I live in one of the UK’s prettiest villages with no cars

IT’S Monday morning, pouring with rain and I’m lugging a wooden sledge up to the top of a steep hill.

This is where I will meet the delivery driver who’s dropping off my shopping for the week.

Welcome to the life of a Clovellian — the name given to the residents of Clovelly in Devon, one of the country’s prettiest villages.

Once owned by the Queen of England, Clovelly dates back to the Domesday Book and is famed for its cobbled streets and the fact it doesn’t have any vehicular access.

For the 250 residents who live here, life is full of minor inconveniences but the trade-off is living somewhere quiet and safe with the community spirit of a bygone age — plus incredible views of the Atlantic.

You can’t just pack up and move here, though.

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Residents have to be approved by John Rous, the current owner and a direct descendant of Christine Hamlyn who inherited the estate in 1884.

The cottages in Clovelly are let to long-term residents only, so there aren’t any Airbnbs or second homes.

When we saw a house advertised on RightMove, we expressed our interest and met with the Estate Manager, who showed us around and explained the complexities of living there.

Then it was time for an audience with Mr Rous to see whether we would fit in and if we understood the ethos of Clovelly.

We succeeded, and were soon immersed in village life.

The harbour, at the bottom of the village, is generally where visitors gravitate and it’s a wonderful place for wild swimming as well as a hotspot for marine life.

I regularly see dolphins from my kitchen window and have to stop and pinch myself.

There are two pubs here, The New Inn and The Red Lion, and both are hubs for tourists and villagers alike.

I’ve even taken on one of the shops in the visitor centre’s car park where I’ll be teaching yoga, Pilates and providing a treatment space for massage and other therapies.

Because of the village’s layout, emergency services can’t access it, so if someone needs medical assistance they are either carried or walked to an ambulance.

In the event of a fire, crews need to come on foot or rely on specialist equipment to navigate their way from the top of the village.

It’s the reason why there isn’t any gas in the village. Instead, many of the cottages are heated by Aga Rayburn range cookers, which also heat up the water.

Most days, we forage on the beach for wood for our log burners, which has saved us a fortune.

So it goes without saying that you have to be physically strong to live in Clovelly — pulling your sledge up and down the hill is tough going — and especially on moving-in day.

Until 1983, donkeys were used to haul heavy loads up the cobbled streets but, although you will often see them being walked around the village, their days of service are now over.

Luckily, online supermarket deliveries are a thing of modern convenience and Amy’s Pantry — a converted van full of groceries, fruit, vegetables, meat and dairy products — arrives each Wednesday.

Since moving to Clovelly, I am fitter than I’ve ever been and average 15,000 steps a day, although it is strange living somewhere where we are the subject of so much attention.

Our home is one of the most photographed cottages in the village, and in the busy summer months we are greeted by crowds of gawping tourists taking photos every time we open our front door.

When our son Zak recently visited from university, he couldn’t get over the fact we were a tourist attraction.

Generally, people are lovely and intrigued about what it’s like to live there.

However, we have had to buy a private sign for our gate because tourists kept coming into our garden.

There are regular festivals throughout the year, including the Seaweed Festival, Lifeboat Day and the Lobster & Crab Festival.

The Christmas light switch-on is a big event, too, with as many as 5,000 visitors coming to the village to enjoy the fireworks.

It’s the most incredible place and, despite the inconveniences, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now.