Start With the Square, Then Leave It

Every historic market town gives you the same welcome. You arrive, you find the square, you admire the guildhall or the clock tower, and within twenty minutes you have bought a coffee and taken the photograph everyone takes. Then you look for the next thing and there isn't one, so you drive home.

The trick is to treat the square as a doorway rather than a destination. Almost every town of this age grew outwards from a market place, and the interesting bits — the butcher's yard, the coaching inn's back entrance, the lane where the wool merchants kept their carts — are tucked just behind the buildings you have been photographing. Look for the gaps. There is nearly always a passage beside the bank, or a covered entry under an arch, or a narrow way squeezed between two shopfronts that looks like it must be private. It usually isn't.

How to Spot an Alleyway Worth Turning Into

The good ones announce themselves quietly. A few things worth watching for as you walk the perimeter of the square:

• A change in paving. If the smooth slabs suddenly give way to setts, cobbles or worn brick, the lane is older than the shopfronts around it and probably leads somewhere with a story.
• Signs at first-floor height. Painted or carved lettering above head level often survives redevelopment. Names like "Corn Store" or "Cartwright's Yard" are usually honest about what happened there.
• A lamp bracket with no lamp. These mark passages that were once lit and maintained because people used them after dark — a good sign there is something at the far end.
• Bollards and a drain. Where a lane meets the square, look down. Old drains and stone kerbs suggest a yard that was busy enough to need them.

If a lane has two of these, walk it. If it has three, walk it twice and take your time.

Small Courtyards and the Buildings Behind the Fronts

The real reward is the courtyard. Market towns are full of them, and most are open to anyone who bothers to step through. You will know you have found one when the noise of the square drops away and the buildings suddenly seem taller.

These yards were working spaces: stables, brew houses, workshops, sometimes a small chapel. Many now hold a single independent business trying to keep the rent down — a repair shop, a framer, a bookbinder, a tiny gallery. Others are simply quiet, with a bench and a fig tree and a cat that has clearly decided you are not important.

A few things to do while you are there. Look up at the brickwork; you can often see where a doorway was bricked in or a window enlarged. Read any plaques, even the dull-sounding ones. And check whether the yard connects through to a second street. Many towns have a whole parallel network behind the main frontage, and once you find one through-route you will start finding others.

Independent Shops That Reward a Slow Walk

Shops in the back lanes are almost always smaller, more specific and more interesting than the ones on the square. Expect fewer chains and more of the following:

• An old-fashioned ironmonger with wooden drawers and a person behind the counter who knows what you actually need.
• A second-hand bookshop where the local history shelf is genuinely local, not just a few tatty paperbacks.
• A deli or greengrocer that sells the produce of the farms you drove past to get here.
• A workshop with a window — upholstery, clock repair, guitar setup — where you can watch someone work for a minute without anyone minding.

Buy something small even if you don't need it. These are the businesses that keep the lanes alive, and a two-pound purchase is a fair price for a good half hour of browsing.

Cosy Stops and Quiet Corners for a Pause

You will want to sit down eventually, and the back lanes are better for it than the square. Look for a café in a converted yard, ideally with a wood burner and mismatched chairs, or a pub with a flagged back room and no television. The best ones are usually the ones with an unassuming door and no menu board outside.

If you are staying overnight, an old coaching inn or a converted granary within walking distance of the lanes is worth the extra few pounds. Ask for a room at the back, away from the road, and you will get the thing you actually came for: the sound of a town going quiet rather than a main road going nowhere. Even a plain room above a shop will do, as long as you can open a window and hear nothing but a distant chime.

Practical Notes for a Slow Visit

Go on a weekday if you can. Saturday mornings are lovely but busy, and Sunday is when the small shops shut and the lanes feel slightly abandoned — which some people love and others find disappointing.

Wear flat shoes with a bit of grip. Setts are uneven and get slippery when damp. Take a paper map if you can find one, because in narrow lanes your phone will lose its signal and your sense of direction at the same time. Give yourself three hours rather than one, and resist the urge to plan the route. The whole point of these corners is that most people miss them. You won't.