In this week’s guest blog, city slicker Emma Pearson heads for deepest Gloucestershire to get a taste of farming life.
“I grew up in a village on the Somerset-Wiltshire border so I’m no stranger to country living, but after spending nearly a decade in Birmingham and London, it’s fair to say I’m more of a city slicker than I used to be. Luckily for me though, four years ago I met a farmer’s son and if that isn’t a one-way ticket back into rural life then I’m not sure what is.
We’ve had lots of opportunities to help out on the Gloucestershire farm, which is home to a herd of limousin cattle, two horses, two dogs, two cats and a band of wandering pheasants over the past few years. This time around, we’re there for a week and it’s a case of rural tourism meets staycation as we don our wellies and get stuck in.
The farm lies over two sides of just the sort of rolling hill the Cotswolds are famous for, so we’ve inevitably been getting a good leg stretch into the bargain when doing any of the daily jobs that keep the farm wheels turning. And at this time of the year that includes checking on wintering polo ponies enjoying a bit of time off between seasons.
Checking on lazily grazing ponies sounds simple, but if my experience this week is anything to go by they seem to have an uncanny knack for disappearing when you want to count them. If they’ve not been hiding behind each other they’ve been tucked over the brow of the hill or submerged in fog, so it’s definitely been a case of covering more ground than less.
The pheasants on the other hand are everywhere, either tottering across the fields like portly ballerinas or flying between the hedgerows. It’s been fascinating watching them on our farm walks, particularly when they’re flying low and you get to hear the distinctive thump of wing beats between their trademark glides.
It’s pheasant shooting season at the moment and after striking up conversation with a nearby shoot’s game keeper in the village local (country pubs really are that friendly), we found ourselves signed up for a couple of days beating, which involves working as a team to flush birds out of their cover for waiting guns.
As well as getting some serious exercise – a day’s beating is about six hours – we saw masses of wildlife including Muntjac deer and even the odd turkey. We also had the chance to go on land normally out of bounds to your average walker as we strode across fields of cover crops, fought through dense copses, hopped over dry stone walls and scurried under fences.
A couple of days beating and many farm walks later, I’m feeling fit and healthy in a way that you only get from being active outside. Unfortunately this hasn’t made any difference to my waistline (the farm larder has a habit of throwing out tasty treats), but if I break even after a week in the fresh air then I’m happy.”
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Hi and welcome. I'm a freelance travel and lifestyle copywriter and editor, with a passion for the great outdoors. This is my personal blog all about getting out in the fresh air and reconnecting with our green spaces and countryside.
