La Ferme d'Esmeralda

I'm now 47 days into my French adventure and I have to admit I've been enjoying my time so much that I just keep forgetting to write new blog posts. Then I remember when I'm out in the fields with the goats and forget as soon as I get back to the house.

Therefore, I have at least three posts up my sleeve which I plan to post by the end of this week.

Firstly, I forgot to explain in my first post what the acronym WWOOF stands for. WWOOF is interpreted in several ways, but always maintains the same idea. Here are some interpretations...

World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms
Willing Workers On Organic Farms
We’re Welcome On Organic Farms

Throughout my blog posts you'll see me use WWOOFer (the volunteer), WWOOFing/WWOOFs (as a verb), etc. I paid for a years' membership with "WWOOF France", and what I get as a member is a full list and description of all participating farms/farmers in France who are willing to receive WWOOFers. Then, I can write to those people whose farms interest me, to see whether they are free to host me.

So there's a little background info as to how I ended up in the Norman countryside milking goats every morning.

You saw in my first post how beautiful some of my surroundings are, here is a bit more of a sneak peek into the charm of my little get-away at La Ferme d'Esmeralda.

At the top of the hill, in the background, you can see the house which dates as far back as the 17th century. The section on the left was added as an extension in the early 19th century. It has such character it makes you wonder what the walls would say if they could talk... BUT, being so old, it's often colder in the house than outside. That's not such a bad thing though because it means we get to light a log fire in the large fireplace in the kitchen or in the gorgeously decorated ceramic coonara fireplace in the living room. Nice and cosy. Plus there are so many kittens roaming around, that there's always someone fluffy in search of a cuddle.

I'm not sure exactly how big the property is here in terms of hectares, but it's big enough for me to explore new areas for the goats to graze each week. Usually I describe my adventures with the goats as having taken place in 'this field', 'the field near the woods', 'the next field', 'the top field with the shed', 'the field with the tree in the middle', 'the field on this side of the river/the other side of the river', 'the field near the horses' or 'the field on the hill'.

My daily routine varies depending on how many people are availble to help out and, of course, what needs to be done. This is my normal morning greeting... the goats lined up to be milked.

Some of the girls get a little impatient, if the milking takes too long!

They get fed their grain while we're milking and come through to the trough five at a time. If we're fast, it takes us about an hour and a half to milk them all, but most of the time it takes a bit over two hours.

Afterwards, the goats go out to graze. For me, that means French lesson time, or, in the time leading up to Sarah and Frank's wedding, speech practice!

For those of you in Australia that didn't know, two weeks ago I officiated my friends' wedding! It was so much fun and such an honour. And luckily, all of my practicing with the goats paid off!

Since the wedding, I've gone back to French lessons and have borrowed one of Hélène's old storybooks (French stories for three year olds) which I read, with the help of a dictionary. The first story, Le petit monstre, took me two hours to get through!

As I said, I'm forever distracted when I return from the fields because it is an absolute mad-house here! There are constantly people coming and going, whether it be neighbours, friends, family, deliveries or other guests. Lunch and dinner are times for everyone to meet and sit together, extra chairs are pulled up and meals are made for many. Needless to say, there's a never-ending pile of dishes haunting us.

Evenings are spent enjoying a cup of tea or glass of wine (or both), having a good chat or watching an episode of something online. However 10pm tends to feel like midnight after a day out in the fresh air, so the nights fly by quickly.

Now you have the first of this week's posts, some of the stories still to come include: the cow invasion, renovation rescue, wild billy-goat learns a lesson, my first goat's cheese, sight-seeing at Mont Saint Michel and the adventures of learning a new language.

Feel free to comment or send me an email, I'd love to hear from you.

Ici, c'est le paradis!

Eight days into my newest adventure, I can safely say: all is well in Normandy. 

As some of you may have guessed from the title (Ici, c'est le paradis = Here, this is paradise), I am truly loving my time here. The title is inspired by Chapter 2 of my 5th grader French books, which I read daily - with the goats.

So, eight days is a lot to report on. Let me start at the beginning...

Me, pre-trip. Ready to take on the life of a farmer.

Photo by V. Zwafink in Benningen a.N.

After a very emotional last few days, including a car accident in a borrowed uninsured car, moving out of my flat alone and in the rain, and generally having to farewell beautiful people and, of course, Germany, I set off by train to Paris.

