6/5:
The ferry men poked fun at us about our bikes for the majority of the 45 minute boat ride. But as soon as the rocky shores of Cape Clear appeared we realized why. The cliffs of the island towered above the ferry as we pulled into the harbor. One small beach was nestled into the hill while behind it, the spread of Irish green shrubbery sloped steeply upwards.
After a noble quarter of an hour pushing our bikes up a neverending steep grade, we ditched them by the side of the road and continued on foot. Without the bikes our pace quickened and we finally made it to the top of the ridge where a small road took us alongside a sprinkling of tiny cottages. Using our finicky map we guided ourselves to the house of one of Giana's friends, Ed Harper, a supposed goat farmer. Sure enough tangled in the nettle weeds and barely visible by the side of the road, a tiny painted goat face peeped out at us signaling towards a tiny cottage on the left hand side of the road. Cautiously, we opened the creaky gate and went down to explore only to run into a tiny old man whom we found to be Ed. He immediately invited us into the milking parlor with the promise of tea after the goats had been milked. It was only on our way down the windy path when he asked us the number of cats we saw that we noticed he was completely blind. A large barking german shephard named Zach fit into the picture perfectly when we noticed his guide dog vest. But Zach stayed inside as we went to see the goats and Ed carried on perfectly. Both Marion and I looked at each other questioningly when we saw the eight goats lined up and ready to be milked, wondering how he would ever manage. But Ed never hesitated, feeling each goat he named them off to us and then went on about his business, carefully cleaning udders and milking each goat one by one. With utmost patience, the goats treated him like an equal and Marion and I looked on in complete awe. Jaws dropped, we watched as he systematically milked every goat before filtering all the milk to later make into his special freezable cheese and icecream. All the while he talked on and on and we discussed all matter of goat-y things. He explained his recent problems with infertility in the herd and how he blamed GMO soy feed. To add to the series of curious events, the cashier woman from the Schull Eurospar store walked in halfway through and Ed later explained it was his ex-wife. Marion and I once again looked at each other in shock only to look down and notice we had already spent two whole hours chatting! Excusing ourselves, we didn't end up leaving without a 12euro copy of Ed's latest album and two free goat icecreams.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Bantry
6/4:
You have to blink a few times to remind yourself you're still in the same century if you arrive in Bantry on the first Friday of the month. The main plaza is full of people. Nearby, a horse is tied to a lamppost while at its feet a noisy cage crammed with chickens has a pricetag on it. Another man rides his horse through the square, announcing the price while a woman bargains over the cost of her two puppies with a customer. Knick knacks are everywhere and you can buy everything from Gubbeen cheese and sausage to wellies to fox traps to tomato seedlings to chicken feed to old watches and sandwich presses.
You have to blink a few times to remind yourself you're still in the same century if you arrive in Bantry on the first Friday of the month. The main plaza is full of people. Nearby, a horse is tied to a lamppost while at its feet a noisy cage crammed with chickens has a pricetag on it. Another man rides his horse through the square, announcing the price while a woman bargains over the cost of her two puppies with a customer. Knick knacks are everywhere and you can buy everything from Gubbeen cheese and sausage to wellies to fox traps to tomato seedlings to chicken feed to old watches and sandwich presses.
Chicks
6/4:
Chicken jobs seem to follow me where I go. First at Pie Ranch I was an egg collector, then at Full Belly a chicken catcher and now again here I'm a chick hatcher. Every morning I go into the "chick shed" to check our incubators for signs of life.
Half the room is already taken up by a flurry of feathers and a chorus of peeping from all the tiny chicks that have already emerged from their shels. But on the other side are all the eggs that are just waiting to hatch tiny balls of wings and beak.
I check them with excitement, watching, waiting for a crack or a hole, anything. I spritz them with water regularly to help the little ones along until finally, a crack! I pick up the soft, cream colored egg and tap it gently with my finger. A soft peeping tickles my ear and I feel a wiggle. Carefully, I put it down and wait a few more hours. When I come back, I find a wet, disgruntled little mass that's supposed to be a chick. To me it looks more likea hairball that a cat spit out. I gently pick it up and place the fragile body into the second incubator so its feathers can fluff up a bit.
After another half day, the chick is ready to join his flock mates. I place him carefully inside the cage and he stares around at the bigger chicks as if it were his first day of school.
