English Summer of 1976, just done my A-levels (2 of, rather ordinary) in Surrey & the family moved to our new home on a hillside in North Wales. My parents had bought a small farm near where we'd been holidaying for years. At about 25 acres it was called 'Caer Ferch Uchaf' (upper daughter's field) to distinguish it from lower daughter's field farm across the road. We had 60 sheep, 5 cows, ducks, geese, chooks,pigs, dogs & cats.
I stayed down south for the summer & as C is very tired of hearing it was the hottest summer in recorded geological time & the year of the first Icelandic cod war. This was a non-trivial 'debate' between Brittania & the Icelanders over fishing in the far north. Their trawlers drove at our gunships, harsh words were exchanged & our ambassador had fish thrown at him in Reykjavik High St. I had a great time, fell in unrequited love with the aforementioned ambassador's daughter, worked as a window cleaner (as did she) & went to pop festivals. Can't resist a wild-haired proto-feminist in dungarees. Eventually moved up to the farm just before school re-started.
Was a little surprised that many of my contemporaries didn't speak fluent English.
My sister & brother were freaked out that many of their primary school class didn't speak English, period.
It was a huge culture shock for all of us & in hindsight a life-changing, character forming period. I think we all look back on it fondly, I do.
When our family broke up under difficult circumstances mid-80s the farm was sold & we all moved away to various parts of the UK. I've only been back once in 22yrs or so & that visit was very brief & clouded with emotion.
This trip I wanted to show C where we lived & so we decided rock up to the farm & see if we could look around. I was sooo excited as we drove up the driveway I was almost incoherent. Luckily the current owners Maureen & (dammit, can't find the piece of paper with their names on) were wonderful hosts & let us roam all over the place & even photograph inside the house, my old bedroom etc. They've been there 20yrs or so & are very sad to be leaving as he's not well they can no longer keep the place going. A lovely, lovely couple of hours. C kept misting up at the intensity of the experience but carried on filming. Call it reality TV? Hope it's not too indulgent…
This is the weirdest thing ever!
ReplyDeleteTheir names are Maureen and Roger Adams. They are my great aunt and uncle. I used to spend every February on this farm as a child. Haven't been, or seen them, for nearly ten years now, and miss it very much.
I can't believe I just found this...
I am friendly with the gentleman who owns the farm now, Peter Wright. He boughtbit approx four or five years ago with his wife cwhobhas since passed away. I've yet to go to the farm but it sounds wonderful
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