Inside the ‘Experimental’ Town That King Charles III Created

POUNDBURY, England – If you follow the Queen Mother’s gaze, you’ll find that it lands on the Duchess of Cornwall pub, where a £17.45 Venison Bourguignon or £17.95 Roasted Barramundi awaits you. Too pricey? Perhaps you’d prefer the hummus flatbread, at a princely £9.50. Or, if none of those sound appetising, you’re in luck – there’s a posh supermarket just across the road.

This is the geography of the centre of Poundbury, an experimental planning project in southern England that lies within the Duchy of Cornwall, a huge estate that up until last week was owned by King Charles III. A huge statue of Queen Elizabeth II’s mother, after which this square is named, stands at one corner of what is essentially an enormous car park flanked by a wine shop and Waitrose, a high end supermarket chain loved by Britain’s middle classes. 

When West Dorset District Council decided to expand the town back in the 1980s, Charles, then the Prince of Wales, became its champion. Poundbury would be an example of New Urbanism – “this should not be yet another soulless housing estate with a business park tacked on,” he said. 

On the train to Poundbury, I read that New Urbanism essentially means city planning around walkable neighbourhoods, but standing in this square between the pub and the statue, I could not say it feels especially walkable, as I was nearly run over twice by cars who are guided not by traffic lights or road markings, but simply by all of the bends that are supposed to slow vehicles down. It might be a town planned for pedestrians, but a lot of these pedestrians seem to be driving to where they want to walk from. 

Elsewhere, pavements are huge and protective; covered walkways are expansive and feel European, far from the urban sprawl that the former prince so clearly disapproves of. Poundbury is not unpopular if you read the local press, and there is the sense of an attempted utopia to it as you try to unpick Charles’ vision. Roads spiral in pentagons around squares – this walkable town was apparently inspired by Venus’ orbit, flowers and Islamic art. 

About one third of the housing in Poundbury is affordable housing for rent or shared ownership, and the idea is that the social housing is indistinguishable from the private properties. But the chiropractor, the hearing care centre and the exercise classes for over-50s strongly imply that this is not a young person’s town. Poundbury Magazine, published by the local community trust, advertises luxury car travel and wealth management advice. Census data from 2011 says 51.4 percent of residents here are 16-64 years old, and that 32.9 percent of them are over 65. 

I bumped into two locals from Poundbury’s neighbouring villages, who did not want to be identified because they thought what they had to say was too controversial. The town is equidistant between them, so they come here for strolls, but they would never live here: “You have to be a certain type,” one of the women said. 

They told me about the woman who was rebuked for having too many flowers in her front garden, and that they think many of those who buy private properties here are retired, eager to move away from cities. They think a lot of the workers here do not live in Poundbury, which might explain several of the cars, and ultimately this was not the aim of a town that was supposed to house homes next to businesses in the same street, self-sustainably providing work for its people. 

There was once a factory here, they said, that provided over 100 jobs, but that it had moved further away to the town of Poole. One of the women rather ominously urged me to, “look at the house prices here, and find out what the rules are for living here.”

Prices vary, but I saw a bunch of properties advertised above £700,000. A local estate agent gave me a 52-page booklet on the guidelines for living and building in Poundbury, where I learned that chimneys aren’t allowed to be “inappropriately stout or dumpy”, and that a lot of the ones I could see are in fact not remotely functional but are there for the “traditional silhouettes”.

Paving over lawns or artificial grass in front gardens “will not generally be approved,” and it is advised that things like doors and windows are repaired, rather than replaced. In some cases very specific material which is not the cheapest to maintain or renovate is advised, such as leadwork, which must not only be expensive for private homeowners but for the council paying for all the social housing. 

You can’t deny that Poundbury is pretty, but it’s pretty in the way the suburbia of Edward Scissorhands suburbia would be if it had been filmed in England. It’s twee and makes you feel like you can’t talk too loudly. Poundbury has been described as a feudal Disneyland, but the monarchical references are heavily muted besides Queen Mother Square. Most of the road names have in-the-know royal references to the family’s race horses or the Dorset Regiment’s battles in the 19th century but other than that, the only things here that suggest monarchist feelings is a lone union flag I found flown at half mast, bouquets of flowers for Queen Elizabeth II at the feet of her mother’s statue, and the condolences sign outside Waitrose. 

In the 52-page rulebook I learn that solar panels aren’t allowed if they’re visible from the street, and that emerging eco-friendly technology “involving changes to external appearance or potential nuisance to other residents will require the consent of the Regulator.” It does not click with the climate-change-fighting, renegade-royal Charles is known to be. 

Poundbury is unfinished; construction still rumbles on near the edge of the town which is expected to be finished by 2025. New housing is advertised in the local magazine. But this is no longer King Charles’ concern, as his son Prince William has now inherited the Duchy of Cornwall, and Poundbury with it. What Charles has inherited from his mother in turn is vast, and which he will not pay any inheritance tax on.

You don’t see Charles’ name anywhere, and curious visitors might be disappointed; some German tourists lingered by the Queen Mother statue taking pictures, half to observe the period of national mourning in the UK, but half because there’s not really anything else to take pictures of here, apart from the roads without markings, fake chimneys, and an incomplete vision.