Tales from a Not-So-United Kingdom

September 29 - November 5
WWOOFing (working on farms in Scotland, Wales, and England)

Scottish Highlands and Islands

One of our WWOOF hosts said he thought it wouldn't be long until Scotland was independent. He said that the most significant barrier was the Scottish people themselves. A majority want independence, but also lack confidence in their ability to govern themselves. But it's only a matter of time he thinks. Scotland already seems like its own country. It feels different, it looks, different, the people are different. Hopefully, after three weeks there, I'll be able to pick out a Scottish accent without hesitation! Ellie and I loved Scotland. We loved the VERY talkative and friendly people, the dramatic, dark, and often surreal landscapes, and most certainly the Highland cows (for another of my low-fi, hand held videos, click on my Youtube link on the right-hand side of my blog to see a couple of these bizarre, adorable creatues)!

Croft 7

Our first farm was called Croft 7, run by Sheila and Les Bates. Croft 7 is located near Inverness, in the northeastern part of Scotland. Crofts are traditional landholdings in Scotland used for small scale farming.





Work we did: harvested peas and beans; picked white strawberries; planted marjoram, lavender, and heather; sawed a couple young willow trees and dug turf to make a math; transplanted a gate; picked wild mushrooms; weeded, weeded, weeded.

Free time activities: spun yarn, knitted, spun yarn, knitted, drank tea, knitted, spun yarn, drank tea. Went to Inverness on the weekend. At night Ellie and I would return to our tiny, cozy little cabin that sat on top of a hill overlooking the croft. We'd crank up the heater and crawl into the warm doube bed we shared. With hats on and fingers and noses chilly we'd knit until midnight, when we'd turn into pumkins--or rather, giants balls of yarn.


















Sheila was an excellent cook. We ate: lots of delicious salad made entirely with greens from the garden--chicory (spicy and flavorful), mint, and various lettuces, lots of tasty small potatoes from the garden; homemade pizza and pot pie; steamed greens like kale and radiccio; rice and smoked haddock casserole; haggis with mashed potatoes and mashed turnips (contrary to popular opinion, or belief, quite delicious); boiled broad beans and carrots; pasta with tomato and vegetable sauce; quiche; beef stew; minto and potato soup; celery soup; homemade jams and chutneys; homemade elderberry and cheery wine; fruit crumbles, fruit cake, stuffed baked apples, pie.

Favorite tool: pick axe (excellent for loosening tough ground)
Favorite crop: white strawberries (so sweet, so pretty)
Plant enemy: Bracken (large invasive fern-like plant), luckily fairly easy to pull up

WHOrganics
Our second farm was WHOrganics (West Highland Organics), run by Simon and Eileen Calder. We actually weren't on a farm but right in the middle of a charming Highland town-Ullapool (pop. 1300). We worked in a few different gardens around this delightfully walkable village. Our hosts were warm and wordly, having lived and worked in agriculture in Argentina, Brazil, and Jamaica. Simon often worked in a kilt.












Work we did: Cleared strawberry beds, moved sand and insulation, harvested potatoes, picked apples, planted onion, trimmed asparagus plants, picked spinach, and worked at 2 farmers markets!





Favorite tool: Pitchfork (I know it's cliched farm tool, but they're so useful)
Favorite crop: Potatoes (so fun to harvest--it't like a treasure hunt!)
Plant enemy: Nettle (of the stinging variety)

Free time activities: wandered around the town; got local whiskey, heather ale, and cider at a nice bar; swam laps at the leisure center, went with our host to see a future archaeological excavation site; pet the cats; drank tea. One day we took an amazing hike. At dinner on our first full day Simon and Eileen, being the extremely easy-going and generous hosts that they were, recommended we do a particular ridge walk the next day because the weather was supposed to be good. The next morning the weather was indeed "good" so Simon drove us part of the way there through stunning mountains and moorland. He dropped us off where he was visiting his brother, and we hitched the rest of the way (and all the way back), picked up by extremely friendly people in nice cars, in the region for various business. Our hike started at 11:15 am. We left the road and hiked west though a beautiful moor--deep red moss and purlple-pick heather blanketed the rough, wet, dark landscape. We followed parallel to the steep ridge we were to climb, with another mountain looming on our other side. The heavy mist and clouds covered the tops of the mountains and provided a spooky, dramatic ambiance. We reached the edge of the back end of the ridge, ate tahini and cheese sandwiches on homemade bread and apples right of the tree, and started our rocky ascent up to the top (with a plan to follow the ridge east back to the road). The views of other mountains and hundreds of inland lochs for as far as we could see were stunning. We had almost 360 degree views. We continued to climb along this backbone, as if walking on a giant tight rope, and pausing often to try to capture our surroundings in photographs (Ellie and I, luckily both photo addicts, have established approximately a 1:5 walking to photographing ratio (walk one minute, take 5 pictures, repeat). We climbed and climbed, and reached the peak of Mt. Quinag. Heavy clouds and mist engulfed us as we took a dozed self-timer photos of the two of us together, and each placed a stone on a cairn, a rock pile that to me meant I-reached-the-top! We searched around for the path down--difficult to find being able to see only 15 feet or so in front of us. Sheer cliffs dropped off on two sides, the third was the way we came up. Finally we found a path down on the last side. We hiked and hiked, getting wet and cold in the mist, disoriented and rapidly losing the happy and eager loutlook that the beautiful surroundings and each other's company had provided for us. Finally the ground came into view below us on our left, to the west, and it was not what it was supposed to be. If we were heading east, below on our left should have been the moor we hiked in on, and one small loch. Instead the ground was littered with locks, and the sea spread out beyond them. We bcame more disoriented as the mist blew around us and we started trying to rationalize why it was we were seeing what we were. We finally started to descend from under the clouds. The lake that was supposed to be on our left appeared clear as day on our right. After an extremely confused moment, we realized that we had just retraced our steps, having come back down the ridge the same way we came up! Have you ever been totally sure you're going in one direction when you find out that in fact you were going in the direct opposite? Not only that, but we were on the same exact path we had hiked up on! "Omigod I feel like I'm on drugs," Ellie said and sank onto a rock. We let everything sink in, then soberly continued our descent back onto the moor, and hiked back to the road, pausing every so often to stare at the shrouded ridge peak and comment on how and why we got so turned around. We made it back to the road, warmed up and happy that at least were now knew where we were. We stuck out our thumbs and were picked up by a family of fellow hikers who we had passed on the trail a few hours before (they obviously were a lot more prepared than we were, with walking sticks, big backpacks, and undoubtedly a compass). We made it home, greeted warmly by Simon and Eileen, with a light-hearted "We were starting to you worry about you two!" It was nice to be worried about.














