The quaint Cornish town fighting to stop the next Eden Project

Tucked away in the upper reaches of the Fowey Valley, the little town of Lostwithiel looks a picture of serenity: a church steeple rising above a flag-strewn high street, a placid river burbling between the arches of a pretty medieval bridge, and steep wooded hillsides on all sides, with the crumbling curtain wall of Restormel Castle just visible over the rooftops.

It’s a vision of merry olde England with a Cornish tinge, but beneath the idyllic surface this is a town on the brink. The hot-button topic of planning and tourism, a perennial point of contention in Cornwall, has caused a deep rift in the community – one that has led to a two-year campaign of vitriol, vandalism and threats of violence.

The roots of the dispute lie on the outskirts of town. Gillyflower Farm is a large and ambitious project being run under the auspices of Sir Tim Smit, the Dutch-born businessman who founded two of Cornwall’s most popular attractions: the Eden Project and the Lost Gardens of Heligan.

Having acquired a run-down golf course on the edge of Lostwithiel four years ago, Smit and his son, Alex, laid out their grand plan: the golfing greens would be scaled back to make room for orchards; there would be a new clubhouse, but also a café, cookery school and an education centre for students of agriculture and horticulture, alongside 19 holiday lodges.

The backlash was swift and uncompromising. A group of locals formed a campaign group to oppose the plans, claiming that Tim Smit was out to “turn our beloved landscape into a tourist attraction and make a few more million from land he bought for a song”. They amassed more than 300 objections, arguing that the proposed development would harm a protected landscape, and in April last year the application was refused.

Now a new and amended planning application has been submitted, but tensions are still bubbling under the surface as residents await the final verdict.

“The town’s lost it,” said one shopkeeper I spoke to. “There have been threats, stickers being put up on our windows. One [supporter of Gillyflower Farm] had a note put through their letterbox, saying ‘You’d better stop this immediately, or next time this will be a petrol bomb’.

“The truth is we need something like Gillyflower, or else the town is going to die. There aren’t enough people coming here these days.”

If Lostwithiel is in tough straits, it hides it well. The main thoroughfare, Fore Street, has an air of prosperity not commonly found on Cornish high streets these days. There are pubs and cafés, antiques shops, a butcher’s and a couple of gift stores – almost all are independent and appeared to be thriving, although I couldn’t help but notice that hardly anybody was shopping on the crisp Tuesday morning of my visit.

“The only reason most of us are still going is that we own the buildings – if we were paying rent most of us would have gone under years ago,” another of the traders told me. He too was a supporter of the Gillyflower Farm development, but had tried as far as possible to remove himself from the discord.

“It is very toxic, although I don’t really know why. I think it would bring people to the town and do a lot of good for the locals,” he added.

I spoke to a number of other business owners that morning, and most agreed that the Smits’ proposals could only be good for the town. Nobody wanted to be named, however, for fear of any reprisals that might come their way for speaking out. The refrain was always the same: “I don’t want to end up with a brick through my window.”

That afternoon, I made the short trip up to Gillyflower Farm to meet with Alex Smit, who has been at the forefront of the project. As we walked through orchards of young apple trees, he explained the vision he and his father shared for the site while admitting that the strength and ferocity of the opposition he’d encountered had caught him off guard.

“I am regularly asked if I knew what I know now, would I embark on this project again. The answer is a resounding ‘yes’. I am happy to own my mistakes and learn from them, but my mistakes don’t make this a bad project.”

To date, the Gillyflower team has planted over 2,500 fruit trees, almost all of them old varieties. The aim is to experiment with sustainable farming methods and come up with new ways to produce fruit in a profitable but environmentally friendly manner.

There’s a potager where similar trials are being conducted with vegetable production, while other members of his team are exploring ways of managing the nine-hole golf course while supporting biodiversity. Alex is adamant that the findings will be shared with agricultural and golfing associations respectively, while produce from Gillyflower Farm will go to local businesses.

“We’re not Russian oligarchs – we believe this is exciting and important but we can’t afford to grow a project of this scale without a sustainable revenue stream to support it. We require the lodges and clubhouse in order to make the rest of it viable. It’s never been about profit.”

Alex and his team have borne the brunt of the anger from those opposed to Gillyflower Farm: some of them have been accosted in the street or in the town’s pubs; others have had their cars spat on. Even those working at Heligan and the Eden Project are wary of coming into Lostwithiel in the current climate, afraid of being seen as guilty by association. Still, they are resolute in their determination to see the project through to the end.

“I’ve lived in Cornwall most of my life and here in Lostwithiel for 13 years. It’s my local town and I firmly believe that this project will contribute positively to the community and landscape it sits within now,” said Alex Smit.

“I know I won’t convince everyone who is opposed to the project to change their view but that comes with the territory and it should not be a reason to not do something you genuinely feel is worth fighting for.”