In 10 years, this is only the third in our non-series on Rhuthun/Ruthin villages... the first dates back to 2008 and the second to 2010
It's bang in the middle of Denbighshire. It's barely eight minutes by car from Rhuthun/Ruthin. Yet, it seems an eternity away. It's a different world and not always in a good way. The climb from Rhuthun to windswept Clawddnewydd is a long five miles, via a twisting, narrowing, rolling, often messy, often watery B-road. The trudge presents few overtaking opportunities for the motorist. The misfortune of being stuck behind several stock wagons or tractors can double the journey time.
Compared to Rhuthun, the weather in Clawdd is usually a degree or two cooler in summer and more in winter. Often with first snow from the second week of November and well above the snowline, when Rhuthun is nippy, Clawdd can be biting. Yet, in spite of its inclemency, the people of Clawdd reserve their winter mocking for those luckless folk in Cerrigydrudion. In reality, while the nine miles of road separating the two rises high, there's little difference in altitude between the upland settlements. Clawdd weighs is at 850 ft above sea level.
Were Clawdd to be on the east of Rhuthun then it may just stand a chance. As it is, living in Clawdd just adds time and inconvenience when considering any sort of longer trip. Rhuthun itself is just about on the fringe of the Liverpool-Chester commuter area. Living in Clawdd has the drawback of being just that little bit too distant.
The fact is, Clawddnewydd is somewhat isolated. If you're looking for a rural bolthole well away from the city then Clawdd can fit the bill—as long as you don't wish to commute out regularly. Large shops, entertainment or work are all simply too far. Its community-run shop closes at 6.00 (midday on Saturday) so running out of sugar—or anything—means a 20-minute round trip to Rhuthun.
Estate agents will tell you otherwise but the village is a plain one. The village has an unfinished feel to it. The pond has looked stagnant and slightly neglected for years. The village pub's surrounded by an unforgiving sea of concrete. There's a new house in the centre surrounded by vacant & untidy land and a builder's yard. Chimneys discharge winter smoke—there's no gas here. Drear ribbon housing lines the main road with new-builds behind, some imaginative, some not. The houses huddle together in a vain attempt to keep the elements at bay.
When translated, even the name Clawddnewydd seems uninspiring, unromantic, earthy, even somehow vulgar. Clawdd can mean ditch, hedge or bank. Quite where any of the cloddiau are, old or new, is guesswork. Perhaps this is something to do with an ancient upland deer or game hunting park.
Yet, in spite of all this, or perhaps because of it, there is one thing in Clawdd's favour that you rarely find elsewhere in the area. Definitely not here in town and certainly not in the more middle-class villages that ring Rhuthun. Indeed, so rare is it these days that you have to wonder at it. The village has a thriving and active community soul.
In a time when people are less and less inclined to bond or join anything, Clawddnewydd has a special vibrancy. This in no way compensates for the village's shortcomings but it does offer some consolation.
Which community of its size can raise cash to build a new community hall? In the mid-1990s, Clawddnewydd did, with construction starting in 1995 after almost three years' worth of fund-raising. Which community of its size can ensure that the hall is regularly used, from indoor bowls to whist to school events to the home of the Ruthin Christian Fellowship, not to mention wedding receptions and other activities. In the face of the closure in 1994 of its post office and store, which community can start a co-operative from scratch, extending its range of goods? In the mid-1990s, Clawdd accomplished that, too. As an aside, Clawddnewydd supported a second shop that closed in 1987. And which community can rally round in just 10 weeks—yes, 10 weeks—to buy the ailing (excuse the pun) village pub? This Clawddnewydd achieved in 2014.
Yet, there remain those within the community who feel no connection with it. Farmers run everything. Until the community takeover, you entered the village pub at your peril. You felt as welcome as a lone petunia in an onion patch or a priest in a brothel. The need to adapt has changed the pub's atmosphere somewhat. Not everyone is involved or wishes to be and this nevertheless makes the community achievements all the more remarkable.
The opposite side of this particular coin is that a traditional, agrarian-led, rural-based focus that has to battle against the environment can become insular. There is only toleration of strangers and, for incomers, often nothing more welcoming. The first English speakers moved in during the 1960s and subsequently (and understandably) there has been a natural resistance towards others. The village is currently well over half Welsh speaking but to a degree has had to adapt. But not always willingly.
Built from 1987 on Clawddnewydd Farm land, the estate of about three dozen bungalows called Trem y Coed was at the hands of builders from the English Black County. The development was marketed not locally but in the English midlands. It resulted in a high concentration in Clawdd of West Midlands English, many of whom were retired or semi-retired. It was seen as something of an invasion. Many in the community opposed the development and, for that, they had the support of Cymdeithas yr Iaith Gymraeg. Plans in the 1990s to extend the estate into the next northerly-most field were vehemently opposed and subsequently refused. Ironically, the community-won facilities within the village (pub, shop, hall) mean that Clawdd is actually earmarked for future growth under the Denbighshire development plan. The upgrading in 1994 of the Clawddnewydd sewerage works, a retrospective move to catch up with development, will help further expansion.
