Contrary to my plans I find myself in Nice, in the city. It is warm and throngs of tourists are spread across the pebbly beach, scattered in the bright blue sea and sitting in bars, restaurants and coffee shops. The atmosphere is busting and happy, these are holidaymakers enjoying the sunshine the food and the city.
If I had stuck to my plans I would still be half way up the mountain that over looks this city right now. As it turned out there was not much to do on the farm up there after the morning milking and the farmer was not very communicative, welcoming or sociable, so I decided to leave. The final straw was when I was left to do the milking alone without warning and the 12 goats on the milking platform got their heads out of their feed troughs and started stealing each others food and turning around so the suctions teats popped off their udders, it was chaotic and stressful and looking back almost funny. I knew that if the goats were not milked until there was no milk left that it wasn’t very good for them but I had not idea how to get the stubborn goats back into their positions and carry on. It was in that moment that I wondered why on earth I was here, working with these annoying and obstinate animals! But I decided to blame the farmer and not the goats and fled to the city.
So now I am in a land of tall buildings, narrow street, buskers, trams and people weaving in and out of the tables and chairs that line the pavements. It feels a million miles away from the countryside, the open space, the rough ground and the agricultural lifestyle. But one depends on the other and food is a link between them.