The real Narnia

It is always tempting to wonder what Narnia could have been like if it were not at the end of a suburban cul-de-sac in Risinghurst in Oxford. Just imagine if the place that helped inspire C.S. Lewis to write his classic children's books could itself be magically transported from the land beyond the Oxford southern bypass to a place where visitors rarely travelled. Preston, perhaps, or how about Halifax.

This flight of fancy always crosses my mind as I discover anew the anonymous house at the end of Lewis Close, with only the signs bossily declaring "No coaches" and "View by appointment" offering any clue to its significance.

For in most other places the house where C.S. Lewis spent the last 30 years of his life would surely have been a literary shrine, the centre of huge advertising campaigns, offering guided tours, bookshops, cafes and a place to learn about a remarkable life, worthy of study at many different levels. And all the better, you might think, to find Lewis in the place where his genius flowered and he faced personal tragedy, rather than in a proposed children's story museum still to be built.

But in this Oxford suburb, the home Lewis shared with his older brother Warnie is occupied by visiting American students and owned by an obscure Californian-based foundation committed to advancing the renewal of Christian thought.

Ronald Brind, the taxi driver who offers tours of places connected with Lewis, is not alone in finding the absence of directions and even a plaque a sorry example of the city's indifference to tourists from home and abroad.

Mr Brind positively brims with sad stories of Americans wondering around the streets of Headington Quarry for hours trying to find the Lewis house, with locals looking blankly when asked for directions to "the Kilns".

And if Mr Brind, who as a boyhood friend of Lewis's stepson Dougie Gresham was a regular visitor to the author's household, is irritated by the lack of access to the house, he positively fumes by what has been happening in "the Real Narnia".

For this ordinary corner of Risinghurst, now filled with modern detached homes, offers something just as fascinating as Lewis's old home. It is the doorway to a magical place where the author walked, thought and sought inspiration; a place that, in Mr Brind's view at least, is being ruined by the local wildlife trust, BBOWT.

The woods with its impressive lake served as a dramatic backgarden for the Lewis brothers, which had led them both to fall in love with the Kilns in the first place.

In 1930, Warnie described its impact on them in his diary: "Jack (as C.S Lewis was known to friends and family) and I went out and saw the place, and I instantly caught the infection. We did not go inside the house, but the eight-acre garden is such stuff as dreams are made on. I never imagined that for us any such garden would ever come within the sphere of discussion.

"To the left of the house are the two brick kilns from which it takes its name, then a large bathing pool, beautifully wooded, and with a delightful circular brick seat overlooking it. After that a steep wilderness broken with ravines and nooks of all kinds run up to a little cliff, topped by a thistly meadow."

Their joy was made complete as they soon discovered that the pool, or lake in the woods, had "quite distinguished literary associations", being known locally as "Shelley's Pool", with local tradition holding that the great poet used to meditate there.

Yet what happened to this place of pilgrimage for Lewis devotees in recent years has been anything but poetic. The site was acquired by the local wildlife trust in 1969 with a grant from the World Wildlife Fund, and turned into a reserve.

Originally used as a teaching site, it only opened during holidays before strong interest led to 365 days-a-year public access. Rather than lovers of literature, however, in recent years Lewis's former back garden attracted vandals, rubbish dumping and scrambler bikes.

Visitors have repeatedly complained about the amount of rubbish strewn about the reserve. Mr Brind went as far as to say: "American visitors who come here in search of Lewis are distraught. They think it is horrendous."

During the winter, as the multi-million dollar Walt Disney version of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe was about to introduce the classic story to a worldwide audience, a new future was quietly being mapped out for the once tranquil area of woodland that helped inspire it.

For in a bid to avoid further damage, the trust decided to turn to the local community for help in a bold strategy. At a well attended public meeting in November, residents, schools and local agencies were urged to become part of a team that looked after the reserve, either by simply keeping an eye on the area or taking part in practical work.

"The idea was to set up a local Friends group which would take on the management of the reserve," BBOWT Community wildlife officer Becca Bolam explained to me as I joined her on a tour of the reserve. "Giving local people responsibility for the reserve has led them to really value it."

The newly formed Friends of C.S. Lewis Nature Reserve have been involved in extensive litter picking and it is unrecognisable from the passage in A Guide To C.S. Lewis Tour, which describes "a dumping ground for all sorts of rubbish, including a mix of bicycles, car seats, a wheelbarrow, metal frames, steel rope, bricks, stone, plastic drums, timber, bundles of newspapers and so much fermenting weed in the lake that there can be precious little oxygen left in the water".

There has been further good news, with an £18,000 grant awarded by WREN (Waste Recycling Environmental Ltd), a body which distributes money from landfill tax.

BBOWT says the money will be spent on improving access and boosting the educational potential of the site. There are also plans to improve a circular path around the reserve, restoring seating, cutting back vegetation around two ponds and for a pond-dipping platform, serving as an outdoor classroom for school groups. The work will be undertaken by volunteers.

Ms Bolam is unapologetic about the trust's approach which is ultimately more concerned with newts than Narnia and insects rather than Inklings.

"Our vision behind all this is to get people interested in wildlife and to create a reserve where wildlife can be appreciated."

It means, for instance, that a much-vandalised air- raid shelter created by Lewis in his back garden is to be restored. But not as an interesting wartime structure revealing how the threat of bombing even intruded on the life of a don in a semi-rural Oxford backwater (though one worryingly close to the armaments manufacturing at Cowley). It is to become a refuge for bats.

Lewis, however, is not being entirely forgotten. One of the first projects of the Friends group has resulted in a semi-circular stone bench overlooking the lake, one of the author's favourite spots, being uncovered after being overgrown for years. The worry now is whether uncovering it will expose it to the risk of damage in this unprotected area.

The policy of cutting down some non-native trees to make parts of the site less threatening and more accessible has also caused some upset among those who argue that the site should be kept as close as possible to the place where Lewis, and his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, found peace.

Mr Brind said: "I am still very perturbed. Why are BBOWT only now taking the trouble to do what they are doing? They have owned it since 1969. My guess is that it is only because Lewis is so topical with the release of the Disney film.

"But instead of cutting down trees they should concentrate on clearing up the undergrowth. General maintenance is all that is needed. I just wish they would stop interfering and just clean the place up. I have asked them if I could be allowed to manage it."

He is also believes it would be wise to erect a 12ft-fence around the site with gates closed at night to stop further vandalism.

Ask him what else should be done and Mr Brind will tell you of his passionate wish to see the demolition of the eight houses built in Lewis Close. He is soon describing how the orchards and tennis courts could be reinstated to return the Kilns to its former glory, the home Lewis would have known.

But that opportunity would appear to have gone, long ago consigned to the Shadowlands as Narnia fell victim to suburbia. The Kilns is never going to be Oxford's equivalent of the Bronts' Parsonage in Haworth.

There are no plaques or legions of visitors, only wild creatures and groups of schoolchildren and the odd reminder of war-time Britain. If the vandals can be finally banished, there is still enough of Narnia to fight for, whichever side you are on.