Bradford-on-Avon

Bradford-on-Avon is what happens when a wool town gets rich, forgets to industrialise properly, and then discovers that being pretty is a business model. The mills went, the tourists came, and now the buildings that once processed sheep process people looking for somewhere to have a nice lunch by the water. It is genuinely lovely, in the way that means the terraced weavers' cottage you fancy was built for someone earning a fraction of what you'll pay for it. Bath's overspill has been quietly colonising it for decades, and nobody in the queue for the deli is going to admit that's why they're here.