How Prince William is taking on his father’s mantle to beat Cornwall’s housing crisis
Nansledan, on the outskirts of Newquay, has narrow, gently winding streets lined with typically Cornish cottages painted in a coastal palette of pastel blues, pinks, greens and creams. At first glance, it is not dissimilar to any other chocolate-box village in the area, with one key difference. 10 years ago, Nansledan didn’t exist.
When it is completed, which will take another 20 years, it will have 4,000 homes, making it the largest new-build development in Cornwall. But Nansledan (which means ‘broad valley’ in Cornish) has nothing in common with your average boxy, identikit housing development – the kind that provokes the ire of both buyers and neighbours. That’s because it came straight from the imagination of King Charles.
Cornwall has always been a place with stark contrasts between the haves and the have-nots. It is a second-homeowners paradise, yet also one of the poorest regions in northern Europe. According to homelessness charity St Petrocs, there are 21,000 local households on the waiting list for social housing, eight per cent of the population of the county. The charity supported 695 people sleeping rough last year, an increase of 38 per cent on 2022. Now Prince William has inherited the Duchy, he is attempting to address this need as he writes Nansledan’s next chapter.
When he was still the Duke of Cornwall, Charles drew up plans for a new Cornish village, comprising a mix of affordable and private housing, independent businesses and green spaces. It was initially dubbed Poundbury-on-sea, after the King’s “ideal town” in Dorset (where foundations were first dug in 1993 – it is due to complete in 2026), but has since taken on a life of its own. Construction began in 2014.
Nansledan is Duchy through and through. It is built in approved local materials and a range of architectural styles that meet the King’s design standards, all built on what was once the King’s – but now is Prince William’s – land.
The roads are angled to stop traffic from speeding, and the layout is designed so that amenities and community spaces will be within walking distance of each house. There are fruit trees in the streets and small holes in some of the bricks to make homes for bees. In some ways it feels a little too pristine, a little uncanny; in other ways, thanks to the organic and slightly higgledy-piggledy design, it feels as though it has been there for centuries. “The Duchy pays great attention to detail,” says Ben Murphy, the estate’s director. “As his Majesty would say, it’s all about attention to detail…”
Thirty per cent of Nansledan homes are affordable, and these are split 50/50 between affordable rent (let at least 20 per cent below local market rate) and shared ownership or discounted sales. This will rise to 40 per cent by the time the village is completed.
Crucially, affordable housing is scattered throughout the estate and is indistinguishable in design and quality from homes on the open market, which sell at a premium for the area. A new three-bedroom detached house from one of the Duchy’s three approved developers, C G Fry, is currently for sale at £475,000. Short-term holiday lets – a key factor in Cornwall’s housing crisis – are banned, but it is impossible to completely stamp down on second home ownership.
Now, Prince William has extended the remit by announcing plans to build temporary accommodation for people experiencing homelessness in one corner of Nansledan. 24 homes will be constructed – a mixture of flats and four-bed houses, built in the same “Cornish vernacular” as the estate – and will offer wrap-around support in conjunction with St Petrocs. The first 14 will be ready for tenants next autumn. These temporary homes, like other properties run by St Petrocs, will have an average residency of 12 months. They will give people an address, a ready-made community and a place to restart, and after six months, the residents will be prioritised for long-term social housing elsewhere.
“We want people to feel like this is their home from day one,” says Murphy. “[Nansledan] has a strong community spirit, and I’m really pleased with how well people have responded to this project. We have always had environmental and social objectives, but there is no question that Prince William is dialling up the social impact.” You might expect Nimbyism or trepidation at temporary homelessness accommodation being set up next door, but there is nothing but support from the residents I speak to.
What is it like to have the Prince of Wales as your landlord? Much has been written about the villages’ 35-page planning guide, which details stringent rules for Nansledan homeowners: exterior paint colours must be picked from a pre-approved palette; UPVC doors and windows are banned; hedges must be an “appropriate indigenous species”; Duchy consent must be sought for extensions or even garden sheds, et cetera. It makes the village sound like a control freak’s paradise, which in many ways, it is. But it has also proven it is built for success.
Enthusiastic residents aren’t hard to find, and they speak of the King, their benefactor, with fondness and familiarity.
Theresa Ferguson, 62, a retired policewoman, moved to Nasledan in 2017, and has chatted to the King in her front garden on one of his many visits. Ferguson is originally from Glasgow, but 70 per cent of Nansledan residents have come from the local area or elsewhere in the county.
“I was the first one on my street,” she says, “so I’ve seen it all built up around me. It’s been amazing watching it develop. No matter where you go, there are always going to be those who come in and aren’t overly happy. But the majority of people who live here love it; I certainly love it. One of the King’s visions is that the community is built right from the foundation of the estate itself.”
She describes Nansledan as the “ideal opportunity” for social and temporary housing. “There are so many different [set-ups]; you have people who have bought their house, rented housing, social housing and shared ownership, and you can’t tell the difference. You’d have to go out of your way to find out who’s different; we’re all the same and should all be treated the same.”
While Poundbury has mainly attracted retirees, Nansledan has appealed to a broader demographic, including young families. Emma Smithson, who is renting in Nansledan with her husband and two children, says it is still so quiet “you could hear a pin drop” in the evenings. Residents complain that it is still lacking one crucial ingredient: a village pub.
Nansledan couldn’t yet be described as buzzy, but thanks to the parade of shops that have opened at its centre (a bakery, personal training gym and a handful of glossy clothing and homeware shops), it has the promise of an increasingly vibrant community to come. And it has a safety and community-minded feel that harks back to villages from decades gone by – in the summer, all the children freely play out in the streets, and Theresa dresses up as an Elf at Christmas and the Easter Bunny at Easter in her role as events organiser for the community association.
It also genuinely seems to serve local needs. Lottie Blowfield, 31, has opened a clothing shop named &Kin there, with support from the Duchy, and has finally managed to purchase a house with her boyfriend nearby. Finding affordable housing has been “tough,” she says. “It’s a nationwide problem, [but] Cornwall struggles a lot because it’s so seasonal. When houses go on the market, they get snapped up so quickly for second homes or holiday lets. You’re battling with that.”
Christopher Chard, 30, says that despite its offer of 30 per cent affordable housing, Nansledan has the potential to become a wealthy enclave like any other, out of reach for local people. “It’s a fantastic scheme, but the [private] house prices there are now more expensive than what would be classed as “affordable.” They’re affordable for people moving back to the area,” he says, but not necessarily those attempting to get on the ladder.
It’s a problem that will be almost impossible to solve. “Cornwall is traditionally an area that has had high house prices and low incomes,” says Henry Meacock, St Petroc’s chief executive. “That means there has always been an affordability issue for local people. We have a low proportion of social housing – 11 or 12 per cent, compared to the national average of 17 or 18 per cent.
“What happened as a result of the pandemic is that some of those issues have been accentuated; a lot of private rental sector homes have been converted to short-term holiday lets, and we’ve seen a lot of section 21 notices [no-fault evictions] issued to tenants.”
The Duchy’s creation of a Cornish utopia could easily be dismissed as blue-sky thinking. But Newquay is in need of a blue-sky solution.