Chicken jobs seem to follow me where I go. First at Pie Ranch I was an egg collector, then at Full Belly a chicken catcher and now again here I'm a chick hatcher. Every morning I go into the "chick shed" to check our incubators for signs of life.
Half the room is already taken up by a flurry of feathers and a chorus of peeping from all the tiny chicks that have already emerged from their shels. But on the other side are all the eggs that are just waiting to hatch tiny balls of wings and beak.
I check them with excitement, watching, waiting for a crack or a hole, anything. I spritz them with water regularly to help the little ones along until finally, a crack! I pick up the soft, cream colored egg and tap it gently with my finger. A soft peeping tickles my ear and I feel a wiggle. Carefully, I put it down and wait a few more hours. When I come back, I find a wet, disgruntled little mass that's supposed to be a chick. To me it looks more likea hairball that a cat spit out. I gently pick it up and place the fragile body into the second incubator so its feathers can fluff up a bit.
After another half day, the chick is ready to join his flock mates. I place him carefully inside the cage and he stares around at the bigger chicks as if it were his first day of school.
Silage Part II
6/3:
My pants are so wet they stick to my legs and my fleece is slimy with mud and grease. Rain is back on schedule so silage work continues although now harder and faster. Rosie, Emmett and I are standing on the silage pit. After having already put down the tarps, it is now time to weigh everything down with tires so we wait above while Tom and Brennan load up the backhoe with slimy odl tires. We fing them out over the vast expanse of tarpo and moldy water oozes out, running down into the shed. To keep motivated we make competitions for ourselves, who is the dirtiest or who can fling the furthest.
My pants are so wet they stick to my legs and my fleece is slimy with mud and grease. Rain is back on schedule so silage work continues although now harder and faster. Rosie, Emmett and I are standing on the silage pit. After having already put down the tarps, it is now time to weigh everything down with tires so we wait above while Tom and Brennan load up the backhoe with slimy odl tires. We fing them out over the vast expanse of tarpo and moldy water oozes out, running down into the shed. To keep motivated we make competitions for ourselves, who is the dirtiest or who can fling the furthest.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Abracadabra
Gubbeen is full of secrets. Little nooks to hide in, beautiful tidbits, bizarre animals, exciting adventures. Yesterday while brining cheese, I discovered the most beautiful etching in a pane of glass. A man slowly evolving into a frog. It struck me as very fitting, for in a place as magical as this, a transformation so bizarre as that seems perfectly natural.
Silage
6/2:
Around here people still talk about "the olden days" on a regular basis. It's silage time now so of course it comes up even more often these days. Rosie explains that in other times, silage was a big happening about the community where all the neighbors came together to help each other out, each contributing what they could. Nowadays it's all done through contractors who come to work the whole day (8am-11pm). They're serious about their job and almost never utter a word except a few mumbles when they come in to devour their lunch.
Around here people still talk about "the olden days" on a regular basis. It's silage time now so of course it comes up even more often these days. Rosie explains that in other times, silage was a big happening about the community where all the neighbors came together to help each other out, each contributing what they could. Nowadays it's all done through contractors who come to work the whole day (8am-11pm). They're serious about their job and almost never utter a word except a few mumbles when they come in to devour their lunch.
Meeting Marion
6/2:
When the clouds of rain lift, Ireland is a totally different place. I'm in the top field and I look over my shoulder. For the first time, I see the sea! I can also now make out the many farms and cottages that mark the hillside. The flowers are vibrant as they soak up these few rays of sun. Marion (the french intern) and I have the afternoon off so we decide to take the bikes to Schull. The way is not far but walking up the hill we huff and puff until a sweat breaks on our brows. Just as we are getting ready for a break we reach the top house so we mount our bikes and ride full speed down into town. Marion knows the area better than I so she shows me around the piers and beaches. We stop at the pier to look down into the deep water and then walk to the beach where we can put our legs in. After, we bike to eurospar for a cool drink and some essentials.
When we come home, I help Marion with her cheese duties. We flip cheese and pull others out of the brine. Tiny cuts on my fingers burn from the salt. When we are done, we go upstairs to her apartment and we watch the French Open. She teaches me the rules and promises we'll go to a pub on Saturday to watch the semifinals.
