Over and Out

Today is my last morning on the farm. I’m off to San Francisco for the weekend, then back home to Seattle Tuesday evening. I’m glad to say goodbye to my rooster tormentor and alarm clock, watering trees, collecting rocks and building fences. I’ll miss the goats, the dogs, eating fresh eggs collected the day before and making meals from fresh garden veggies and goat’s milk.

Bounty from the garden. Veggies, fruit, goat's milk, cheese and homemade bread

I was disappointed at first with this place because I wasn’t really doing a lot of food harvesting or food preserving or other things associated with farming, but life is what you make of it, so I changed my attitude and got out of this experience what I could. I became familiar with chickens and gathering eggs, was taught how to milk a goat (though I admit, I’m not great yet), learned to cook with what was available rather than running to the grocery store, and met some really interesting people.

I realized a few years back that you can’t always get what you want, but you find sometimes you get what you need (yes, that’s a Rolling Stones song). In the last year of traveling and volunteering I learned so much that I don’t regret anything that I did. I learned about stinging nettles and sheep in England, bees and ducks in Wales, history and friendship in Croatia, gratitude and love in Nepal, and goats and forgiveness in California.

I also learned about myself and how to be less selfish, how to love myself despite and maybe even because of my imperfections, and how to just let go.

I am lucky enough to have wonderful friends and family that love me and want nothing but the best for me. This last year or two of transition for me has been tough and I appreciate everything everyone has done for me. From putting a roof over my head, to taking care of me when I was deported, to sticking by me during my emotional turmoil, to loving me and supporting me no matter how needy and pathetic I became. This applies to several people, and I think you all know who you are.

I am not a fan of being left or when things change, which makes my wanderlust both make sense and provide confusion. I like to be the one that leaves, because staying somewhere someone has left is lonely and makes me sad. But I like routine and any disruption to this leaves me lost and anxious. I’m working on this though and am learning to accept things as they come and to just go with the flow.

I want to end this post with a happy, funny story, so I’ll share with you my encounter with a Black Widow spider (I think).

This is how swollen my leg was the day after the attack

I was walking the 100 yards or so from the barn to the house. I had been working hard and it was a hot day, so I was looking forward to getting a tall glass of ice water and sitting in the cool house for a few minutes. I decided to walk a different way than I usually do because I wanted to look for rattlesnakes. There is a fence behind the house where the tall grass has been weed-whacked because there’s a cable box or something that a man from the electric or phone company has to come look at once a month. I usually take the shorter, steeper path, but decided to follow the fence because maybe that’s where the snakes were. I was almost to the spot where the new path met my usual path when I got a sharp pain on my Achilles tendon. I thought “Mother f***er!”, then quickly turned around hoping to catch the snake that got me. I saw no movement whatsoever and just assumed it must have been a star-thistle instead. The pain intensified with a burning sensation so I took off my shoe and sock, searched both for any creature or plant, then cleaned the area. There was a definite puncture mark below a small scratch. I showed Rich and he immediately thought it was a spider bite. We returned to the scene of the incident with no luck finding anything. Black Widows nest on the ground and could have bitten me when I disturbed its nest. I quickly did an internet search and found out that although venomous, the Black Widow bite is rarely deadly. Phew.

I think this is funny for three reasons. One, because I had decided not to wear my boots that day because I didn’t want an odd tan line; two, because I was looking for rattlesnakes and was a little disappointed that’s not what bit me; and three, because being bit by a venomous spider is a really cool story! It makes me feel Australian (aka macho). I will definitely exaggerate and pull out all the stops when I recount this story to people. In just a few tellings, I’ll have been hiking in the wilderness, all alone, at night, and there will be a nest of spiders the size of grapefruits. It’s amazing I’m still alive really. 😉

Alone again, naturally ;)

Today is the first day of the last week on the farm here in Napa. I’m the only here this week, as the other WWOOFer left yesterday. There was a bit of drama involved with her early departure, but I’ll come to that later. I’m sitting in my room, alone and lonely, eating from a grab bag of mini candy bars (Reeses, KitKat, Almond Joy, and Hershey’s) and contemplating life.

