In Ombersley, Zeena Lemon discovers the perfect place -- unless you're in urgent need of candles.

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker... An ancient English rhyme that could describe Ombersley, because this ancient and beautiful Worcestershire village to the west of the city has it all. Well, all except the candlestick maker.

To the baker and butcher, add the delicatessen, the hairdresser, the wine merchant, the pubs and restaurants, the golf, cricket, tennis and bowling club, the school and the medical centre and you begin to realise that although parts of the village resemble the set of a Merchant Ivory film, it is actually a thriving place for young and old.

The timber-framed buildings that characterise the old part of the village are evidence of its past. The road layout doesn't appear to have changed much since its mention in the Domesday book of 1086 as Ambreslege, when there were "two mills and twenty ploughs". In fact, the village is believed to have Saxon origins and was first mentioned in AD 706.

The village is still set in farm and parkland and owes much to its close association with the Sandys family, who still live at Ombersley Court, built for the first Lord Sandys in 1724. The Crown and Sandys arms -- a proper English pub -- also retains its name association with the family.

The medieval core of the village and surrounding areas are a designated conservation area and if you take time to wander along the main street, stop for lunch at one of the typically old English pubs or spend time walking around the masterful St Andrews church it is all the more apparent why villages of such character and history should be protected.

There are many fascinating buildings in the village and many intriguing myths, many involving Charles I and II. My favourite legend is that Worcestershire's very own sauce was first made in the village.

As you talk to locals and uncover facts and fictions you begin to realise that whether they are true or not, villages of such distinction are the very bones of our country and without them our history would appear transient and faceless.