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[TEXT] Six Cif commenters, six perspectives, one issue: readers share their experiences and recommendations on rural lifeRosedale Abbey village

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[TEXT] Six Cif commenters, six perspectives, one issue: readers share their experiences and recommendations on rural lifeRosedale Abbey village

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Readers have asked for more articles written from a personal perspective. In this series, we commission Cif commenters to write about their own experiences. Each person will tackle a subject from a distinctive angle in the hope that they will inspire others to comment below the line. After examining mental health, fatherhood, unemployment and care, we're now looking at rural life.

Because of the personal nature of the debate, moderation will be strict.

VigarV and her parents, Jo and Dickie Vigar, Witchampton, Dorset

The greatest fear for any rural village is urbanisation, which not only entails the loss of the countryside itself but also a way of life and community. Witchampton is, thankfully, in a protected green belt and our thriving community of 350-400 residents of all ages comprise a mix of those who work for the estate and those, like us, who moved here for other work or to retire.

Even in a rural community, driven by the seasons and generations of tradition, we witness gradual changes. We evolved from a feudal system to a more co-operative, open type of existence. There is less focus around the church and the owning estate and more on the community as a whole. We take care of each other and fight for what we need: a new village shop, club, cricket pitch or school.

Self-sufficiency is a must. If the power cuts, it takes time to get it fixed; if you need to take something to the dump, you may have to wait in turn to borrow a neighbour's trailer. We are OK with that; it's a pace of life we have learned to live with. We do tend to depend on our cars - hardly surprising when there is only a weekly bus service to our nearest town, Wimbourne. No one goes without, however.

Getting used to rural life and being part of its community can take some getting used to. From the unexpected visitors (human and wildlife) to patchy broadband and mobile phone coverage, cesspits instead of a sewage system, no streetlights or pavements, it is a far cry from our previous urban existence. Over the years, we have become involved at different levels with the village and have made life-long friends.

We hope that the government will do more to protect our very special way of life and perhaps make a start by adding another couple of bus runs per week! We hope that people come to visit us and stay a little longer than for a cream tea or ice cream. That they talk to the people they meet and ask a few questions. The more people from non-rural communities understand and experience our way of life, the more they can enjoy, appreciate and support it.

someotherbloke

Six months ago I moved from Birmingham to a rural village in Shropshire. After 40 years in a busy and culturally diverse city, nothing prepared me for how different living in the country was going to be.

The pace of life is much slower. I've had to learn patience very quickly - which is no bad thing when it comes to my driving. I also enjoy the fresh air, the stunning scenery and the varied wildlife. I like the healthy disregard for petty rules and regulations. Hardly anywhere displays those ubiquitous "It is against the law to smoke in these premises" signs, and the pubs have a lock-in instead of a late licence.

However, it wasn't long before I encountered the more unpleasant side of country life: the blatant racism. Not a lack of political correctness, but offensive language straight from the Bernard Manning school of race relations. I was appalled - especially when everybody had made "outsiders" such as my wife and I feel so welcome. This had left me with a real dilemma: do I challenge the perpetrator and alienate myself from the community, or do I try and ignore it and laugh it off ?

In a small effort to combat local prejudices, I experimented with a little social integration by inviting some friends over from Birmingham one weekend. It wasn't a huge success. When we invited two local couples back to our house, things kicked off. A cocktail of too much booze, a woman who started banging on about "bombs'n'burqas", and our loony-left-gob-on-a-stick friend proved to be a lethal one. A cat fight started to erupt in the kitchen and the local woman was promptly escorted out by her extremely embarrassed friends.

Like anywhere in the world, there are no easy solutions to tackling people's prejudices, and these things take time. Racism isn't going to be cured overnight. After six months I now feel much more comfortable challenging people, and as more people from cities (including minorities) move into rural areas, attitudes like his will surely start to change. It's just that in the country things move very slowly indeed.

Hannah Ashwell aka HAshwell

I live and work in rural Devon where I'm employed to produce and create arts events for small communities with professional artists across theatre, music, comedy and dance. This job deeply immerses me and the organisation for which I work in the values and needs of the people who live here. Not only can we select and match up the right artists with the right communities, but also because working in a rural area means you need to work with people about the things they are most passionate about. In recent projects we've tackled the thorny subjects of environmental change and the impact it has on people. Extensive debates have begun, been fostered and continue as a result of our work.

Time and again, people in our communities reveal concerns about our local economy and the strains on villages by changing lifestyles. Our area was predominantly driven by agriculture 50 years ago, but foot and mouth decimated the region and now tourism has risen to equal or greater importance. This has brought numerous problems, not least that of second-home ownership. In some villages there can be as many as 80% of properties that have very limited occupancy, with their owners only visiting two or three times a year, while the rest of the time the buildings lay dormant.

There are no economic benefits to the villages when this happens. Invariably it leads to the closure of local services including post offices, schools, pubs and shops. However, the villages are fighting back, and I'm able to help them. By producing and presenting live events in community spaces in partnership with the communities, we're able to bring people together to meet neighbours, share a meal, raise money for local services and to take part in arts events, which can be poignant and challenging. We only seek to cover our costs, the rest of the money goes directly into the community. I'm very proud to be a part of it.

I believe we must continue to invest in rural arts, where the benefits are tangible for a whole cross-section of citizens from different classes and age groups. I've seen first hand how communities have been able to generate further investment; from renovations to existing community buildings, to having the ability to support more activities for young people. Our future lies in being able to deliver sustainable communities with thriving local economies made for and by the people who live there.