Ok, I’m really just contemplating chocolate, but I’m thinking a little bit about what I accomplished by coming here and if I’m a different/better person for it. I am trying to see the bright side of every situation and I definitely think coming here was a good idea and I’ve taken a lot away from it. Sure, I didn’t learn as much as I hoped, but I did use the time here to do a bit of self-reflection and I learned a lot about myself. I actually had a very difficult personal issue arise while I was here and it turns out that being here, in practical isolation, helped me deal with it. I’ve been accused of over-thinking at times, but I think that in this case it actually helped me.

Anyway, this week started off with a bang and I am hoping the rest of the week is as exciting. I haven’t been sleeping lately because I’m a worry wart and going back to reality has me a bit nervous, so I was awake at 2 this morning when I noticed the wind pick up. It happened kind of suddenly and something was blown over in the car port and made a very loud noise. I wasn’t too concerned about what it was and I sure as hell wasn’t going to get up in the middle of the night to check it out. Not with coyotes, foxes and mountain lions roaming about. I actually love rain storms and mild wind storms at night because I’m always happy to be snuggled up in my bed feeling safe when they hit. I wasn’t sleepy at all, so just kind of sat up and listened to the wind and the coyotes.

Not my mouse, but he was this cute 😦

I dozed on and off until about 4:30, when I heard a SNAP! I knew immediately that it was the mouse trap because I had heard rustling during the moments I was awake. I thought I could just ignore it and eventually it would stop, but I couldn’t rest knowing that a poor mouse was caught and dying  about 7 feet from my bed. I summoned all of my courage and turned on the light and walked over to the trap. Sure enough, there was a mouse, writhing around, stuck. I didn’t know what to do, so went into the kitchen, grabbed some rubber gloves and picked up the trap. I thought the mouse would try to bite me, but I think he was too scared. He was a cute little bugger, with huge eyes and a long, skinny tail. I took it outside and opened the trap only to see him THUMP! onto the deck. I was too late. I knew he was probably laying there, suffering, but I didn’t know what to do, so just left him there and went back inside. How do you humanely kill a mouse? With a tiny revolver? Stab him in the heart with a sword the size of a toothpick? Give him a small dagger to perform Seppuku (hara-kiri)? Since I had none of those things, I merely left the scene and went back to bed. Poor mouse.

The rest of my day was pretty uneventful. It was really hot, about 95 degrees so I was hoping I’d see a rattlesnake, but so far I haven’t. I should go out right now, because I guess they like to lay over by the pond about now, but I am too tired and sick on chocolate. I always eat so many more snack size candy bars because I figure that because they’re smaller, they must be better for me. Ha ha.

I’ll try to update in the next couple of days, but the internet here is sporadic and slow. I’ve been taking lots of video and pictures of my day-to-day activities to eventually post on here. I want to make a movie of all the farms I’ve been on, but I think that will have to be done once I’m back in Seattle. I was watching some of the videos yesterday and they’re pretty fun.

I’m off to grab a Blue Moon to watch the red moon rise. One day down, only 4 more to go.

(Oh! And the drama…so every weekend on Saturday, Rich and Alice go to town to buy groceries. They have gone every Saturday since I’ve been here (7 weeks) and I have always gone with them in order to get off the farm for a while. So all last week, the other WWOOFer, who shall remain nameless, was craving prosciutto and Sprite so we planned on getting those things when we went to town on Saturday. We talked about it Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Finally, it was Saturday and we woke up and got dressed early so we would be ready when they decided to go out. We would leave our room occasionally to go into the kitchen for a needed item, hoping they would tell us, “We’re gonna leave soon,” but by 11 a.m. and no mention of town, we were growing impatient. I finally just asked if we were going because I was having a phone issue I wanted to take care of. “Oh,” said Rich, “we’re not going to town today.” What?! “I did the shopping last night when I was in town to check on the car battery.” I just smiled and asked if maybe he could take me down there at some point before the stored closed so I could fix my phone. I was thinking, “Do you think, possibly, you could let us know that you were going to deviate from the normal plan?” He said that once they were done cooking and before 5 pm, when they were expecting a guest, Alice would drive me down. WWOOFer girl lost it. All she wanted was some fancy ham and a little sugar-water. I’ll spare you the extensive venting that occurred and just say that she decided then and there that she had enough and that she was leaving the next day. There were other factors involved, but I think she mostly just wasn’t getting as much out of this experience as she’d hoped and she was fed up. I know the feeling. I’ve felt that way for the past 2 weeks, but figured I’d stick it out for the last week and just endure it. Besides, I was going to have someone else here to share the drudgery. Oh well. I think in the end that it was the best decision for her and staying is the best decision for me. )

I’m Having Fun

I have to admit, my first few weeks here on the farm were kind of lonely. It was only me, Rich and Alice so I did a lot of reading and watching documentaries on my computer. My 3rd week here another WWOOFer showed up, but he was a lot younger than me and kept to himself. So I just kept reading and watching shows on my laptop.

