Where Does Martin Shaw Live Now

Okay, so you’re asking about Martin Shaw, right? The guy with that voice—like a warm, gravelly hug. You probably remember him as the Judge John Deed, or maybe the dashing Ray Doyle in The Professionals. Your aunt definitely had a poster of him in the '80s, don't lie.

But now, you're wondering: Where does Martin Shaw live now? Is he still in some glamorous London penthouse, sipping something expensive? Let’s get into it.

Spoiler: He Ditched the City Lights

First, let me just say, he’s not hiding. He’s just… opting for better air. Martin Shaw lives in Norfolk, England. That’s right, the guy who once chased villains down grimy alleys now chases rabbits out of his vegetable patch.

He moved there years ago, and he’s pretty smitten with it. He calls it home, and honestly, you can hear the relief in his voice when he talks about it. No more sirens, just the sounds of cows and the wind. Fancy that.

He’s got a house in a tiny village. I’m not naming it because, you know, privacy—and I’d like to keep my job. But let’s just say if you blink, you’ll miss it. He loves that about the place.

Why Norfolk? Really?

You might think, “Norfolk? Isn’t that just flat fields and aggressive seagulls?” Yes and yes, but Shaw sees it differently. He’s a birdwatcher, a massive one. Like, he gets genuinely excited about a rare marsh harrier.

He gave an interview once where he basically said London was draining his soul. I’m paraphrasing, but the gist was, he needed space, quiet, and dirt under his fingernails. You have to respect that kind of unsentimental honesty.

Plus, he owns a huge dog. A Hungarian Vizsla, I think? That dog needs room to run. You can’t give a Vizsla a "good life" in a studio flat in Soho. The dog would revolt.

What’s His Daily Life Like There?

Okay, picture this: Martin Shaw, in a cozy jumper, probably a bit tatty from gardening. He’s making tea. He’s reading a script, or maybe just a very long book about the Napoleonic Wars. That’s his vibe now.

He grows his own vegetables. I am not joking. The man who once shot a guy on screen (for justice!) now grows kale. He’s talked about his passion for gardening in interviews, and he sounds so pleased with his runner beans. It’s adorable.

And get this—he bakes his own bread. I imagine him kneading dough with the same intensity he used to deliver court verdicts. “You are guilty… of being under-proved.” The man has layers, okay?

Is He a Hermit Now?

No, no, not a hermit. He still works. He just doesn’t live in the fame machine. He’ll pop up for a play in the West End, or a guest role on a big BBC drama. He travels back to London when he wants to, not when he has to.

He’s said he likes the balance. He gets his theatrical fix in the city, then bolts back to the country to decompress. It’s like he’s a wild animal who’s been successfully reintroduced to his natural habitat. Don’t cage him again!

He also does audiobooks. And because his voice is liquid gold, people buy them. He can record those from a shed in Norfolk. Modern problems require modern solutions, Martin.

The Verdict on His Crib

So, to answer the burning question: Martin Shaw lives in a rural paradise in Norfolk. It’s full of bird feed, homegrown kale, and the gentle sound of him ignoring his phone. He swapped the red carpet for a muddy garden path.

Does he miss the hustle? Not a bit, he says. He finds the Norfolk landscape spiritually nourishing. Look, when a guy who played Doyle says that, you believe him. He’s too old to lie about real estate.

He’s living the dream, really. Not the "jet-set" dream, but the "I finally get to breathe" dream. And honestly? Good for him. He worked hard, he caught the bad guys, he judged the sinners. Now he judges his tomatoes.

Next time you watch a rerun of The Professionals, just picture Martin Shaw, hours later, in his wellies, muttering about slugs. It makes the car chases even better. Trust me. He’s home.