Grand Designs UK: Converting two derelict barns took a jaw-dropping 20 years

REVIEW: Who has the patience to work on a home for two decades? Sue and Martin of South Devon, it seems, because that’s how long this Grand Designs UK build took. Their project to convert two derelict barns began in 1999 and has only just been signed off by local authorities.

Presenter Kevin McCloud likes to go back when things are sorted, but heavens, he had to wait 20 years for this one, which is a fitting finale to the current series.

We get a flashback – a much younger McCloud meets up with the couple outside two of the most ramshackle barns we’ve ever seen. They are ruins from the 1600s and 1850s, which is perfect, because Sue and Martin want a house that is “rooted to the land”.

And their build has to be environmental, so they want to recycle everything and eliminate waste. But it’s very dark, damp and cold – it rains mud inside the ruins – and right from the start this looks like an absolute nightmare (even the local builder takes one look and says it’s his worst nightmare).

McCloud is having trouble visualising the end result, and he’s usually good at this stuff. That’s partly because there are no architectural plans for the interior – they will make it up as they go. But we do know the 1600s barn will be rebuilt using the existing stone, and given a thatched roof. The adjoining 1850s barn will have a slate roof, huge new windows and a double garage.

And the budget? The old barns and land cost them £125,000 (NZ$256,000), and building costs are estimated at a very small £150,000 (NZ$307,000). But this was 20 years ago.

Sue, Martin (a freelance writer and now project manager) and their two boys move into a caravan on site. They anticipate it will be for eight months, but they end up spending two years in there – that’s two very cold winters.

The architect Adrian and his wife Sam, who calls herself a “spiritual homemaker” are right into this. Neither work from plans. It’s all very ethereal. It’s never a bad idea to consider what makes you happy. But, actually, what’s needed here is practical help.

Of course, there are eco compromises with the materials. They have to use concrete, but also add some more eco-friendly lime and sand for mortar, which gets washed away when it rains, because it takes so long to set.

And there’s not enough water reed in England, so they have to import the thatch from Turkey, which is not very environmental. They use natural wool insulation but bite the bullet with expensive double-glazed, argon-filled windows for added insulation. The timber framing is solid oak.

Too long and too expensive

Long story short – everything takes too long and costs too much. Martin lets the builders go because he can’t afford them. Family help instead. “It’s not going to take years,” Martin says, optimistically. Spoiler alert – it does.

They move into the house while it’s still a work in progress, which is tough and Sue says she would have preferred to have stayed in the caravan longer.

“There’s no water. It is hard work. As rewarding as self-build is, it is also completely exhausting. There are times when you just feel like you can see the end of the tunnel; you can see the light there, but boy, it is not fun living in a tunnel.”

And that was the first Grand Designs reveal. Essentially, nothing much to show. It was little more than a shell.

McCloud arrives 20 years later

McCloud strolls up to the house through an orchard full of trees – they were just sticks in the ground two decades ago.

And the house? It has finally been signed off – they have the completion certificate –and it’s well settled into the landscape. “The house commands the hillside, as though it has been here forever, which it sort of has,” McCloud says.

The limestone walls are aging nicely; the green oak around the door and window joinery has weathered to silver, and the thatched roof is sprouting ferns. They have beautiful gardens close to the house. It is seriously impressive.

The main living area is on the first floor. It’s a large, open-plan space with all the structural elements exposed, which adds to the character. Martin built the kitchen himself. There are a lot of reclaimed doors and materials, in keeping with their desire to minimise waste.

And the house is not small – there’s a rabbit warren of bedrooms (five) with unexpected nooks and crannies, and staircases (three), and some “interesting” wall colours, including bright green, watermelon, lemon and blue (not seen in the photos we have).

Nothing has been chosen because it is “on-trend”, which gives the space a somewhat dated feel. But what does that matter? This build was never about being fashionable. There were far more important issues at stake.

The most interesting elements are the occasional places where we see the raw, textural cob walls next to the untreated oak. The beauty of the craftsmanship shines through.

“I had reservations about Sue and Martin’s evolutionary approach to building,” McCloud says. “But it’s allowed the place to morph and assume new roles as time goes on.”

The older back barn is like a large art studio, lined with books, but it’s the beamed vaulted ceiling that captures the eye. It is quite magnificent.

What would you pay for this in NZ? Not $717,000

And the final cost? Despite the build taking so long, largely because they did so much DIY, it still only cost them £350,000 (NZ$717,000) all up. That’s about £75,000 more than the budget of 20 years ago, but it’s still cheap, considering what they got. What can you build in New Zealand for that? A tiny terrace house with a lot of neighbours in a pretty average suburb.

We hear how the house came into its own during lockdown, when their two adult sons returned to the fold. The couple now have a grandson, and Sue’s dad lives with them. It’s an enviable, multi-generational lifestyle. McCloud calls it an “eco mothership, providing a safe haven for the family”.

We’ll leave the last words to Sue: “It’s been rich, our life here. There’s no other way to describe it.”