Slowly, the serried ranks of the Trem y Coed estate have begun to reflect the cultural and linguistic diversity of the area but it has been a long time in gestation, as Black County Nineheads slowly give way to the Cymry Cymraeg.
Yet, housing sticks in Clawddnewydd because of its rural isolation and because of the 'feel' of the village. The market was metaphorically dead in 2013 (two sales) at a time when there were properties aplenty on the market and when Rhuthun had matched the pre-credit crunch sales peak (2007). Property in Clawdd, when it moves, sells on price and price alone (according to local estate agents). Is there little other motivation for buying in Clawdd? This does mean that younger families can often afford to buy, even though the main disadvantage is that the nearest primary school is over a mile away in Clocaenog. But Clawdd families do have a knock-on effect on that school, one that also bucks the general rural trend by being full, a rare achievement in the Welsh upland hinterland.
Only six years ago, on October 22nd, 2009, a family moved from a three-bed det bungalow on Trem y Coed in Clawdd to an almost identical three-bed det bungalow on Parc Brynhyfryd. They sold in Clawdd for £220,000 and bought in Rhuthun for £200,000.
What has happened subsequently demonstrates a marked decline in the popularity of Clawddnewydd. Fortunes have reversed and, if anything, Parc Brynhyfryd is even more sought-after, certainly not Clawddnewydd. Once, people may have preferred the rural idyll but not any longer (or they're being more selective).
The Clawddnewydd community sometimes unease at English incomers—mewnfudwyr—occasionally spills over. They can join in events and spend their money but are generally unwelcome on local committees. Local communities opposed the 2012 plans by Roberts Homes to transform the rotting Pool Park hospital site into a phased residential village on no other grounds than keeping incomers—especially English-speakers—out. Is this a healthy way to keep community facilities afloat and the school full? Or does this simply show an independence of spirit and the importance of preserving the upland Welsh culture & way of life?
Were Clawdd to be on the east of Rhuthun then it may just stand a chance. As it is, living in Clawdd just adds time and inconvenience when considering any sort of longer trip. Rhuthun itself is just about on the fringe of the Liverpool-Chester commuter area. Living in Clawdd has the drawback of being just that little bit too distant.
Ribbon development in Clawddnewydd... with recently constructed semis
The fact is, Clawddnewydd is somewhat isolated. If you're looking for a rural bolthole well away from the city then Clawdd can fit the bill—as long as you don't wish to commute out regularly. Large shops, entertainment or work are all simply too far. Its community-run shop closes at 6.00 (midday on Saturday) so running out of sugar—or anything—means a 20-minute round trip to Rhuthun.
Estate agents will tell you otherwise but the village is a plain one. The village has an unfinished feel to it. The pond has looked stagnant and slightly neglected for years. The village pub's surrounded by an unforgiving sea of concrete. There's a new house in the centre surrounded by vacant & untidy land and a builder's yard. Chimneys discharge winter smoke—there's no gas here. Drear ribbon housing lines the main road with new-builds behind, some imaginative, some not. The houses huddle together in a vain attempt to keep the elements at bay.
Three out of this rank of five houses are for sale (one is out of view) with two unoccupied. One was brought to the market 2½ years ago and another 18 months ago. The third dropped from £200,000 to £180,000 in two months
When translated, even the name Clawddnewydd seems uninspiring, unromantic, earthy, even somehow vulgar. Clawdd can mean ditch, hedge or bank. Quite where any of the cloddiau are, old or new, is guesswork. Perhaps this is something to do with an ancient upland deer or game hunting park.
Yet, in spite of all this, or perhaps because of it, there is one thing in Clawdd's favour that you rarely find elsewhere in the area. Definitely not here in town and certainly not in the more middle-class villages that ring Rhuthun. Indeed, so rare is it these days that you have to wonder at it. The village has a thriving and active community soul.
In a time when people are less and less inclined to bond or join anything, Clawddnewydd has a special vibrancy. This in no way compensates for the village's shortcomings but it does offer some consolation.
Canolfan Cae Cymro
Which community of its size can raise cash to build a new community hall? In the mid-1990s, Clawddnewydd did, with construction starting in 1995 after almost three years' worth of fund-raising. Which community of its size can ensure that the hall is regularly used, from indoor bowls to whist to school events to the home of the Ruthin Christian Fellowship, not to mention wedding receptions and other activities. In the face of the closure in 1994 of its post office and store, which community can start a co-operative from scratch, extending its range of goods? In the mid-1990s, Clawdd accomplished that, too. As an aside, Clawddnewydd supported a second shop that closed in 1987. And which community can rally round in just 10 weeks—yes, 10 weeks—to buy the ailing (excuse the pun) village pub? This Clawddnewydd achieved in 2014.