Monterey Bay, early morning

Then the last weekend in July my weekends started looking up when a good friend suggested meeting up in Monterey and driving the Pacific Coast Highway south as far as we could go in 3 days. So we traveled down to San Simeon, Cambria, San Luis Obispo, Morro Bay, Pismo Beach, Guadalupe, Santa Maria, then back up to Fresno so I could catch a train back to Napa. It was great fun and beautiful and I didn’t want to go back to the farm.

The weekends since have been more active and less lonely and boring. A new WWOOFer arrived last weekend, a female, and we went on a long hike, found a swimming hole, then played pool with the guys that live in a rented house here on the property. Then this past weekend some friends came up from San Francisco and we went to lunch, then drove down SR 29 and visited some wineries and had a really good time.

Secret waterfall

Next weekend I might go to Sacramento just to check it out, and I hope to visit San Francisco at least one more time before I leave California, then only one more weekend until I’m Seattle-bound.

I plan on enjoying every minute while I’m here for the last 3 weeks. We discovered a local watering hole with waterfalls and swimming pools that requires a little illegal trespassing to get to, but it’s well worth the risk. And I’m really getting used to waking up early (at least that’s what I’m telling myself) and feeding the animals and working hard. I enjoy it here, because I’m here, so why not? but I’m ready to settle down and stop traveling for a while.

I’ve been on the move for just over a year now! I’ve seen some wonderful places, met some wonderful people and made some fantastic friends. I would never have guessed last year when I lost my job in mid-May that this is where I would end up. The way I thought of it, my story was to work out a little differently, but everything thus far has happened for a reason and I’m happy with the adventure so far. Sure, I’ve encountered some disappointment but I’ve also learned a lot about myself and grown so much in the last year and a half. All the bumps along the way have given me some bruises that may take a long time to heal, but they will heal. And I honestly believe that everything has worked out the way it was supposed to work out and that there’s more adventure to come!

I can’t wait. 🙂

Chicken and All the Trimmings

Now I know that some of you are going to assume, with that title, that we killed and ate Spot. That is not the case. I’ve actually kind of grown fond of the little pecker-head. He still attacks me, like today when I tried to make sure his water dish was full, but I like his predictability. It brings me comfort.

The diagram from the book

No, the chicken and trimmings I’m referring to are the hens whose wings we clipped today. I was excited to learn something new, and though I only wanted to watch, I ended up doing most of the clipping. I was frightened at first because I didn’t want to hurt the chickens, but we had a book, Chickens in Your Backyard, with pictures that showed me where to cut. We were only clipping one wing so that the chickens feel off-balance when attempting to fly.

I had a great time doing it and after most of the hens were done, Alice, Rich’s wife, came over and asked to finish the last 3 or 4. I handed over the scissors and became the hen transporter. Once their wings were clipped, we moved them over to the bigger chicken coop to live with the 6 other hens and 3 roosters. In total, there are 24 chickens now. That’s a lot of eggs. I think we gather about a dozen a day now.

Rick holding the chicken, while I clipped the wing. Funny that I'm wearing a Toledo Mud Hens t-shirt. 🙂

All four of us, Rich, Alice, myself and another WWOOFer, all contributed to this fun farm chore. I was just happy that the little hens got to move out of their cramped quarters to the bigger pen. Soon we’re going to cordon off part of the orchard so the chickens can be free. Well, as free as they can be without being able to fly.

I only have a month left here on the farm. Another WWOOFer is arriving this weekend so I’m excited to meet someone new and have someone new to talk to. Since it’s another female, we’ll be roommates.

