I’ve lived in Ewell my entire life, so I’ll admit this upfront: I’m biased.

But when property consultants Garrington Property Finders ranked it the 20th best place to live out of 1,447 towns across England and Wales, I didn’t roll my eyes the way locals often do when outsiders praise their hometown.

Instead, I wondered if I’d been taking it for granted, so I did something embarrassingly overdue.

I spent a day actually walking in Ewell (pronounced YOU’LL, not E-WELL), without a destination.

I started along Green Lane, where neat suburban houses gradually loosen their grip on the landscape.

Green Lane. (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)

The road narrows, and nature starts to overtake, and before you really notice the transition, you’re standing in Hogsmill Local Nature Reserve.

Winter has stripped the place back to its bones, so there are no dramatic colours or warm picnic scenes.

I tried to preserve dignity at first, stepping carefully along the edges, but five minutes later, I accepted defeat and committed to the squelch.

Further along lies Chamber Mead Wetland, a newly restored floodplain at the meeting point of Ewell Court Stream and the Hogsmill River.

Chamber Mead Wetlands. (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)

Designed to reduce pollution, improve biodiversity and help manage flooding, it’s a key part of restoring the river’s natural flow.

It’s a beautiful sight, which only gets better as the weather gets warmer and the sun finally comes out.

Hogsmill River runs through Ewell. (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)

Beyond the wetland, the Hogsmill’s famous stepping stones have finally reopened to the public after months of closure, though they still lie submerged, so I didn’t risk deliberately getting my shoes wet.

The route pulls you toward Ewell Court House, cared for by the Ewell Court Preservation Trust.

I’ve passed it countless times in my life, yet this was the first time I actually stopped to read about the restoration work.

Heading back toward the centre, Ewell shifts from countryside calm to commuter practicality.

Two separate stations, Ewell East railway station and Ewell West railway station, serve the area, and the bridges crossing the tracks unexpectedly double as viewpoints.

I paused halfway across one, where you can see the houses stretch out in the distance.

It looked cohesive, like the village had quietly arranged itself while I wasn’t paying attention.

Then there’s the circular 1970s building, Bourne Hall, which is futuristic beside older cottages.

Inside, there’s a library, community hub, theatre, and even a museum charting Ewell’s history from prehistoric settlement through Roman occupation to its suburban present.

Bourne Hall Museum. (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)

Standing minutes from the High Street, looking at Roman artefacts was surreal when I realised that I’d grown up here without really clocking how far back the story goes.

From there, I wandered onto the High Street, affectionately known as Ewell Village.

This was the moment that genuinely surprised me.

How had I never properly noticed the number of independent shops?

One of them was Honey & Bamboo, a zero-waste refill store offering everything from pasta to cleaning products by weight.

Honey & Bamboo. (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)

It felt modern and thoughtful, the sort of place you expect in a trendy neighbourhood, not one you’ve walked past since childhood.

Living somewhere can make you blind to it, where you see routes, but not places.

By early afternoon, I’d earned food.

For somewhere that feels small, Ewell has a surprising amount of choice, but I settled on gastropub The Spring Tavern.

The Spring Tavern. (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)

Even with scaffolding outside during ongoing works, it had that classy atmosphere inside with its warm lighting and easy chatter.

I went for the £21.95 two-course lunch deal, which did not disappoint in the slightest.

I can only imagine how packed it gets on Sunday when it comes to roast dinner time.

After lunch, I looped through more open land because, in Ewell, you’re never far from it.

Gibraltar Recreation Ground and Bakers Field sit minutes apart, part of a patchwork of parks stitched into daily life rather than set aside as destinations.

Gibraltar Square. (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)

Gibraltar Rec has just undergone a huge renovation after more than a decade of the same equipment.

Bakers Field is much more low-key, with less to do playground-wise, but still an expansive green space.

Something great about Ewell is the way something so unshowy ends up feeling incredibly complete.

The Chessington Road strip is a perfect example, where a humble run of shopfronts quietly covers everything from your emergency pint of milk to your late-night chips.

Parade of shops on Chessington Road, that has everything from corner shops, kebab shops, chicken shops, cafes, barbers, tanning salon, and laundrette. (Image: Ezekiel Bertrand)

On a drizzly weekday evening, when Classic Fry, Istanbul Kebab and the Co‑op are all lit up, it feels less like a random row of units and more like the village’s unofficial common room.

The strip has a barber, salon, launderette, and even a funeral director’s office.

By the end of the day, I understood something slightly uncomfortable.

I thought I knew Ewell because I’d lived here my whole life, but turns out I’d just been moving through it.

Ranking lists measure transport links, schools and property prices, but they don’t measure the experience of going from muddy riverside to historic museum to independent shops to a warm pub lunch all within a single afternoon.

Maybe that’s why the ranking didn’t surprise locals.

Ewell doesn’t try to impress you, but it just quietly works, and only when you stop do you realise how much was there the entire time.

So yes, I’m biased, but after finally spending a day properly seeing it, I’d probably rank it highly too.