Paris was a welcome distraction but even moreso than I had imagined! Ok, so this is what I was travelling with... a suitcase, a backpack, a smaller back(front)pack and my pillow (which I had also stuffed with more clothes!). I know, packing my pillow sounds a bit posh, but I love it.

I couldn't have had a warmer welcome in Paris. Several strangers came to help me with my luggage. Note: the Parisian Metro has A LOT of stairs.

Once off the Metro, glad that I had found the correct stop, I walked down the busy main street to find the hostel. Unbeknownst to me, I was walking in the wrong direction! I managed to ask someone working at an internet café using the little French I arrived with - he told me I was one hundred houses down!!

Soon after, I arrived at the hostel and hadn't even checked in by the time I'd met Hayden. I quickly joined him, two Bens, Kieran and Sam and we made a great Aussie-Kiwi mix. I didn't have the energy to leave the hostel at first but ended up staying up with them until early hours, happy not to be thinking about how nervous I was about where I had just left and where I was going.

Day Two: arriving at La Ferme d'Esmeralda

I made my way across Paris on Sunday morning, thankfully leaving myself much more time than suggested, because I only got to the station five minutes before my train was to leave to Lisieux.

In Lisieux, I was met at the station by Lucile, my WWOOFing host. I can now say, after a week with Lucile that she is an amazingly dynamic woman, but in that car ride to the farm, there was too much of my nervousness and 'get-to-know' business for me to recognise her true character.

We arrived at the farm and got straight to work. I soon found myself tangled in electric fencing wire, literally. When I thought that I could not have possibly left a more ridiculous first impression, Lucile and Nicolas left me with the goats while they went to visit a neighbour. Everything quickly turned to chaos when a car pulled up. All the goats ran away and I had half of them in one field (where they were supposed to be), a good part in another field and quite a few scaring the visitors into jumping back into their car.

My saying for this year has been: "Everything is OK in the end; if it's not OK, it's not the end". Yet again it proved to be right. The goats were fine, I was fine. Lucile and Nicolas just laughed!

Week One:

After a slightly bumpy start, I quickly found my place here, in the family home, in the fields and in the barn.

Now that I am more comfortable with the goats, I love being with them. They're desperate for affection, constantly seeking cuddles or a leaning/scratching post.

Goat cuddles and kisses.

One great thing about this week, aside it being full of new experiences, is the new people I have spent it with. My host family includes, Lucile and Nicolas, as well as their two gorgeous children Étienne (10) and Hélène (6). There's also another WWOOFer here at the moment, Victoria, from Brazil.

I spend most of my time with Lucile and Victoria, working on the farm while Nicolas (primary teacher), Étienne and Hélène are at school. While our work on the farm is tough and doesn't hold back on the battle wounds, we spend most of the day laughing our heads off!

Victoria (left) and Lucile (right), just another morning milking the goats.

Me, trying to be serious.

We take turns of taking the goats out to graze and that's where things get interesting. They either listen and follow you to where you want to take them, or... they don't. By the end of the week I learned the areas they prefer to graze in the mornings and where they don't, likewise for the afternoons.

While I'm out in the fields, I practice French. With the goats, of course! My pronunciation is terrific according to my field-friends, but I get my real practice when Étienne and Hélène get home from school. They speak to me in French, ask me questions and tell me stories, we play games together (for some reason I always seem to lose) and laugh together. However, I'm never sure whether we're laughing at the same things!

I mentioned battle wounds. Day two on the farm had Victoria and I picking blackberries to make jam. They were delicious, but our hands and arms looked like they'd fought with a ferral cat afterwards. While that healed I managed to be bitten by what I think may have been a spider. My elbow swelled up, turned red and felt like it was on fire for a few days - that's all. Victoria stood on a rusty nail, which went straight through her gumboots. It wasn't a laughing matter when she realised she hadn't had a recent tetanus shot - a late night trip to the hospital was then made. There are the goats, constantly head-butting our legs. Then yesterday I fell through the top floor of the barn. I'm beginning to think that my love of the colour purple is showing through on my skin! Never mind, I'm tough enough. I'll just be wearing black tights to the wedding this weekend instead of the beige ones I had planned to wear!

There will be more details to come in my next posts. Including the cheese lab, where the heavenly Hüftengold is made - I have no chance of leaving this place lighter than I arrived. Lucile's cheeses are just too good.

For now I'll leave you with a picture of my French classroom and my trusty pal, Edwin the dog.