In September, I’ll be returning to Seattle. A couple of months earlier than expected, but the most beautiful month in Seattle, so I’m excited for that. Hopefully I’ll be able to eat the damson plums, apples, pears, tomatoes, onions and potatoes before I go. They’re not quite ready yet, but I hear they all will be before the end of August.

Here’s to dreaming about apple pies, mashed potatoes and damson jam.

In the Swing of Things

I’ve settled into the routine here, so there’s not much new stuff to report. Spot, the evil rooster, is still attacking me though we moved him to a different location. A new location where I have to go to feed the goats and water the trees. Twice a day and 3 times a day on Monday and Thurs. So I’m constantly being charged at by the Roostersaurus Rex. You’d think that being bigger than him would prevent my fear, but it doesn’t. He’s got lethal claws and a dangerous beak and red eyes. Yes, that’s right. Eyes that just scream evil. So I just keep kicking him or waving sticks at him and that seems to work.

Having a routine may seem boring to some, but I actually like it. We get up early to feed the goats and chickens between 7 and 8 a.m. and I love walking along the road on the property and seeing the blue sky, the sun rising and birds chirping “Good morning!” It’s sometimes foggy in the morning, but that usually burns off by 10 or 11 and the temperature usually reaches between 85-95 degrees. I thought I would hate the heat, but I actually don’t mind it. It’s a dry heat and there’s usually a nice breeze. After living in Seattle and San Francisco, I welcome the warm, sunny weather with wide-open arms.

Spot?

I like to go walking in the evenings after dinner to take pictures. Rich’s brother, Bob, was here last week with a really cool camera and long lens. He took some amazing pictures of dragonflies, birds and frogs. He taught me how to immobilize and handle a lizard, and how to do the same with a frog. It’s as simple as spraying the lizard with water, which makes him slow down, which allows you to pick him up. Once you pick him up, you flip him over and start rubbing his tummy and he’s paralyzed. His belly is actually quite pretty and multi-colored. I wish I had gotten pics, but I just never took the opportunity. There’s still time.

So my second week ended quite uneventfully. A new WWOOFer is supposed to show up sometime this weekend, though I’m told that quite a few of them have been flaky. I hope that’s not the case with this guy, because if he shows up, there will be more work to do and I’ll get to learn more. And he has a car, so it would be nice to be able to leave the farm occasionally and go out exploring in the evenings and on weekends.

Tomorrow is the beginning of another work week and hopefully something exciting will happen. Will Spot ever stop attacking me? If he doesn’t, will we end up eating him (gulp)? Will I finally see a rattlesnake? Will the new WWOOFer show up?

All this and more, in the next installment of…….Life on a Goat Farm in Napa, Calif.

Atlas Peak Farm

So starting July 5, I’ll be living here for 2 months. There are fruit and nut trees, goats, of course, and chickens for eggs. I had to “pass” a phone interview with Rich Levy, the owner, in which we talked about everything under the sun. He asked me about my farming experience, if I can cook (gulp!), what my long-term plans are and why I chose his farm. I had to confess that I’m not the most knowledgeable of chefs, but that I love to experiment and learn and the reason I chose his farm is because, well, it was one of the first I came across in the WWOOF farms listing. I was a little nervous about confessing that, but he just laughed and said “Lucky me.”

These goats do not look like the milking kind...

His requested half hour interview actually stretched for an hour, partly because we had a lot to say and partly because he was telling me stories about the farm and what to expect. For instance, he has 5 dogs on the farm:  three goat herders (how cute is that!), and two house dogs. The goat dogs live outside and spend the whole night watching over the goats so they don’t get attacked or eaten. I laughed nervously and asked what wildlife he worried about. I was shocked (laugh if you must) when he mentioned that the day before my phone call he had to take one of the goat dogs to the vet. Apparently she had been attacked by a mountain lion the night before and was in need of some bandaging.

Wait. Did you just say MOUNTAIN LION?! What have I gotten myself into?

Rich said I have nothing to worry about and obviously the dogs were fantastic at their jobs because she had only been hurt and not killed, and none of the goats had been eaten or even attacked. Good point. Besides, I don’t plan on wandering around the farm in the middle of the night, or even past 10 PM, my current bedtime.

