Back from a short trip to/around Devon. Highlights included:
1) – Hitching down. A few long waits near the start and more dickheads & misanthropes than on previous occasions (one guy pulled over, asked if I was homeless, asked if I needed work, offered to pay me £10/day to ‘push around a wheelbarrow’, and drove off when I declined). Otherwise some really nice, friendly people: old and young; ex-hitchers and first-timers; male and female; hatchbacks, 4x4s, rundown trucks and even a beamer (! – almost never happens); retired ex-military, off-duty policeman, builder, electrical engineer, council worker, hippie type, housewife; Surrey to Devon in around nine hours
2) – Meeting Robin Harford and going on one of his ‘Wild Food Foraging Courses‘ – super-informative, mixing history, politics, recipes, personal stories, nutritional info and the all-important hands-on taste tests. I met hemlock for the first time (taller than I’d imagined, not as bad-smelling as the books had me believing, kindof a thrill knowing here was a plant that could kill me – R had a charming story about an American family who got paralysed for several days in the woods from eating a not-quite-lethal dose: the conscious waiting to see if you’ll die or pull out of it and whether some animal is going to come and “eat my face” in the meantime…), picked & ate my first raw stinging nettle (super-tasty & nutritious: treat it gently but firmly, pick a young, light-green top off at the stem, roll it all up into a ball inside one of the leaves and squash all the sting out of it between thumbs and forefingers, pop in mouth – prepare to get stung while practicing!) and saw the famed coast-hugging colonies of Alexanders, left by the Romans back in the day. Felt rather overstuffed at the end of two hours, but plenty of (wild) food for (wild) thought to take away with me and work on back home.
It was nice to meet somebody who has read a lot of the same books as me & synchs up to my way of seeing. Good talks about Alice Miller, Derrick Jensen and others… R and his partner had even tried to raise their daughter on continuum concept principles (failing largely because of a lack of community support), and there was a nice moment when he asked if I’d read Lierre Keith’s The Vegetarian Myth, and I replied that yes, I had a copy in my bag right there & then! So thanks to Robin and also to Chris who very kindly let me camp out on his land for a couple of nights.
3) – Driving around, and later wildcamping with H on Dartmoor.
4) – Coastwalking from Beer to Lyme Regis, with an especially nice stretch along the ‘Undercliff‘ which has reverted to woodland over a couple of centuries after a big landslip in 1839 eventually rendered the land unsuitable for other, more ‘productive’ uses:
One of the most spectacular landslips occurred on 24 December 1839, 3 miles (4.8 km) west along the coast in Devon belonging to Bindon Manor and known as “The Dowlands Landslip”. About 45 acres (18 ha) of fields growing wheat and turnips were dislodged when a great chasm was formed more than 300 feet (91 m) across, 160 feet (49 m) deep and 0.75 miles (1.21 km) long. The crops remained intact on the top of what became known as “Goat Island” among the newly formed gullies. On 3 February 1840, five weeks later, there was a second landslip nearby but much smaller than the former. This strange phenomenon attracted many visitors, and the canny farmers charged sixpence for entrance and held a grand reaping party when the wheat ripened. (link)
The whole area was positively buzzing with life, providing a tantalising glimpse of what this country could look like in the (hopefully) none-too distant future.
(The way I saw it there, and the way I’m seeing it more often everywhere I go: we humans are going to have to prove that we’re worth more than our weight in manure in helping the land get where it wants to go – if we want any chance of playing a part in that future, that is.)
5) – Meeting up and staying with C & M, old neighbours of ours who moved to a rural village near Honiton about ten years ago. Great to catch up and exchange shower & bed for tarp & sleeping bag for a couple of nights. More thanks!
6) – A day and a night in the New Forest, ‘wild’ ponies galloping through the campsite. Perhaps it was the wrong area, but the whole place felt ‘wild’ in a pretty sterile, managed, aesthetic-appeal-y kind of way. Great meals though, mixing in wild greens into ‘omni-mush’ mixes of, variously: rice, pasta, quinoa, couscous, dried veg, chicken curry, chili con carne … etc. Plus hearty helpings of hot porridge in the mornings, all over my little gas stove.
Anyway, I came back more-or-less in time to take the young beech leaves out of the gin they’d been soaking in for a little over a fortnight:
(Actually I left them in a cupboard, but outside looks more impressive. This (above) was the before shot; after the leaves had blanched a little and were going brown near the surface.) I got the idea from Food For Free where Richard Mabey has a recipe for ‘Beech Leaf Noyau’. After the soak, squeeze the lime-green gin infusion out of the leaves and simply mix with a cooled syrup (I followed Pamela Michael’s instructions in Edible Wild Plants And Herbs, where she halves Mabey’s amount of sugar to 225g, boiled for a few minutes in 125ml water – this for 75cl of gin) and add a few healthy glugs of white rum (Mabey suggests brandy but Michael opts for rum because she’s ‘afraid to alter the ethereal colour’). Bottle & serve. It goes down a treat – a smooth spring flavour and deceptively strong.
Possibly I’ve waited too long to post this and you won’t be able to try it until next year (I don’t know how it might turn out now that the leaves have toughened and darkened) – sorry! I’ll make up for it by telling you in advance that you can eat the nuts too, when they start to drop in the Autumn. I had good times in September/October laying my jacket under low-hanging branches, shaking out the pointy brown kernels and continuing my walk with a pocketful of them, which often wouldn’t last the journey home. You just need good thumbnails to open them and snack away! Handy tip: the ones that flatten when you pinch them are empty. Look, they’re starting to form already:
So yes, the Beech tree. I think it’s my current favourite. Check out this beauty soaking up all the sunshine at the top of my road: