Clarkson, Caravans and Cows: This entry is brought to you by the letter "C"

I thought about doing an ABC of Westlands and so forth, but then I realised that so much at the farm begins with the letter C, so without further ado...

Calves and cows

Westlands Farm isn’t just about strawberries and raspberries, you know. Our livestock includes several dozen lambs and around 40 cows with the latter figure including a bull and a couple of calves.

We have nicknamed the calves A*sehole and F*ckwit because of their propensity for adventure and constant ability to escape from their pen. Last November the cows were moved into the barn for the winter as they looked particularly sad huddling in the corner of a field under some meagre tree cover.

The beasts don’t seem to mind being in the barn as they get plenty of cover, food and hay, which has got to be a better alternative than standing in an increasingly wet and muddy pasture.

But while the elders are happy to stay put, A*sehole and F*ckwit like to wander and there’s been a couple of occasions where I’ve been forced to channel my inner sheepdog to prevent the pair from running down the track towards the Botley road. In retrospect, perhaps I should be a bit embarrassed that I was heeding Ryan’s orders (“run to your left, Paul”) like he was my master but I did have flowing locks at the time, so I fitted the job description.

There was another occasion when I was in the packhouse when a slightly-panicked Constantine came through the door saying “Paul, I need help with the beef. Beef outside”. He speaks good English does Constantine, but he didn’t know the word for cow on this occasion, and I turned the corner to find F*ckwit wandering around the caravan car park.

Steve was called and we did a bit of coaxing before the young beef made a break for it and leapt over the fence and back into the field to join the herd. A break in the fence was blamed for his latest escapade, but sometimes they get a hand from their human overlords.

Some of our cows. Note: They're all lying down, but it was a glorious day and no rain came.

The calves have become less adventurous as time has passed but even the elders get a case of wanderlust every now and then. A couple of months ago Steve was settling down for the night when he heard mooing outside. That worried him as the grazing field was secure and a few hundred yards away from his abode, so something would have gone horribly wrong for the herd to be nibbling the vegetation around his patio.

Turned out that someone, possibly the previous (cough*Bulgarian*cough*) caravan tenants had left the gate open and thus allowed the cows to escape. It’s not the first time they’ve been caught wandering as they’ve made it to the farm shop car park at times, but on this occasion a sleepy Steve was on his own and facing the very real possibility that his cows could travel well beyond the farm confines. He had visions of them walking the half mile into Wickham and congregating in the community centre car park, but with this help of his wife the pair somehow got them back into the field close to midnight.

I used to be scared of cows and would often change my route if I encountered them on a walk across a field. But spending 16 months in their company has changed my attitude and I’ll happily walk up to them or gesture them to move if they’re blocking my path. They often make way although I suspect it’s because they might recognise me now.

There’s something very serene about cows although my newfound appreciation for all things bovine is not going to change my attitudes to eating. As I’ve bought numerous steaks from our farm shop, it’s more than likely that one of them has partly ended up on my dinner plate. Sorry, vegetarians.

Cleaning caravans

I actually enjoy cleaning. Yes that sounds odd, but I find cleaning strangely therapeutic and I think it’s good for the soul. Washing up is probably my favourite chore but I don’t mind ironing and there’s a certain satisfaction in admiring a wardrobe full of crease-free shirts, particularly if they’re also categorised. Yep, I do this too.

So when the boss asked Mike and I to clean four of the farm’s five static caravans in February for this year’s migrant workers, I was unusually happy. We were given all the tools from bleach and window cleaner to a Henry hoover and shake-and-vac and left to it. Happy days.

The fifth caravan was the trickiest as it was transported from the Glamorgan “resort” of Porthcawl to Ford about a month before the first pickers arrived. It differed to the rest as most of the floor was faux-wood while it also included a rather nice leather sofa.

It was also clear the previous owner was a dog person as I found numerous treats and squeaky toys during my cleaning adventures. But the feint whiff of dog and finding the occasional chew was a treat compared to the horrors of the final caravan.

The opportunity to clean caravan 5 arrived in August after a handful of Bulgarians left the farm. It’s fair to say they weren’t houseproud as it took me around a week to clean it with the kitchen taking alone taking three days.

The picture of the kitchen drawer on this entry (see below) has become infamous on the farm and should give you a good idea of what I dealt with. I also came across a couple of mouldy potatoes in the furthest reaches of the bottom cupboard while even more unpleasant discoveries, which I won’t go into detail with, were uncovered before I started.