I hope to leave Atlas Peak in September having learned a lot. How to cook more than just spaghetti and cheese sandwiches, how to bake bread from scratch, how to preserve jam, how to milk a goat and make goat cheese, how to harvest nuts, and how to avoid mountain lions. I can’t wait for this part of my journey to begin…

What a long, strange trip it’s been

So I have 2 more farming gigs that will last me until November. In September I’ll be outside of Redding, CA and in October I’ll be in Cloverdale, CA. The plan will be to return to Seattle in November and stay through the New Year, at which point I’ll make the move back to my roots in Ohio. From Ohio I will research schools, farms and jobs in order to make my move to the Northeast USA by fall of ’11. I’m a little behind schedule as far as the big move east goes, but I’m accomplishing a lot as far as my personal life is concerned, so I’m ok with it.

I am still not 100% sure about what I’m going to do, but I’m still very interested in urban farming, city planning and permaculture. I have an appointment to speak with a professor of Urban Planning at Berkeley next week at which point I’ll ask her the dozen or so questions I’ve written down about what possible direction I should go education-wise. I’ve been looking at schools with urban design and city planning degrees and what each program offers. And I’ve been looking into doing a farm internship for next spring/summer. I still have to study for and take the GRE, Graduate Record Examination (blech!), which would enable me to get accepted into a Master’s program somewhere.

There’s a lot to do, but I’m motivated and eager to do it!

Yet another new direction

I was recently asked what I was going to do now that I was unemployed and mooching off of my friend in San Francisco. I had originally thought I wanted to return to school to eventually get my PhD in Psychology but the idea of 5+ years of school really turned me off. So she asked me what was the last thing I did that I really enjoyed. After serious consideration, I realized that spending last year WWOOFing in the UK had been a blast. Of course the travel part had been fun, but the farming had been fantastic. When I was working on the last farm in Wales, I enjoyed every day immensely. I looked forward to getting up and getting started with whatever was to be my job that day.

So I thought about my career options and talked it over with some friends and came up with a rough 5-year plan. I want to do something with urban farming and education. My ideal job would be planning communities around a central farm or large garden (a p-patch type place) and teaching children about farming and where their food comes from.

I’ve been in contact with a few Urban Planning professors at top national universities and hope to speak with them soon about my options. I want to spend about 6 months doing a farm internship, then go back to school Fall of ’11 to get some sort of Urban Planning degree. I know this is a complete 180 degree turn from getting a PhD in Psychology, but it just feels right and I’m actually pretty excited about my future.

I don’t really know yet what type of degree I’ll have to get, which is why I want to talk to profs and people in the field about what would be the best fit for my ideal. I’m so excited about being able to teach, work outdoors and learn something new! It’s really interesting too because is seems that San Francisco has a lot going on with the whole sustainable lifestyle/urban farming movement. I seem to be in the right place at the right time for a change!

I love it when everything seems to come together so nicely. See, Mom? Being laid off and going abroad for 6 months wasn’t the worst thing I could have done! 😉

I’m not a crook!

I have been traveling throughout the UK now for almost 4 months. I’ve seen so many lovely places and met so many lovely people and really enjoyed my time there. My British fixer and good friend Simon has added to this enjoyment by allowing me to use his house in Bebington, near Liverpool, as a sort of base so that I could come and go as I  pleased. When I met him in February I had no idea what a good friend he would become and how much his friendship would benefit my life. He’s an inspiration and a rock, and though I sometimes don’t realize and often complain, I don’t know what I would have done without him when Mother England decided she no longer wanted me in the country and deported me.

Shocked? I was too. Let me explain so that you understand exactly what happened and what an injustice it was.

Simon and I decided to travel to Rovinj, Croatia, where his brother had an apartment, to get some sun. The English summer had been disappointing to say the least so sun was a much needed therapy for us both. I was really excited to be able to see a part of the world I probably wouldn’t have seen otherwise. We bought cheap tickets via Ryanair and would stay 5 days, long enough to see a lovely town, get some sun and just relax.

I’ll definitely write a blog post about my time in Croatia, seeing as it hasn’t quite ended, but this post is dedicated to my experience upon returning from Rovinj to London Stansted Airport.

