the country. That means you need to be taking home £52,000 to consider buying. In London, it's £82,000. Consequently, young people find themselves excluded from one of life's supposedly most important aspects. Even with John Prescott's pledge of £22 billion for sustainable communities and affordable housing to plug the gap, the future seems far from bright. Yet this represents just the tip of the availability/ affordability iceberg. »

Well over 5,000 households in Cornwall await housing suitable for their needs. Even with the most ardent property development and lavish promises from the government, the reality for many residents is poles apart from the lush idyll largely associated with Cornwall. Is it not then a simple case of supply and demand?

Bjorn Howard, Chief Executive of Coastline Housing, an independent housing initiative based in Camborne, disagrees. "The issue is more complex," he says. "Wage gaps mean changes in the way people are living. For example, increasing numbers of young people are living with their parents." In fact, 22% of 25 to 29-year-olds in Cornwall live at home, compared to 18% for the rest of the country. Matthew Owen, Head of Research at Cornwall Business School concurs: "Low wage rates are a big problem. You have to step back and ask why. There is the preponderance of low-paying jobs and a reliance on unskilled labour. To make things worse, there are no starter homes."

Illustration by Adam Lowe

Meet Simon Ormerod. A slight man of a certain age, he's all cheeky eyes and boundless enthusiasm, his soft northern drawl punctuated with big belly laughs. He bought a modest north Cornish quarry over 25 years ago, where he has since built an underground house whose drawing board was the back of an envelope. "I wanted a no maintenance house that would last 100 years and that I could drive a JCB on the roof of." Built from salvaged materials, the house is entirely sustainable. He generates his own electricity, heating, biomass fuel - he even built a hydro-electric generator. It costs a pound a week to run. After his applications were continually refused, a lengthy battle with the local planning department eventually paid off. "They had the power to pull the whole fucking lot down," he says. His resolve paid dividends: an example of sustainability working in harmony with affordability. "We need to reduce our needs, that's all," he goes on, "And never throw anything away."

Simon's dedication cannot help to inspire, even if his commitment maybe unrealistic for some. Yet his message is one to take heed of: sacrifice can be more rewarding than indulgence. 'Little C' conservative bureaucracy doesn't help. The planning issue is a slippery one, one which Mari and Rufus Maurice know only too well. Three years ago they bought their granite barn at auction, without planning permission, and have since established a sustainable working plot, where cheeks are red with wind, and toes are nibbled by the resident Kiwi pigs. "We are self-motivated, self-sufficient, self-employed people who are honouring the land," says Mari, who runs recycled clothing business, One's Elf. The planning department have dismissed their case for a live/work unit without what seems to be due attention. "We've been marginalised for being forward-thinking and progressive," says Mari.