When the clouds of rain lift, Ireland is a totally different place. I'm in the top field and I look over my shoulder. For the first time, I see the sea! I can also now make out the many farms and cottages that mark the hillside. The flowers are vibrant as they soak up these few rays of sun. Marion (the french intern) and I have the afternoon off so we decide to take the bikes to Schull. The way is not far but walking up the hill we huff and puff until a sweat breaks on our brows. Just as we are getting ready for a break we reach the top house so we mount our bikes and ride full speed down into town. Marion knows the area better than I so she shows me around the piers and beaches. We stop at the pier to look down into the deep water and then walk to the beach where we can put our legs in. After, we bike to eurospar for a cool drink and some essentials.
When we come home, I help Marion with her cheese duties. We flip cheese and pull others out of the brine. Tiny cuts on my fingers burn from the salt. When we are done, we go upstairs to her apartment and we watch the French Open. She teaches me the rules and promises we'll go to a pub on Saturday to watch the semifinals.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Rabbit rabbit!
6/1:
My arms and legs ache. Not so much from hard work, but from nettle burns. I spent a good chunk of the sunny (!) afternoon carting wheel barrows full of stinging nettles down to Clovis' compost pile. Rosie taught me to use bruised dock leaves (which always grow together with nettles) to calm the welts but even with this trick I still feel slight throbbing in the affected areas.
The day was a lot less dairy-centric than yesterday because Tom pulled me aside to help with all the animals that had to be moved.
First Rosie, Brennan and I loaded up onto the moto to go pick up a newborn calf in the field and bring back its mom for milking. After heaving the slumbering calf into the back, we had to convince the new mom to follow. We managed to get her started with some cajoleing so we set off down the road to walk the mile of road back to the farm. Despite a lot of cow chasing and near escapes we made it back remarkably quick and left mother and child alone together in a pen.
Next on the list was to move three sows and their litters. First we moved the fierce wild sow with her tiny piglets in with the rest of the wild pigs. The second two moms were easier because they had been put into farrowing crates from the very beginning. After moving the moms first, we chased the piglets around the tiny room and caught them one by one, holding them by one leg as they shrieked bloody murder. After this crazy early afternoon of animals, I went back to weed more nettles before checking on the newest batch of chicks. I had found a few cracked eggs in the incubator in the morning so I sprayed them and waited for a few hours for the real hatching to begin. Sure enough when I went back, three new chicks had emerged and were peeping about the warm interior. One of life's greatest miracles fo sho.
My arms and legs ache. Not so much from hard work, but from nettle burns. I spent a good chunk of the sunny (!) afternoon carting wheel barrows full of stinging nettles down to Clovis' compost pile. Rosie taught me to use bruised dock leaves (which always grow together with nettles) to calm the welts but even with this trick I still feel slight throbbing in the affected areas.
The day was a lot less dairy-centric than yesterday because Tom pulled me aside to help with all the animals that had to be moved.
First Rosie, Brennan and I loaded up onto the moto to go pick up a newborn calf in the field and bring back its mom for milking. After heaving the slumbering calf into the back, we had to convince the new mom to follow. We managed to get her started with some cajoleing so we set off down the road to walk the mile of road back to the farm. Despite a lot of cow chasing and near escapes we made it back remarkably quick and left mother and child alone together in a pen.
Next on the list was to move three sows and their litters. First we moved the fierce wild sow with her tiny piglets in with the rest of the wild pigs. The second two moms were easier because they had been put into farrowing crates from the very beginning. After moving the moms first, we chased the piglets around the tiny room and caught them one by one, holding them by one leg as they shrieked bloody murder. After this crazy early afternoon of animals, I went back to weed more nettles before checking on the newest batch of chicks. I had found a few cracked eggs in the incubator in the morning so I sprayed them and waited for a few hours for the real hatching to begin. Sure enough when I went back, three new chicks had emerged and were peeping about the warm interior. One of life's greatest miracles fo sho.
