Growing up, I thought I knew everything about this place, what with the same walks, the same faces, and the same spots we’d go to without thinking.
But as I got older, I started to realise that Ewell isn’t just familiar, and anyone who knows me will tell you that I think Ewell is the greatest place to live.
First thing I always have to make clear is that Ewell is pronounced “you’ll”, NOT E-well, though I can understand how people can make that mistake.
When it comes to Ewell, you’ll never hear me criticising the area, like I may do with other places, but rather, you’ll hear me praising, and pretty much advertising it.
And with good reason too.
Undoubtedly, my favourite thing about living in this area has always been the green spaces.
After work, especially in the summer and autumn months, I’m quick to dash down to the Hogsmill River and nature trail for a walk.
There’s something about that stretch of water winding quietly through the village that instantly helps me switch off from the day’s noise.
I love the stepping stones that let you cross the river, although recently they’ve been submerged for some reason, meaning wet shoes from time to time.
Hogsmill stepping stones (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)
There are secret passages that loop off from the main path, leading you through thickets and under low-hanging branches, eventually spilling out near the duck pond.
Often, I decide to get off the train at Stoneleigh and walk home just so I can walk through the forest, as I call it.
On top of being a place to wind down, it’s also my biggest source of inspiration when it comes to creative writing.
I love creating fun and intriguing scenarios where a forest is featured, and decide whether to go further with the plan, or leave it as a short story in my mind.
Not too far from this woodland is Jungle Island Adventure Golf.
Jungle Island Adventure Golf is one of those places I keep coming back to, whether it’s with friends or family, it never fails to deliver a good time.
Honestly, I’d recommend it to anyone who enjoys a bit of light-hearted competition mixed with some proper silly fun.
That said, I’ve never once managed to get a hole in one, and I don’t think I’ve ever played a full game without making a pilgrimage back to the front desk for a fresh ball.
Mostly, I lose my them by somehow managing to send them straight into the river.
I’m just going to blame the river over my terrible golf skills.
Just besides it is the beautiful Horton Park, which makes Ewell feel like a beautiful countryside walk, especially in that September-turn.
Bourne Hall has always been my second go-to spot when revision season hits.
When the Hogsmill paths get too muddy, I’d switch to walking around the hall’s grounds, taking a breather, feeding the ducks, and trying not to get distracted by their antics.
I absolutely love the community events that happen here, whether it’s a theatre show put on by a local group or the summer fete, Bourne Hall feels like the village’s heartbeat.
I still have fond memories of the fete from when I was younger, especially decorating my own cookie and going way overboard with the icing.
Honestly, I probably ended up with more on my fingers than the cookie itself, but it was one of those small, perfect moments you don’t forget.
But while all of these are permanent fixtures of Ewell, it’s the Hook Arena fair that makes Ewell come alive.
The fair takes place twice a year, once in April during the Easter holidays, and then again in November for Bonfire Night.
The fair goes on without ALMOST any issues, bringing with it the bright lights, buzzing rides, and that unmistakable (and ridiculously expensive) smell of candyfloss and fried treats.
Between the two, I’ve got to say I much prefer November.
There’s something about the crisp autumn air and the big, spectacular fireworks that just hits differently.
Every year, the display goes off without a hitch, lighting up the sky and pulling the whole village together in that perfect, shared moment of awe.
All in all, I really love living in Ewell.
This place has 100 per cent made me who I am, and I can’t see myself anywhere else, unless it’s in a detached mansion in Kensington.
And just in case I haven’t made it clear enough: it’s pronounced “you’ll”, not “E-well”.
