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After taking a reality check at the end of last year's miserably wet summer, I returned to my old job and tentatively placed one foot back into my previous life. However, this difficult recoil into the past has injected some much needed balance, and allowed plans on the farm to grow at a more realistic and considered pace, as one crop in particular starts to shine.
As I write this, I sit snuggled away in a remote holiday cottage in mid Wales around 10 miles north of Dolgellau. It's our family summer holiday, so inevitably I am watching the driving rain and gale force winds batter the panes of a conservatory window as I anticipate losing yet another game of Monopoly. If the internet connection wasn’t so bloody hopeless, I would be researching the cost of an all inclusive trip to the Costa del Sol. In fairness, it's a dramatic and beautiful vista that surrounds us, with countless specks of white sheep dotting the sodden landscape, and Red Kites shifting erratically in the gusts as if tethered to the ground on long strings. There's an eerie disconnect as the roar of the nearby river and the howling winds are muted by the comfortable filter of a double glazed window, but it's blustery out there.
Its our first proper holiday in a couple of years, and I took on the responsibility of finding something cheap and cheerful and not too far to travel - and seem to have stumbled upon the remotest outpost in Mid Wales. The track that led us here meandered through some of the most desolate and breathtaking terrain imaginable, with the silhouettes of the Snowdonia mountains providing the backdrop to secret waterfalls, tumbled stone wrecks and pockets of ancient woodland. You will see no Tesco delivery vans around here. However, despite the epic vastness of my surroundings, I am struggling to keep still in the confines of the conservatory as it creates an inverted goldfish bowl around us, and we expectantly monitor the rain that is preventing us from venturing out. Although, in truth, I am equally appreciative of the forced rest.
In many ways this holiday is indicative of the changes this year has heralded, with a move back to mainstream work at the end of last year enabling a more conventional existence. Whilst the farm continues to evolve in the background, my commitment here is considerably reduced, with a scaled down and more focused approach to crop selection combined with paid help alleviating the burden. I have also eliminated many of the inefficiencies that have plagued this venture, to include a number of crops that just did not pay. In many ways things have felt more controlled and better managed this year and, somewhat counter-intuitively, I actually feel like I am getting somewhere, despite my apparent rebound into the past. It's an odd situation as I straddle these two worlds and, in truth, the initial transition was incredibly difficult as I moved from a bedraggled hillbilly battling the elements on a remote hillside market garden, to a respectable social worker in an air conditioned office - but sometimes you just need to take a step back, before you can take two steps forward. Although the fundamental motivation for this move was financial, it has also been stabilising, as I re-connect with some of the routines, interactions and challenges I had not realised were so important to me. Above all, it has made me realise that the strategy on the farm should now take a more gradual and considered approach that combines conventional employment - at least until I am certain the farm offers me what I need both financially, and emotionally.
On the farm I have been ruthlessly assessing what is working - and it doesn’t amount to much. There are, however, genuine glimmers of hope and I have worked so incredibly hard to get the business to this point I am determined to make these glimmers shine. I can see that I have become more efficient, and that the land has evolved into a fertile and usable space. I have also gained a great deal of knowledge around growing, land management and marketing - and this has been incredibly humbling. One thing I’ve learned above all, is that it's a difficult industry to crack, and it takes incredible stamina and ingenuity to make it feasible. But I have also learned that it is possible.
To this aim, and through a process of brutal elimination, I have discovered the merits of a few crops, and in particular garlic. Garlic has so many benefits: It grows through the winter, meaning artificial irrigation is generally not necessary and weed pressure is far less intense; it is also relatively easy and efficient to sow, as it is directly sown into the field with large easy to manage cloves; and garlic also suffers less from mainstream pests, such as slugs.
However, perhaps the most significant positive is the storage quality of garlic - and it's this that's been the game changer for me. Once cured, garlic can keep for many months and, combined with its useful size and form, makes shipping it in bulk possible. Therefore, my potential customer base has effectively grown from the couple of thousand people that live locally, to the population of the mainland UK.
Whilst keeping true to regenerative growing principles and maintaining a small local supply of produce, I have primarily used this season to trial a garlic share scheme that builds on concepts such as "crowd-farming" and Community Supported Agriculture (CSA). The idea is that the customer invests £21 in a small plot of the farm which is paid for on a subscription basis, and this space then goes on to yield around 18 bulbs every year which we then post in July. It's a great concept that not only provides a lovely product for our shareholders who can follow its provenance and feel connected to its production, but also gives us a guaranteed customer base, predictable incomes, direct sales and good returns on the yields. From making a small number of shares available at the beginning of the year, the concept has grown, with Pili-Pala garlic finding its way across the UK, from London to Edinburgh, and we are earmarking 500 shares for 2025. Whats more, because the garlic harvest is usually completed by May/June it allows the opportunity to fit in a high value summer crop - and this year we have been experimenting with sunflowers, tomatoes and round courgettes.
With the security of my day job and the healthy balance this brings I am no rush to progress things, and will evolve at a measured pace. I have 15,000 garlic ready to plant in November, and plan to achieve this in one single afternoon, with some live music, good food, strong beer and the support of the amazing people that form this community. Perhaps this cheerful winter "garlic-fest" marks the turning point for the farm, and I will be welcoming the same kindred spirits back next year to plant 30,000.
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