In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole. It was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

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, prettily adorned gardens, furniture, and the rustic debris of everyday life.

A humble dwelling, tucked beneath the Hill of the Baggins' Manor, adorned only with simple furnishings to accompany its deep blue door, and a spare load of wood for the fire-an essential for warmth and comfort.