James Robinson aka Monsieur Boulanger

I live in a sleepy town in Yorkshire, a place of flat caps and fields where the only significant buildings are the church, the post office and the butchers. It's an attractive place, in a chocolate-box kind of way. Generations have grown up together here, so you'll often see shopkeepers in doorways, hands on hips, asking their favourite customers if they've heard any good gossip. It's quiet: there is no background hum of traffic and bustle, only wind and birdsong; in the evenings there is barely a sound to be heard except for the odd passing Land Rover and the church bells ringing out each quarter-hour.

To some this might sound idyllic. I'm sure there are thousands of Londoners who wish they lived out in the countryside. But let me tell you, space and fresh air are overrated. What you have in London is convenience, entertainment and more varied opportunities for social contact; none of these are in abundance here. Where I live, everything shuts at around 4pm (noon on Wednesdays). After that, there isn't much to do but visit the pub, a place where everybody seems to know everybody else's business to the extent they've stopped bothering to converse. This is regarded as nightlife, and it's the same seven days a week. Restaurants, cinemas, nightclubs and the like are at least a £50 taxi ride away - the securing of which being made even more difficult by the absence of a taxi rank.

Next time you're cursing London transport, spare a thought for the small towns where buses only visit every other day. My local train station is a mile and a half walk through desolate countryside. As a result, it's next to impossible to live here without a car, and as everybody drives to the nearest city for work and entertainment the rural community becomes ever more insular. Towns like mine are one post office closure away from becoming nothing more than mysterious clusters of houses that lurk among fields, forbidding to all but those forced to live there.

Despite these grumpy misgivings, I've absolutely no doubt that this is exactly the sort of place many people would love to reside - and fair play to them. I don't for a second begrudge anybody a quiet life. But for those dissatisfied Londoners who never stop complaining about it being an urban hell I can only suggest that they gain the courage of their convictions and come live out here. They might free up a few jobs for those of us who'd actually prefer to be in the city.

Nell Darby aka globalnomad

I live in David Cameron's constituency, in the Cotswolds. It's a rural area that is seen by the media as affluent and somewhat smug. Some local estate agents foster this image, marketing properties to Londoners seeking weekend "retreats". But my town, Chipping Norton, is a place conflicted between the wealth of some of its residents and its ordinary workers struggling to find decent jobs.

Chipping Norton is in danger of becoming a dormitory town, where many residents have to commute away from the area. Many people I know work in Oxford, Birmingham, Bristol or London, creating a culture of long hours and expensive journeys. There is a lack of jobs, particularly for those like me - mothers with childcare commitments. The main part-time jobs offered are in the two small local supermarkets or the leisure centre - but the wages are low, and the costs of living are high. I've looked further afield for jobs, but have still struggled to find one that pays enough to make the commuting and childcare costs worthwhile. For several years, I commuted to London, but working 10-hour shifts with a three-hour daily commute proved to be too tiring to maintain.

I love this area. I was born here, and am now bringing my children up here. But the tradeoff is that my earning potential has been drastically reduced. When a major local employer closed six years ago with the loss of 400 jobs, the majority of its site became a housing development. Moves like this create a town with fewer sites available for companies to relocate to and little incentive to do so. Conversely, the number of residents increases - many of whom will work in other places, and thus contribute little to the economy of their town.

I would like to see incentives for businesses to relocate to more rural areas - tax breaks or other benefits. Promoting business sites outside of metropolitan areas should be made cheaper and easier. Housing developments shouldn't be built in rural towns without consideration for the impact on their economy and infrastructure. And, as a last resort, if working mums have to commute some distance to work, then we need better and cheaper public transport.

About 10 years ago, we moved to a small West Country town. It's a picture-postcard place: small enough that you'll meet someone you know whenever you go into town, large enough that it's possible, unlike a village, to keep yourself to yourself.

Possible, but not easy. Although most inhabitants are incomers, there's a strong community spirit that absorbs almost everyone, with a wide range of activities, societies and goodly deeds and an expectation that one should get involved. Within a fortnight of our arrival, my wife was recruited onto the community hall committee. Because of work commitments I became her appendage, helping out at major events. Last year I took the plunge and joined the town council.

The responsibilities of this lowest tier of local government are remarkably varied: maintaining properties like the sports pavilion, children's play area, cemetery and historic lock-up, liaising with police and local businesses, commenting on planning applications and dealing with litter, vandalism and pigeons. Drains, roads, pavements, refuse collection, street lighting and the like are the responsibility of other bodies like the district council - but we get most of the complaints, and so spend a lot of time nagging them into action.

It's been fascinating, but also hard work. I am impressed, and occasionally embarrassed, by the commitment of fellow councillors - entirely without reward, whatever people who confuse us with district or county councillors may assume. It's difficult to imagine how the town would function without this voluntary effort - or what will happen as district services are cut and the community looks to the town council to full the gap. We only have so much time and energy.

Town and parish councils have almost no power, and very limited resources. The contrast with equivalent bodies in France or Germany is striking and it's tempting to wish for that level of devolution. However, that would change the character of the council, making it less hands-on, more managerial and more likely to become politicised. My proposal, therefore, is for a stronger obligation on local and national government to take account of local plans and views, with an end to the one-size-fits-all approach. Yes, there's a risk of nimbyism, but our town at least is not opposed to development (indeed, one of our major concerns is to get more land designated for industrial use). What we want is appropriate development, and a sense that we'll be listened to occasionally.

The next people's panel will be about vocational education. If you are interested in participating, e-mail jessica.reed@guardian.co.uk with a few lines about your experience.

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Perspectives on rural life | The people's panel

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Readers have asked for more articles written from a personal perspective. In this series, we commission Cif commenters to write about their own experiences. Each person will tackle a subject from a distinctive angle in the hope that they will inspire others to comment below the line.

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Three children having fun in the countryside.

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Three children having fun in the countryside.

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A Life in the Countryside in Britain