Today we managed to tether our mamma goat Rose for the first time. She is so named because she munched her way through all of the lovely rose bushes that once adorned the house here. Tethering has been a long time in coming and Laurence and I have been back and forth on the issue, at one point even deciding that we no longer wanted the goats but - alas - it seems that we love them, so stay they must. Rose and her two grown up kids Bella and Bill have been roaming the fields of this hillside freely for the past three years. They have been utterly unimpeded by fences or feelings of guilt over eating other peoples silage because - as goats do not seem to understand land ownership- they have been wandering not only on our property, but on the surrounding properties as well; much to the consternation of our neighbours. So in the spirit of community cohesion we scoured the internet, Amazon and the farm hardware shop Drinagh for the appropriate kit, without success. I was really quite surprised that no specific goat tethering products existed. I was forced to conclude that Laurence and I are ahead of the trend and that there will be loads of choice in a couple of years when goat ownership really starts to take off. This might not be as far fetched as it first may sound, I recently saw an article from the Independent (via Facebook) about a report concluding that there would be global food shortages in 2040 if human beings carried on being destructive to the planet. Ian (the owner of our house) says that he thinks that with the inevitable descent of modern industrial civilisation, goat ownership will have a revival because their capacity to produce manure, milk and associated products would be a real asset to small scale self sufficiency. Although I don't think that Laurence agrees because he has on numerous occasions pointed out "We always meet people who used to keep goats. Why don't they keep goats anymore?" In the end we opted for dog collars and tie out cables.
Aside from the cleaning, clearing, digging and planting we've spent a lot of the last couple of months trying to find things like spades, compost, shower units and hoovers either in our local town Castletownbere or on the internet. We're limited by not having driving licenses or a car so we must rely on courier services to deliver goods. They have yet to actually find us and getting an item delivered always turns into a big palava. This is mainly because we have no door number, street name or post code. Our address is simply, "Kilkinnikin East" and we share this address with a dozen other houses. So far couriers have delivered goods to Ian's son, a neighbour and a lady called Maggie who takes packages on behalf of courier services that refuse to go west of Castletownbere. One courier even tried to find out if we lived near a pub because apparently dropping parcels off at the "local" is common practice in rural Ireland.
Thankfully we are finding that we can extend the geographical range of our movement by combining cycling and hitch-hiking. I recently made it to Bantry (65km away) and back again which was great. I'd never really hitch-hiked before coming to Ireland last year but due to the lack of public transport and the abundance of hippies it is not uncommon in West Cork. It can be a little disconcerting standing by the side of the road with your thumb out and watching dozens of cars fly by, their drivers uncomfortably avoiding your gaze. But I tend to forget about this when one eventually does pull up because my experience thus far has been nothing but positive. People who stop tend to be nice because it's very nice to give a stranger a lift and I've met some interesting people and had some nice chats. It's like getting a snap shot into someone elses existence. So far I have met a greyhound trainer who left school aged 13 who's daughter won scientist of the year award, a really cool lady heading to mind body and soul festival who had recently moved home to Beara after many years of living in Dublin and a woman who always picks up female or couple hitch-hikers but no longer men because she once picked up a man who's son had recently died, he was alarmingly morose and she became convinced that he would kill her.
Our current focus is on how to make money. We had the amazing luck of being offered jobs at an open source cafe that a German couple we know recently opened in Castletownbere. The cafe only takes donations for items and customers choose how much they want to pay. The cafe is not run for profit and any excess earnings are put towards planting a forest on the Beara Peninsula, a goal that is very close to my heart. However, it turned out that they couldn't really pay us, only offer a percentage of the takings which could be as low as €50 a day. And whilst Laurence and I are happy to help out with such a project, it wasn't going to pay the bills so we had to go back to the drawing board. Aside from searching for part-time work and flirtations with the dole (to dole or not to dole?), we've decided to rent out a room in the cottage on AirBnb and have been readying the house up by painting the bathroom and trying to get our shower fixed. It broke a few weeks ago. At one point there was water gushing out of the shower unit and through the kitchen ceiling. It turned out to be another big palava, but I think it might almost be sorted which is good because we've been washing in a bucket outside for the past few weeks. Another idea was to charge hikers and cyclists to camp on our land. However I feel a little guilty about this considering that last summer we cycled across England, Wales and Ireland completely on the generosity of strangers letting us camp in their fields and gardens for free. I probably won't end up taking any money from them - and anyway - it's nice to have new faces around when you live in the middle of nowhere. It's amazing how interesting other people become when you only see Laurence for days on end.