I joined WWOOF UK, with a view to having extra contacts involved with food production… So I could mix my stop-overs between WWOOF farms, Couch-Surfers and local B&B’s/Guesthouses…
The craic with these farms is an ‘exchange’, supposedly about four hours of work a day, six days a week get’s you room and board…
We never agreed a ‘price’ for my stay at this farm but walking dogs and shifting wood was mentioned to me by e-mail… I arrived in the early evening, about half eight-ish, and was welcomed by the man of the house, with a cup of tea and some biscuits.
‘Lovely’, I thought…
We talked about my trip and his farm… Used to be an accountant… Talked for a good while about his animals and he mentioned rare breeds. Having a few rare breeds and not really knowing what to do with them… He also mentioned me shooting straight off in the morning as I had so far to travel that day.
‘Double lovely’, I thought ‘maybe I could help them in another way?’.
The farmer and I walked about his pens and I took lots of pictures of his animals… Lambing time of year, so very busy…
‘Maybe I could help them out with information… As I’m going to be seeing farmers, producers, restaurants that would be interested in rare-breed animals.. that’d be perfect’, I formed the idea whilst shivering politely near the pens.
I even brought them the most incredible pork-pie of my life to share with them, from Brockleby’s near Melton Mowbray… They make hand-made organic pork-pies and the taste is just flipping’ marvellous!
We had dinner, ate and talked… Two proper WWOOFers there too: had their dinner and left the table to sleep. Approaching midnight… Time for myself to shoot off for some shut-eye.
Morning!
Shower!
Awkward scene…
No, nothing like that… I’m packed and ready to rock’n'roll, when the good woman of the house demands some sort of exchange for my safe keeping and sound sleep.
‘Ah ha’, I nod to myself ‘now unfolds my fabulous idea’…
I explain about all the places I’ll be visiting and people I’ll be meeting and so a fantastic exchange would be for me to put you in touch with people for you to find that market for your wonderfully well-reared rare-breeds.
No, you can walk the dogs for two hours…
Oh…
So off I trundled in the only pair of trainers I had, through sodden, icy cold grass, across fields, up, over, around and back.
By the time I’d got back I was too cold and wet, from the ground up, from my sodden trainers, , but also from the top down, because of the medium to heavey showers spraying across the parched fields.
‘Oh well’ I kept saying… ‘Their choice’… Muttering and mubbling as I went.
That was the start of a very wet day… But it ended in an eight bedroomed Georgian mansion! Haha… That’s another story entirely.
