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LAST PLANE HOME - PART FOUR: Well the first day on the farm started quite early with a few minor disappointments: the CD player didn't want to work, my batteries were flat (so couldn't use my discman) and Martin had left his UK/NZ power adaptor at B&D's, so couldn't use his laptop. But we got over it pretty quickly, especially when it was time for breakfast, and then a more detailed exploration of the farmland. Naturally, we had a chat with the owners, gaining a bit of knowledge of the surrounding area (which has since been forgotten :P) and some tips on what to do. They had generously provided travel brochures and the like topical to Dorset; understandably, they wouldn't want bored guests getting in the way while amusing themselves on the farm. Kathy was peculiarly interested in the lambs in particular, even going so far as to name one of them, with the collaboration of the Solly's daughter, Izzy. Personally, I've always regarded sheep of any age or size largely as smelly, dirty and not in the least bit cute or desirable - even on a plate, to be honest. I prefer meats with more flavour - anything habitually served with a garnishing like mint sauce simply to give it flavour gets a big cross in my 'prefered foods' box. The English seem to like it, though, and I think I might've even had some for dinner at the 'Chalk & Cheese', the pub in Maiden Newton where we dined that evening. An aspect of the farm that I found quite intriguing, apart from the expanses of fields perfect for aimless wandering, was the Badger nesting sites. One was particularly close at hand, and so that night as the sky dimmed to purple hue, and twilight fell over the land, we left to spy on some creatures of the night. Well, badgers anyway. Too dark to take pictures - flash wouldn't be a good idea, for us or the badgers - our eyes gradually adjusted (some faster than others, perhaps), and as darkness we could dimly make out the shapes of trees, and the darker forms of badger burrows. It seemed like hours, but finally we could hear movement, and after yet longer could make out dark movements. It sounds quite prosaic and boring relating the situation now, but at the time it really was quite something to watch these dark, mysterious animals snuffling about their business. Relics of a Biplane Age - 12/4/04
Enough loafing about on the farm for the moment; today it was time to loaf around in cars while we journeyed the countryside. Family #2 disappeared int eh direction of Dorchestor, the county capital. I think London had sated our appetite for cities, for a few days at least, and being the last day Martin was with us, we headed Northwards for the Fleet Arm Air Museum; his chosen destination. We took the scenic route (which is pretty much any given route through Dorset), quite picturesque, and by mid-morning we arrived. Tickets weren't too expensive, all things considering (9.50 quid), since you could spend literally hours taking it all in. I wasn't particularly interested in the vast array of near-antiques - WWI and II displays - but in the modern aircraft, in particular the Concorde prototype and some of the Navy displays. The display on the Falkand Islands fiasco/farce was quite amusing - putting a patriotic stance on what was a bit of an overall balls-up was quite an inspired piece of work. Just later in the afternoon, Martin was subjected to group photos; inescapable proof that he was in fact there with us. Work had need of him back in NZ - personally I would've been inclined to tell them to shove it, but for whatever reason (mitigating circumstances, I believe - finances, for one) he obliged them and therefore was forced to return. If he was thinking anything along the same lines as me, he no doubt at least considered the possibility of not returning, but he takes his obligations seriously. |