Bright round doors in summery hues dot the lush, grassy hillsides of Hobbiton like wildflowers. Behind each doorway, comfortably appointed burrows wind into earth: each one home to a hobbit, or a family of the Shire’s rosy-cheeked little-folk.

Every hobbit-hole is unique, expressing the personality of its inhabitants with colour, gardens, furniture and the rustic debris of everyday life.

Across the stream from the Green Dragon Inn in Hobbiton, Ted Sandyman’s mill perches on the water’s edge next to a stony bridge. Behind its blue door, gears driven by the steady turning of a water wheel grind grains for the making of bread; a favourite food no Hobbit accustomed to the comforts of the Shire can long go without.