Monday, May 31, 2010
A day of whey
5/31:
My first day was absolutely fantastic. Despite my excitement for work, my jetlag really took over and I didn't wake until around 11am so I started work late (Rosie had said to sleep in as much as I wanted). I went to the dairy straight away and was directed by Eileen to go upstairs to the cheese-making room. I donned a white apron, white wellies, a hairnet and a pair of green rubber gloves before entering through the glass doors. Inside, Eileen shouted out the names of the workers over the roar coming from the big vats of curds and whey but I didn't catch a word so I just smiled and nodded. The room was small and about a quarter of the space was taken up by the two big vats but there was room for about three stainless-steel tables. I was taken up to one of them where I met Linda, a pretty black-haired young woman who was very very sweet. We worked together at the table which was piled high with molds. Our job was to one by none take the weights and the lid off before banging the mold to loosen the cheese so we could flip it over. When the cheese was flipped we put the lid and weights back on and started on the next mold. The women moved quickly but my inexperienced hands worked about half as slow. Nevertheless, in a matter of minutes the whole table was miraculously done! After this I walked back downstairs to la bel all the cheese for a few orders until the second batch was ready to be put into molds. When I was done I again went pustairs where the women were already scooping curds into more molds. I washed my arms carefully from shoulder to finger with warm water and soap before walking over to the tubs and sinking my arm in alongside Linda. The warm yellow whey felt so good against my skin as I fished my mold around to collect the tiny soft pieces of whey. After about twenty minutes of scooping and filling most of the curds were gone so we went back to flipping the cheese. Outside the rain drizzled and two beautiful white geese stood and watched us work as their fuzzy yellow-gray goslings goofed around nearby. After this great morning, the ladies took off for lunch so I stayed behind to eat lunch with Tom, Rosie and Brennan. We ate together for about an hour until it was time to get back to work. Tom took off to finish pouring cement on the roof of Fingal's new house (it's going to be a grass roof) while Rosie went to go weed Clovis' garden and Brennan went to check on the pregnant cows. I headed back to the dairy where I met Derek Darius who vaguely reminds me of a polish version of Manuel from Fawlty towers. He's a funny little man with thick fingers and an even thicker neck who laughs a lot and makes lots of noises to supplement his mediocre English (mediocre is generous). When he first met me, he kissed my hand and just said "from Poland" with a wave of his hand. We spent the afternoon together laughing in "the dungeon" while washing mold off of the wax of the smoked Gubbeen cheeses. After an afternoon of washing and carrying heavy cheese the day was over so I changed out of my boots, apron and gloves and walked back to my trailer (I'll call it Browny?) only to find that the road was full of cows! But no matter, at least the smell of cows is infinitelty better than the smell of pigs.
My first day was absolutely fantastic. Despite my excitement for work, my jetlag really took over and I didn't wake until around 11am so I started work late (Rosie had said to sleep in as much as I wanted). I went to the dairy straight away and was directed by Eileen to go upstairs to the cheese-making room. I donned a white apron, white wellies, a hairnet and a pair of green rubber gloves before entering through the glass doors. Inside, Eileen shouted out the names of the workers over the roar coming from the big vats of curds and whey but I didn't catch a word so I just smiled and nodded. The room was small and about a quarter of the space was taken up by the two big vats but there was room for about three stainless-steel tables. I was taken up to one of them where I met Linda, a pretty black-haired young woman who was very very sweet. We worked together at the table which was piled high with molds. Our job was to one by none take the weights and the lid off before banging the mold to loosen the cheese so we could flip it over. When the cheese was flipped we put the lid and weights back on and started on the next mold. The women moved quickly but my inexperienced hands worked about half as slow. Nevertheless, in a matter of minutes the whole table was miraculously done! After this I walked back downstairs to la bel all the cheese for a few orders until the second batch was ready to be put into molds. When I was done I again went pustairs where the women were already scooping curds into more molds. I washed my arms carefully from shoulder to finger with warm water and soap before walking over to the tubs and sinking my arm in alongside Linda. The warm yellow whey felt so good against my skin as I fished my mold around to collect the tiny soft pieces of whey. After about twenty minutes of scooping and filling most of the curds were gone so we went back to flipping the cheese. Outside the rain drizzled and two beautiful white geese stood and watched us work as their fuzzy yellow-gray goslings goofed around nearby. After this great morning, the ladies took off for lunch so I stayed behind to eat lunch with Tom, Rosie and Brennan. We ate together for about an hour until it was time to get back to work. Tom took off to finish pouring cement on the roof of Fingal's new house (it's going to be a grass roof) while Rosie went to go weed Clovis' garden and Brennan went to check on the pregnant cows. I headed back to the dairy where I met Derek Darius who vaguely reminds me of a polish version of Manuel from Fawlty towers. He's a funny little man with thick fingers and an even thicker neck who laughs a lot and makes lots of noises to supplement his mediocre English (mediocre is generous). When he first met me, he kissed my hand and just said "from Poland" with a wave of his hand. We spent the afternoon together laughing in "the dungeon" while washing mold off of the wax of the smoked Gubbeen cheeses. After an afternoon of washing and carrying heavy cheese the day was over so I changed out of my boots, apron and gloves and walked back to my trailer (I'll call it Browny?) only to find that the road was full of cows! But no matter, at least the smell of cows is infinitelty better than the smell of pigs.