Yet, there remain those within the community who feel no connection with it. Farmers run everything. Until the community takeover, you entered the village pub at your peril. You felt as welcome as a lone petunia in an onion patch or a priest in a brothel. The need to adapt has changed the pub's atmosphere somewhat. Not everyone is involved or wishes to be and this nevertheless makes the community achievements all the more remarkable.
Image taken in September 2015...
The opposite side of this particular coin is that a traditional, agrarian-led, rural-based focus that has to battle against the environment can become insular. There is only toleration of strangers and, for incomers, often nothing more welcoming. The first English speakers moved in during the 1960s and subsequently (and understandably) there has been a natural resistance towards others. The village is currently well over half Welsh speaking but to a degree has had to adapt. But not always willingly.
Built from 1987 on Clawddnewydd Farm land, the estate of about three dozen bungalows called Trem y Coed was at the hands of builders from the English Black County. The development was marketed not locally but in the English midlands. It resulted in a high concentration in Clawdd of West Midlands English, many of whom were retired or semi-retired. It was seen as something of an invasion. Many in the community opposed the development and, for that, they had the support of Cymdeithas yr Iaith Gymraeg. Plans in the 1990s to extend the estate into the next northerly-most field were vehemently opposed and subsequently refused. Ironically, the community-won facilities within the village (pub, shop, hall) mean that Clawdd is actually earmarked for future growth under the Denbighshire development plan. The upgrading in 1994 of the Clawddnewydd sewerage works, a retrospective move to catch up with development, will help further expansion.
For sale at Trem y Coed is this two-bed det bungalow, at just £150,000 £145,000
Slowly, the serried ranks of the Trem y Coed estate have begun to reflect the cultural and linguistic diversity of the area but it has been a long time in gestation, as Black County Nineheads slowly give way to the Cymry Cymraeg.
Noting that the two y-axes above & below are scaled very differently, house sales in Clawddnewydd, above, have struggled. There were precisely zero sales in 2008, the year properties struggled in town. As the Rhuthun market increased from 2011, so that in Clawdd reversed but note the surge in Clawdd sales in 2014, following a number of properties sticking and therefore resulting in some reductions
What has happened subsequently demonstrates a marked decline in the popularity of Clawddnewydd. Fortunes have reversed and, if anything, Parc Brynhyfryd is even more sought-after, certainly not Clawddnewydd. Once, people may have preferred the rural idyll but not any longer (or they're being more selective).
Clockwise from top left, Stryd y Brython (2 bed); Trem y Coed (3 bed); Fron Haul (3 bed); and Trem y Coed (3 bed)
Clawddnewydd is perceived as far from idyllic. Compare the 2009 situation to today's. Small two-bed detached bungalows on Trem y Coed currently sell for as little as £150,000 £145,000 [reduced on 21/9/2015]. Trem y Coed three-bed det bungalows are currently on for £170,000 to £185,000 £180,000 [reduced as of 15/9/2015]. In Rhuthun, comparable units shift at an average of £222,000. Indeed, there's a three-bed det bungalow in the slightly less fashionable poor relation to Stryd y Brython at Fron Haul, off Stryd y Brython, at £195,000 and, next door to the 2009 sale at Stryd y Brython itself, a two-bed det bungalow at £225,000. Our 2009 family would find themselves in a different situation today. Basically, on Stryd y Brython, it's one bedroom fewer than in Clawdd but a premium over Clawddnewydd's £185,000 £180,000 bungalow of nearly 20 per cent.
A further classic example of the problems associated with selling in Clawddnewydd is Llidiardau, some ¾ mile west of the village centre. It's an individual period four bed det house of character, with ground floor study, two en-suites and five acres of land. Yet, not only is it marketed at a mere snip at £375,000, there's been no sale in three years. Yet, large four bed det houses in Rhuthun sell for £350,000, but there's no land or privacy. Rhuthun, though, is in demand; Clawddnewydd isn't. Price is all.
The Clawddnewydd community sometimes unease at English incomers—mewnfudwyr—occasionally spills over. They can join in events and spend their money but are generally unwelcome on local committees. Local communities opposed the 2012 plans by Roberts Homes to transform the rotting Pool Park hospital site into a phased residential village on no other grounds than keeping incomers—especially English-speakers—out. Is this a healthy way to keep community facilities afloat and the school full? Or does this simply show an independence of spirit and the importance of preserving the upland Welsh culture & way of life?