Best County In England To Live In

So, you’re thinking of moving to England. Or maybe you’re just daydreaming about it, pretending your morning commute doesn’t involve a train that smells faintly of wet dog. Either way, you want the best county to call home. The one that makes you feel like you’ve won at life.

Let’s get one thing straight—there is no single “best” county. That’s a trap. It’s like asking which dog is the cutest. (Answer: all of them, obviously.) But if I had to pick one that balances everything—jobs, nature, pubs, and not having a postcode that costs your firstborn—it’s Oxfordshire.

Yes, I know. Dreaming spires and tourist crowds. But hear me out. Oxfordshire is the sweet spot where brainy meets charming. You’ve got the dreaming spires, sure, but also rolling Cotswold hills and river valleys that look like a greeting card.

Want proof? Let’s start with the vibes. The county has ancient woodlands where you can get lost for a whole afternoon—and probably will, because your phone signal will die. That’s not a bug; it’s a feature. You’ll actually talk to your hiking buddy.

What about jobs? Oxfordshire isn’t just a pretty face. Oxford itself is a tech and science hub. You can work in a lab that discovers new medicines, then pop into a 400-year-old pub for a pint. How many counties let you do that? I’ll wait.

Okay, but what about the vibe?

Let’s talk about the villages. Places like Woodstock, Burford, or Charlbury. They’re so cute you’ll want to hug a thatched cottage. Seriously, you’ll develop an irrational affection for stone walls and church bells.

The locals are a mix of uni types and old-school farmers. They mostly get along, bonding over the shared hatred of the A34. (Seriously, that road is a menace. You’ll learn to plan your life around traffic jams.)

But here’s the kicker: pub culture. Oxfordshire has some of the best pubs in England. The Trout at Wolvercote, the King’s Arms in Woodstock—these aren’t just places to drink. They’re life rafts for your soul, especially in January.

You can sit by a roaring fire, eat a pie that’s basically a hug, and pretend the outside world doesn’t exist. That’s pure, unadulterated magic. And it’s legal.

But what if you’re not a professor or a poet?

No worries. Oxfordshire is surprisingly down-to-earth. Forget the posh stereotypes. You’ll find farmers’ markets, canal barges, and kids in muddy wellies. The county doesn’t take itself too seriously.

There’s even a place called Didcot. It’s not pretty. It’s a power station with a train station. But even Didcot has its own charm—like the world’s most aggressive roundabout. Hey, you need contrast to appreciate beauty.

And the schools? Top-notch. Both state and private options. Your kids won’t just learn maths; they’ll learn how to argue about the best way to punt on the Cherwell. It’s a transferable skill.

Rival counties? Let’s dunk on them a little.

You might hear Cornwall thrown around. Lovely beaches, but try getting a job there. Or a house you can afford. Also, the internet speed is roughly that of two cans on a string.

What about Yorkshire? “God’s Own County,” they boast. Fair enough—the landscape is stunning. But the weather is basically a personal attack. And the “Yorkshire” accent? Lovely. But you might need a translator for the first six months.

The Cotswolds (technically a region, not a county) are gorgeous, but it’s a Stepford Wives situation. Everything is too perfect. You’ll feel judged by a well-groomed hedge. Oxfordshire is like the messier, cooler cousin who still cleans up for visitors.

So, is Oxfordshire perfect?

Nah, nothing is. House prices are absurd. You will weep at estate agents’ windows. And the traffic during term time is a special kind of hell. You’ll learn to love the sound of bicycle bells instead of car horns.

But here’s the secret: the access. You can be in London in an hour by train. You can be in the middle of nowhere in twenty minutes by car. You get the best of both worlds—city energy and rural quiet.

Plus, the farm shops are legendary. You’ll buy a wedge of cheese aged in a local cave, and you’ll think, “Yes, this is why I moved here.” It’s the little things.

And let me not forget the summer festivals. Blenheim Palace hosts concerts. The river gets crowded with punts and laughter. You’ll feel smug every time someone in London complains about the heat or the tube strikes.

So, is Oxfordshire the best county in England to live in? I’m saying yes—for the blend of work, play, and proper pies. But if you choose somewhere else, that’s okay. Just don’t tell me you picked Slough. We’ll still be friends. Probably.

And hey, if all else fails? Move to Oxfordshire for the cemeteries. They have excellent flower displays. Dead people don’t complain about the cost of living. See? Win-win.

Now go book a weekend trip to Woodstock. You’ll thank me later. Or you’ll get lost on the A34 and curse my name. Either way, it’s an adventure.