Gubbeen at last
5/30:
I immediately show my true colors -- when Rosie picks me up we walk up to her little white car and I go straight for the right side. She smiles and I sheepishly walk around to get in on the left side. Kipper the bulldog is in the back and he greets me with a big doggy smile. The drive is nearly an hour and a half but it goes by in a flash for me. We pass countless towns, each beautiful and quaint with cobblestone streets and tiny colorful houses jammed together. I want to stop at each town. Rosie keeps apologizing for the fact that there's no roadway btu I assure her that I ADORE the tiny country roads and little sights we get to see. The radio quietly plays opera and Irish music as we cruise through green in a light misty sprinkle of rain. We finally round a corner and I see ocean, we've arrived at Schull and we pull off the road to see Tom at the Farmer's market. I shake his rouch hand and he feeds me salami with pistachio in it while Rosie hands me slices of Gubbeen. We stop at the stand next door to buy some Irish soda bread which looks dark and hefty. After getting two gourmet burgers at another stand we chew and swallow as we walk the main (and only) street of Schull. There is a film festival going on this weekend so the town is covered in blue and yellow confetti and streamers. We say hi to everyone that passes. In just the one street there are probably about 4 or 5 pubs. Rosie promises we'll go. We pass a bookstore, fish monger, grocery store, pharmacy, health food store and a handful of other stores before we come to the end. We turn around to get the car and then we drive for a few minutes until we get to Gubbeen House. We turn off the main road and enter through a beautiful wooded area that opens up to reveal a fairytale bunch of buildings. More cobblestones cover the ground and 300 year old buildings make it look like I've just stepped into a postcard. I can see why people believe in fairies, gnomes and leprechauns around here.
I take my bags over to my luxurious trailer (with electricity, hot water and even a bathroom!) which looks out to a buttercup-covered field.
After changing shoes Rosie takes me to tour the farm. The smell of cows scents the air gently as we walk the paths until we reach the dairy. The smell of cheese, brine, whey and salt fill the air. We pass hundreds of cheese rounds and I get more and more excited about my first day tomorrow. We meet Rose who comes every Sunday to brine and wash all the cheeses. After our tour of the dairy Rosie takes me to see the animals. A handful of chickens peck around the yard and a huge goose with a shining orange beak hisses viciously at us. Rosie sends a kick in his direction and he quiets down. We pass in to the incubator room where a rucous of peeping comes from dozens of chicks. Back outside peacocks strut about as we walk over to see the newborn calves, ducklings and piglets. Then Tom invites me for dinner and we eat delicious lemon sole, chips, and peas. I meet Rosie's boyfriend Brennan and then almost collapse from exhaustion on my way back home. The door of my trailer has barely closed before I land on the bed fast asleep.