The drawer of horrors and a mug I found in the deepest corner of the caravan kitchen. I'm assured it wasn't planted there. Spooky.

Cleaning the cupboards was unpleasant as it often meant using mould and mildew spray, which you’re not meant to utilise in a confined space. It’s horrible stuff and I occasionally found myself coughing and running for the door for fresh air, with the smell and taste lodging on the back of my throat.

There wasn’t a single surface or knob I didn’t clean during my week in caravan five. Ceilings, windows, shower screens, mattresses, wardrobe interiors: I cleaned them all. At the end of the day I wanted to leave a caravan I would be happy to live in, let alone someone else, especially as the next owners would be travelling from the furthest reaches of Europe.

So when I finish cleaning and lock the door for the last time before handing the keys to Kayleigh for inspection, it often feels like I’m leaving a rented flat and I’m hopeful of getting my deposit back. I often get nervous and wonder if the migrants will be happy with their temporary home. Have I missed something? Could I have cleaned the stove a bit more thoroughly? Are the windows streak-free? Perhaps I worry too much, but given the journey the pickers have made and their dramatic change in culture and surroundings, I just want to make sure they’re comfortable after worktime.

Clarkson’s Farm

Before I begin writing about Mr Motormouth and his transition from petrolhead to pasture, I’ll admit that I haven’t got Amazon Prime and thus haven’t seen an episode of Clarkson’s Farm. My knowledge of the show is therefore limited to YouTube clips and work chatter, as the likes of Ryan and Mike are fans and thoroughly enjoyed series one.

I’ve decided to include a section about Clarkson’s Farm in this blog because it’s been essential and obvious viewing for the Westlands team. We’re all fans of the show and the news that Amazon has commissioned a second series has been welcomed.

For people who are not familiar with the show and have been living on Mars with their eyes closed and ears taped shut Clarkson’s Farm is all about Jezza’s leap into the world of farming. Having acquired a farm in the Cotswolds the former Top Gear presenter soon realises that farming is bloody hard work with the likes of farm hand Kaleb (the real star of the show, pictured above on the left) and his staff schooling him in everything from planting and harvesting to sheep shearing and irrigation.

Being a gadget-keen petrolhead Jeremy thinks technology can make life easier. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. He splashes out on a Lamborghini tractor which is much too big and unsuitable for his modest Gloucestershire farm, while his trial of a drone which makes dog noises instead of a real-life border collie or sheepdog-herding breed is, let’s be fair, disastrous and hilarious.

While some of the characters do appear to be stereotypically rural the Westlands view is that the material feels genuine and unstaged. Kaleb’s grief and language towards his celebrity overlord is a case in point as he’s completely non-plussed about Clarkson’s status and thinks nothing about highlighting his mistakes, often in a slightly sweary way.

Of course, having a multi-million pound bank balance will probably take the edge off those mistakes but my limited view, along with the general consensus of my colleagues, is that Clarkson is very respectful of the industry and has done a great deal to highlight how tough and important the work is, not just for their livelihoods but for the country. There’s even been stories of more youngsters expressing an interesting in a farming career because of the programme and that’s got to be a good thing. I know Clarkson isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but at least watch the clips on YouTube. You’ll be glad you did.

And finally, C is also for Construction

It’s important to have loose nuts when building polytunnels. I learned this in early September when installing the braces on the beginnings of the newest polytunnel block at Ford.

We got permission in late 2020 to erect another block, the farm’s fifth, at Ford but work has only recently begun. It all begins with two stakes, which are placed on the opposite side of the track to the corners of the opposite tunnels. Twine is tied between the two stakes to create a straight line before markers are set for the leg posts. The process is then repeated lengthways, down the field, and followed by the drilling of several hundred leg posts into the soil.

Work begins on our newest block of polytunnels

The hoops which form the main polytunnel frame are then lowered by hand into the leg posts, which are around 9.5metres apart, before brace posts are installed in several places at the end to provide strength.

It’s early days yet and we’ve installed less than a hundred hoops at the time of writing, so I’ll go into construction a bit later on this blog. But the biggest lesson I’ve learned so far is not to tighten the nuts on the brace posts too soon, otherwise they will be very difficult to adjust. So keep them loose.