As per usual, when returning to one country from another, we had to pass through Customs. By the looks on their grumpy faces we suspected that the Customs’s agent would be somewhat difficult. The one we got just looked mean and unfriendly. He proved us right by red-flagging my passport because it hadn’t been stamped when I returned to the US from my trip to the UK back in February. This was suspect to him and, so he thought, proved that I hadn’t gone back to the US because the Customs agents in America would never forget to stamp a passport. Then he accused Simon and me of having a serious romantic relationship, even though we both said otherwise, and wondered why I wanted to stay in the UK for so long.

I wasn’t answering the questions to his liking, so he made me sit down in some chairs near his desk and he alerted his superior. She then asked me similar questions and decided that I was suspicious and needed to be detained. So they took me and my bag through the airport to a checkpoint where both I and my bags were to be searched. I was then led to an office where my picture and fingerprints were taken and I was sent to a waiting room to await an interview with a senior Immigration Officer.

Simon and I had been separated and I was not allowed to see him. One of the Customs agents informed him of my situation and he was told it would be at least 3 hours before I would be released. I don’t know how long I was sitting in that waiting room, scared and alone, until a short, weasel-like man interviewed me. He asked me about Simon, WWOOFing and why I was using England as a base for my travels. I could tell that he didn’t like my answers and I honestly think that he decided that I was to be deported before the interview even started.

The waiting room was an office somewhere in the depths of the airport where the staff, not part of the Immigration department at all, were extremely nice and accommodating to me. They listened to my story and tried to be supportive and make me comfortable.

Eventually I was informed that I was to be deported… back to Croatia! Why Croatia? Because they simply send you back to where you have just come from. Once the officer informed me that I would be sent back to Croatia I went a little hysterical. I called Simon to let him know the situation, and then asked to speak to the head of the Immigration department. This fat, ugly, and obnoxious little man came into the office and then took me and one of his colleagues into an interview room to listen to my story.

I was distraught and in tears and I could tell by the stony look on his face that he would not be swayed by a crying woman. I sensed this immediately so simply spoke my mind, rather than begging him to change his. He was being so disagreeable and heartless that I asked him to have a little compassion and treat me like a human being. He coldly explained to me that because I had “worked” (remember, I was NOT PAID A PENNY) in the UK, I had breached the restrictions of my tourist visa, and therefore I must be detained and deported. He was not willing to exercise any discretion or take into consideration the fact that I had booked expensive onward flights that would see me leave the UK in just 2 weeks.

Because I had worked on farms, even though on a strictly unpaid basis, they considered this paid work because they said it allowed me to extend my stay in the country, even though this wasn’t the case as I had always planned to leave in December regardless.

In my opinion, he should have simply allowed me to return to Liverpool to collect my things, let me leave to Nepal, then asked me to change my ticket so that I would return once I was back from Nepal, rather than staying another week as I had planned.

It was pointless talking to the immigration officer; he wasn’t prepared to believe that I wasn’t some immigration criminal who was looking to live in the UK illegally. So, after 7 ½ hours since my flight from Croatia landed in the UK, I was taken, in a caged van, with 4 other women to an “Immigration Removal and Detention Center” in Yarl’s Wood, about an hour north of where I was.

Once we arrived at Yarl’s Wood, we went through 2 large steel gates, barbed wire topped walls and a security checkpoint. We were led into a waiting room, which was then locked, and forced to wait another hour until we were led to another waiting room. We must have waited another hour or so before we were each interviewed and had our bags searched… again!!

By now it was 2 a.m. and we were all just exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep. They kept locking us in the waiting room, but honestly I can’t imagine that 4 women, one with a 3-yr-old daughter, were going to do anything which required them to secure us in a room. I was as uncooperative as possible and didn’t smile in my picture, gave vague answers and wouldn’t smile or joke when they attempted to lighten the mood.

It was 4:30 a.m. by the time I was led to my room. Breakfast was served at 8, but I couldn’t imagine being up by then. I was however wide awake by 7:30 because I had a roommate that left at 7 and I was feeling a little lonely and anxious.

It was only a few days ago, but I have honestly blocked out what happened that first day in detention. Simon came and visited me and brought me my stuff: the clothes and possessions that he had driven all the way to Liverpool to pack and bring back to me. He had driven 4-5 hours both ways just to bring me my stuff so that when I left for Croatia on Monday, I had everything with me. Damn Immigration agents.