I immediately show my true colors -- when Rosie picks me up we walk up to her little white car and I go straight for the right side. She smiles and I sheepishly walk around to get in on the left side. Kipper the bulldog is in the back and he greets me with a big doggy smile. The drive is nearly an hour and a half but it goes by in a flash for me. We pass countless towns, each beautiful and quaint with cobblestone streets and tiny colorful houses jammed together. I want to stop at each town. Rosie keeps apologizing for the fact that there's no roadway btu I assure her that I ADORE the tiny country roads and little sights we get to see. The radio quietly plays opera and Irish music as we cruise through green in a light misty sprinkle of rain. We finally round a corner and I see ocean, we've arrived at Schull and we pull off the road to see Tom at the Farmer's market. I shake his rouch hand and he feeds me salami with pistachio in it while Rosie hands me slices of Gubbeen. We stop at the stand next door to buy some Irish soda bread which looks dark and hefty. After getting two gourmet burgers at another stand we chew and swallow as we walk the main (and only) street of Schull. There is a film festival going on this weekend so the town is covered in blue and yellow confetti and streamers. We say hi to everyone that passes. In just the one street there are probably about 4 or 5 pubs. Rosie promises we'll go. We pass a bookstore, fish monger, grocery store, pharmacy, health food store and a handful of other stores before we come to the end. We turn around to get the car and then we drive for a few minutes until we get to Gubbeen House. We turn off the main road and enter through a beautiful wooded area that opens up to reveal a fairytale bunch of buildings. More cobblestones cover the ground and 300 year old buildings make it look like I've just stepped into a postcard. I can see why people believe in fairies, gnomes and leprechauns around here.
I take my bags over to my luxurious trailer (with electricity, hot water and even a bathroom!) which looks out to a buttercup-covered field.
After changing shoes Rosie takes me to tour the farm. The smell of cows scents the air gently as we walk the paths until we reach the dairy. The smell of cheese, brine, whey and salt fill the air. We pass hundreds of cheese rounds and I get more and more excited about my first day tomorrow. We meet Rose who comes every Sunday to brine and wash all the cheeses. After our tour of the dairy Rosie takes me to see the animals. A handful of chickens peck around the yard and a huge goose with a shining orange beak hisses viciously at us. Rosie sends a kick in his direction and he quiets down. We pass in to the incubator room where a rucous of peeping comes from dozens of chicks. Back outside peacocks strut about as we walk over to see the newborn calves, ducklings and piglets. Then Tom invites me for dinner and we eat delicious lemon sole, chips, and peas. I meet Rosie's boyfriend Brennan and then almost collapse from exhaustion on my way back home. The door of my trailer has barely closed before I land on the bed fast asleep.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Dublin
5/30:
I arrive in Dublin after six hours of 'puddle jumping' and I immediately get a livelier though dirtier vibe. Again it is early but this time instead of bums and pigeons, there's only a crowd of old men gathered around a single TV that's blaring some soccer match. I'm so early the ticket counter isn't even open so I go to look for the vodafone store only to find that it no longer exists.
Now I'm waiting for this tiny sandwich bar to open because I've been told they sell SIM cards here. I amuse myself by watching people, admiring the way-better European vending machine candy and watching the clever coke commercials.
I arrive in Dublin after six hours of 'puddle jumping' and I immediately get a livelier though dirtier vibe. Again it is early but this time instead of bums and pigeons, there's only a crowd of old men gathered around a single TV that's blaring some soccer match. I'm so early the ticket counter isn't even open so I go to look for the vodafone store only to find that it no longer exists.
Now I'm waiting for this tiny sandwich bar to open because I've been told they sell SIM cards here. I amuse myself by watching people, admiring the way-better European vending machine candy and watching the clever coke commercials.
Lethargy
5/29:
Exhaustion is setting in. People walk by in masses now and attention to detail is lessening. Maybe the heat has something to do with it too, the sun comes and goes but when it comes it's suddenly muggy and you can almost taste a heaviness in your mouth.
An iced tea break helps but I'm feeling lethargic in this chair.
Sitting here sinking deeper and deeper into the chair I start to people watch and that's when I begin to notice the button down shirts, loafers, sun dresses and khakis. All playing up the preppy stereotype I guess. Makes me feel glad I'm wearing the striped Lacoste that Natalia gave me since it's probably the only brand-name thing I own.
Exhaustion is setting in. People walk by in masses now and attention to detail is lessening. Maybe the heat has something to do with it too, the sun comes and goes but when it comes it's suddenly muggy and you can almost taste a heaviness in your mouth.
An iced tea break helps but I'm feeling lethargic in this chair.
Sitting here sinking deeper and deeper into the chair I start to people watch and that's when I begin to notice the button down shirts, loafers, sun dresses and khakis. All playing up the preppy stereotype I guess. Makes me feel glad I'm wearing the striped Lacoste that Natalia gave me since it's probably the only brand-name thing I own.
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