Moor End: Where Pigs Still Fly

A village with more stories than sense.

Down in Moor End, near Boothferry, there's a world where pigs still fly. Well, not literally, of course, but if you listen to the locals for long enough, you'll be convinced that anything is possible. In this place of rolling hills and dodgy pubs, the community has concocted more tall tales than you can shake a shepherd's crook at.

Word on the street is that there's a secret society of Morris dancers who only perform under a full moon. Their costumes are said to be made from the wool of triple-headed sheep, and their clashing bells can wake the dead. But if you should happen to stumble upon their midnight revelry, be warned: they only accept those who can tell a joke that's never been told before.

And don't let the quaintness fool you. Behind every thatched cottage is a story that would make your hair stand on end. There's a lady who insists on taking her pet goldfish for walks in a miniature wheelbarrow, and a retired sea captain who's building a full-scale replica of the Titanic in his back garden. And let's not forget about the mysterious crop circles that appear every August, which some swear are messages from the aliens who regularly visit the local pub.

But for all its oddities, Moor End is a place that you can't help but fall in love with. Whether it's the annual snail racing championships, the secret underground tunnels that allegedly connect every house in the village, or the fact that the local farmer keeps his cows in tutus 'to make them feel pretty', this is a community that embraces the bizarre and celebrates the absurd. So if you're ever passing through Moor End, make sure to stop by and listen to the pigs flying overhead. You never know what other wonders you might discover.