I only spent a total of 42 hours in the detention center, but it was longer than I ever hope to be held against my will again. I felt lonely, lost and upset almost the entire time I was there.  I cried every time I was alone and never felt comfortable. How could I? I was basically in prison.

I left for Zadar, Croatia on Monday evening and Simon was kind enough to come with me. He has been a great help not only with planning things so that we had a place to stay and transportation while in Croatia, but he’s been a rock and been more supportive than I could ever have hoped for.

I haven’t decided what I’m doing once Simon leaves on Saturday, but an option is to go to Zagreb and the UK Embassy there and appeal this decision. I simply want to be heard and explain to them the injustice that has occurred.

If anyone reading this would like to help in any way, please write a letter to the UK Embassy or the appropriate representative to let them know that this was an unfair way to treat someone from a country that is supposedly a friend. I just ask that they treat each person fairly and with compassion. Perhaps I made a mistake, but couldn’t they have just slapped my wrist, seen that I was leaving for Nepal in 2 weeks, staying there for 6 weeks, then leaving England for the US in mid-December?

I’m still upset that this happened. Not just to me, but to numerous other people who enter the UK for a holiday and are turned away because the Immigration officers see a law-breaker rather than a human being. How many more times does this have to happen before someone realizes that it’s no way to treat people?

Bangor and Busy Bees

I arrived in Bangor on a cold, windy Sunday evening and was picked up from the coach station by John, the owner of the smallholding where I’d be living the next 2 weeks. It was a short drive from the center of town to his home where I was welcomed by his partner, Lisa, with a hot cup of tea. It was about 5:30 and dinner was going to be in about an hour so in the meantime, John took me on a tour of his land.

He and Lisa own about an acre of land in rural Bangor, with a motorway just down the hill so not exactly out in the “country”. They have all sorts of small crops like tomatoes, corn, beans, cabbage, lettuce, carrots, grapes, apples, etc. They also own chickens for eggs and ducks as pets. The ducks also help out eating slugs and other detestable creatures detrimental to the health of an organic farm. I was to stay in a camper in their back yard just a short walk from the back door.

There was another WWOOFer there, Suzanne, which excited me because it would be someone to talk to and bond with and complain to. 😉 I met her at dinner and she seemed like an instant friend.

My life on this particular farm was so much more organized and educational than the other farms I’ve been to. My day would start at 9 with a project such as weeding, helping make jam, extracting honey, planting seeds, etc. One day I was trimming and affixing raspberry plants to wires, while another day I’d be collecting horse manure to put on the compost pile. I learned how to spot caterpillars on cabbage plants and how to clean duck and chicken coops.

My favorite job of all though was my third day there where we collected the honeycomb from the bees and extracted the honey. John had cleared the hives of all of the bees, then brought them up to the house where we removed the honeycomb frames and sorted them according to sealed or unsealed honey. Sealing refers to the wax cap the bees place on the individual cells in order to either eat their honey now, unsealed, or later, sealed. When the honey was unsealed, we simply put the frames into a large metal drum with a wire cage to hold the frames and a handle and we spun it out. We turned the handle so that the honey would be flung onto the walls of the drum, then collect in the bottom. After we had enough, we would open a valve at the bottom of the drum and drain the honey into another metal cylinder with a sieve to strain out all of the unwanted debris that had made its way from the honeycomb, such as dead bees and other insects.

When all of the unsealed wax was collected, we would repeat the process with the sealed honey but before we placed the frames in the drum we had to remove the wax seal with a hot spatula. This sealed honey would be strained twice in order to remove the excess debris of the wax. This process lasted all day and when we finished at 9 p.m. (after having several breaks during the day for meals and rests) Lisa and John still had to put all of the honey into jars. When I reported the next morning at 9, the honey had been jarred and the kitchen had been cleaned and returned to its usual state.

I don’t know that I would go to this extent to grow my own food, John had a job as a bee inspector while Lisa ran the day-to-day of the farm. I would do something along the lines of a large garden that I could tend to in the evenings and on weekends. I now understand the difference between bees and wasps, how to initiate the growing process, what a poly tunnel is used for and how much work it takes to keep even just a smallholding running properly. I enjoyed my time at Pen y Bonc (Top of the Bank in Welsh) with John and Lisa and their children Carina and Yannic and the ducks and bees!