From Georgian Cottage to Welsh Castle: Our Unexpected Property JourneyHow a pandemic decision led us to become custodians of a historic Welsh castle with turrets, bats, and a touch of magic

I never intended to buy a castle in Wales.

My husband and I were perfectly content in our little Georgian house in Gloucestershire. But the pandemic made us realise how precious family truly is. After much consideration, we decided to move closer to Joe's family in Wales—the land of his birth and a place that had captured my heart since my A-Level Geography project on the Gower Peninsula. Little did I know that my longstanding love affair with Wales would eventually lead me to marry a Welshman and make this magnificent country my home.

The First Almost-Home in Carmarthenshire

We both have a particular fondness for properties with character and history. Wales, having historically been less wealthy than England and not benefited from Empire wealth (which funded many of England's grand historic homes), offers fewer large period properties within our budget of around a million pounds. There are plenty of charming miners' cottages and Victorian semis, but standalone country properties were proving rare.

Then fortune smiled upon us. Within days of our decision to relocate, we discovered an old mansion in Carmarthenshire with connections to Lady Jane Grey. Despite needing significant renovation, the four acres, breathtaking views, and sense of history proved irresistible. One visit was all it took—we knew it had to be ours.

We agreed on a price and began making financial arrangements. Our Gloucestershire home wasn't even on the market yet, so we arranged a substantial loan for the purchase, assuming our house would take some time to sell.

We couldn't have been more wrong. Our old house, situated near King Charles' country estate, Highgrove, in a picturesque part of the Cotswolds—complete with country pubs, antique shops and the rather posh Beaufort Polo Club—attracted a flood of London buyers eager to escape the city post-pandemic. Within a week, we'd secured a cash buyer. We accepted their offer and exchanged contracts, believing that as our new Welsh property had no chain and the elderly seller was eager to move, we would be settled in our new home within weeks.

Again, we were wrong.

A Castle Appears

I'll never forget the moment I first laid eyes on the little castle that is now our home. My husband sent me a property listing, saying he'd found something rather special. The first image I saw was the view of the turret from the paddock, and my heart quickened instantly. But we had already committed to purchasing the mansion from an elderly lady. We weren't the sort to break promises. So, after sending the listing to my niece with a note saying "Can you imagine living in a castle?!", I tried to put it from my mind (though I confess to checking a week later and noting it was under offer).

Our house sale progressed rapidly, and we received assurances that everything was on track for our purchase and move to Wales. We enjoyed a blissful Christmas—our last in Gloucestershire—and I began creating mood boards and contacting local contractors to plan renovations.

After Christmas, concerns began to creep in. In the UK property system, once you exchange contracts, you're legally bound to sell your property to the buyer. Before that point, either party can withdraw without consequences. We had exchanged on our Gloucestershire house but not on the mansion. Still, with blind faith that it was merely paperwork causing delays, we vacated our Gloucestershire home and moved to our compact London flat with our three dogs—quite a squeeze!

Six Months of Limbo

And there we remained for the next six months. The mansion seller stopped communicating, and her solicitor wouldn't explain the delays. After three failed attempts to exchange contracts, it became painfully clear that the sale wasn't going to materialise. Calls went unanswered, and emails received frustrating responses. We were spending thousands on legal fees and storage for our belongings. Finally, on a Wednesday afternoon, we withdrew from the purchase. I was utterly devastated.

I had left the glorious countryside for a cramped London flat. I was convinced I'd made a terrible mistake.

And then something magical happened.

Fate Intervenes

That Saturday morning, I was browsing the Country Life website while enjoying coffee in bed. Suddenly, the little castle appeared—it was for sale again!

I texted my husband in the next room and made my way to the kitchen. By the time I arrived, Joe was already on the phone to the estate agent.

Two days later, we were viewing the property.

I remember driving down the road that runs parallel to the castle. I caught a glimpse of it, and my heart leapt. This was the one. I just knew.

The owners explained they had moved in 25 years earlier when the little castle was in complete disrepair. They had lovingly renovated it but felt it was time to pass it to new custodians. There was still work to do, but we thought then it was mainly cosmetic. The two-acre garden needed attention, but as a keen gardener, this only made it more appealing.

I recall watching my husband in the Great Hall as he remarked on the surprisingly high beamed ceilings. We had seen many Elizabethan properties with low ceilings that felt cramped. I could tell he was smitten too.

The house seemed endless—five bedrooms, three reception rooms, two kitchens, two staircases, a boot room, four different entrances, and a turret. It's not enormous but substantial. Not grand but magical.

We returned for a second viewing that afternoon with my in-laws. They too fell in love with the house and were thrilled their son was returning to Wales.

We made our offer the next day and agreed on terms within 48 hours. Six weeks later, we moved from London to Abergavenny.

Custodians, Not Owners

That was almost four years ago. Living in this house is a privilege, though we don't really own it. With a historic home like this, each generation simply holds it for a brief period, improves it, and passes it to the next. I remember the previous owner telling us, once our offer had been accepted, that they believed we were the "right custodians" for the little castle. And that's precisely what we are—custodians, one of many who will spend time in this extraordinary place.

When we moved in, it took several days for our furniture to arrive. Our first night was quite an adventure, as our bedroom was invaded by bats! But I'm getting ahead of myself. In my next post, I'll share our first few weeks at the little castle.

Four years on, having tackled leaky roofs, faulty electrics, friendly ghosts and negotiations with the local heritage and planning officers, I don't regret our decision for a moment. I truly believe it was fate that I spotted the castle in Country Life that Saturday morning. The house was waiting for me to call it home.

I'm excited to share more castle adventures with you in future posts! What would you like to know about life in a historic Welsh home? The resident ghosts? Our bat colonies? The challenges of heating a centuries-old building? Let me know in the comments below, and don't forget to subscribe for the next instalment of our castle chronicles.

Lots of love,Mok x

P.S. You can also follow our restoration journey on Instagram and YouTube.