After Ullapool Ellie and I travelled for a week in the Hebrides, a group of islands of the west coast of Scotland. In the Hebrides we heard Gaelic spoken, stayed in a hostel in a restored traditional dwelling, visited standing stones (like Stonehenge), walked on whitesand beaches in the sun (are we in Scotland), and took another hike in the mist ("I think I see some amazing rock formations above us"). The landscapes were unreal, particularly on the Isle of Lewis:
Brillian greens and browns layering the undulating landscape like frosting. Stones jutting up through the turf and scattered like sprinkles. Furry chestnut-colored Highland cows and fluffy creme-colored sheep. Moody lochs dotted with surfing whitecaps, like glinting daggers stabbing the rocky landscape. Ruined centuries-old dwellings, roofless and grown over with apple-colored grass. Modern homes with manicured lawns and flower beds, laundry flying horizontally with the Hebridean wind.
















Dyrrfyn Isaf
Our next farm was very exciting because it had animals! Dyffryn Isaf, located in Pembrokshire, Wales, is run by Bettina and Stephen. Our first encounters with sheep, goats, and chickens taught us many things, such as: sheep are extremely skiddish, goats are extremely friendly and will eat anything, and there's a reason why "chicken shit" is a phrase.








Our work: Every morning Ellie and I fed the chickens and collected eggs! We worked for a few days clearing and pruning hedges. We also picked apples, harvested potatoes, and cleared beds in the polytunnel (like a green house but dome-shaped and the walls are plastic sheets). On our last day we hearded sheep (no easy task!) into a pen, then took one out at a time (an even harder task) to have it's hooves clipped and treated to prevent hoof rot.








A typical evening went like this:
The room is warm
Ellie and Bettina are spinning
the soft hum of the wheels...
I'm sitting next to the wood burning stove
I'm holding a cat
I'm preparing wool to spin
We're eating stewed apples and raspberries
Scottish music is playing

Our free time: spinning spinning spinning and knitting knitting knitting. One day we took a walk along the Pembrokeshire coast trail--186 miles of beautiful coastline walking.






Favorite tool: Lopper (aka pruning shears...have you ever stood in the middle of a giant blackberry bush, Hawthorn thorns three inches long beside that, and been asked to clear it all away?)
Favorite crop (well, food product): fresh goat's milk
Plant enemy: Blackberry (with Hawthorn coming in at a close second)

Carthvean Farm
Our last farm in the UK was in Cornwall, England. Julie and Andrew Taylor-Browne run Carthvean farm, a beautiful expanse of 70 acres set on rolling hillsides. Cornwall is the farthest southwest part of the UK. Julie and Andrew were warm and welcoming. We quickly felt at home, helping ourselves to a myriad of delicious goodies in their kitchen, drinking fresh goat's milk, eating homemade bread, watching movies, and drinking wine.







Our work: herding and feeding alpacas, goats, and sheep; feeding chickens and collecting eggs; harvesting sweet potatoes; marathon apple scrubbing, chopping, and crushing to make apples juice; harvesting honey!!; preparing branches for firewood; and cleaning up moss and weeds from the side of the house.









Free time activites: Julie and Andrew give their WWOOFers the whole weekend off, so we had a great time exploring Cornwall. We visited quaint villages and did more walking on beautiful coastal paths.

Favorite tool: Wand (to herd the alpacas)
Favorite crop (food product): Honey
Plant enemy: Nettle (got me bad again while harvesting potatoes)






I miss everyone. I continue to have a fabulous time, but know that I am now at peace with returning home because I have started to make note of ideas for teaching next year. If I, despite my recent schoolyear from hell, and carefreely travelling Europe now, am starting to look forward to teaching, it must be a sign.
I'm in Rome now! I have escaped to "the Continent," away from such things that bother me in the States like inefficient and overpriced trains, people toting their children around on leashes, deep fried everything, and roudy youngsters drinking beer at 10 a.m. It's warm and sunny outside, I've been inside our very nice hostel on the computer for almost three hours, and am starting to twitch.