Crooked End Farm

"Travel: ORIGIN Middle English:

Variant of TRAVAIL and originally in the same sense."- Webster

The following day we took our time reaching our next wwoof assignment: Crooked End Farm. We stopped at the Lantony Abby a 12th century relic with silent pillars and rock walls all around. The Abbys' had a hotel on site since the 1760's and the Bar has only been open for100 years. Matt played his guitar in a tucked away corner and the sound echoed throughout bringing with it a bit of home. Down at the cozy pub we raised our glasses in honor of beer-brewing monks everywhere, shared a Market Plate of cheese and pickles and were on our way to Crooked End in Ruardeen in England's west midlands.

From the moment we pulled into town I had a bad feeling about it. Sorry Ruardeen, no hard feelings please, you're just a little rundown, a little depressed. I wonder what happened to you? I know the tanked economy has hit small towns in a hard way, but it seems like you’ve been down for a while….

When we got to the farm the welcome we received from our host was luke-warm at best. Filled with apprehension towards our coming days I bid my farewell to Captain Davies and seriously considered calling after him to turn around as I watched him drive away. Our host quickly introduced us to her very sweet (but a little too-perky if you ask me) assistant who led us to our shabby dwelling to drop off our bags and then through a quick tour of the farm.

Remember what I said about the Hatch? Everywhere we looked something was beautiful and interesting- I would say the opposite was true at Crooked End. Granted they've only been up and running for a couple of years and our hosts both have other jobs to pay the bills and young children to contend with so I know I shouldn’t be too hard on them. I don't really want to get into it actually. I'll just say I thought the place lacked structure, was messy, dirty (yes I know it's a farm but seriously…) and I was very happy to be back on a bus 4 (seemingly long) days later.

In defense of our time spent at Crooked End I will say that we met two very sweet French woofers, fed baby sheep from a bottle, went for some beautiful long walks in the countryside, had my first tractor driving lesson and made it to dart night down at the local. Pretty good I guess for an otherwise bunk detour.