Campervan Therapy

We find ourselves on a bit of grandparent duty in Devon’s Exminster. But camping up in Crablake Farm is anything but a duty. Imagine rolling green hills; apple trees bent sideways; daffodils in lemon and gold. Just over the hill there’s the Exe Estuary in all its moods.

We ramble along high-hedged lanes to Kenn, circling back to Exminster, pushing an obligingly sleeping granddaughter, through celandine and primrose studded banks. Hazel trees are just coming into bud, lambs frolic in the fields. Holden Woods stands on the crest of a hill as if guarding this bucolic scene.

Wandering round the forestry track the air’s infused with flowering gorse’s coconut scent. The pine trees feel mysterious with their glaucous green. I keep a city girl’s eye out after I read the warning about snakes though. But the only wildlife encounter is with bees bumbling around the heather, and a pheasant strutting around in complete confidence now that he knows the hunting season is finished.

Down in Exminster’s community café, there’s an army of retired women. One of them is worried about us sitting outside, even though the sun is shining, insisting, “You take a few of them there blankets, my lovely, to protect your posterior on those seats.” We make short work of our cheese and ham toasties in the safe knowledge that our posteriors are protected.

One interesting by-product of staying at Crablake Farm throughout the year is the feeling of being close to where our food is produced. Jeremy, the farmer, is a fount of knowledge about growing food with a mind towards sustainability as well as effective food production.

He tells us that if pasture is well managed it’s a better carbon sink than woodland. A month ago we witnessed Jeremy on his quad bike throughout the night, in the pouring rain, as his sheep were lambing. This month he tells us they’re almost done, yet he is still working through the night, along with his two lively sheep dogs.

I love the red Devon cattle that come over to say hello to us as we pass every morning. They graze the lush pasture throughout the year.

Our visit to Riverford Organic Farm near Totnes is a mouth-watering treat. We feasted here in  Autumn after touring the farm and the polytunnels full of squashes like so many surreal sculptures. This time there’s a dried flower workshop, which we’re invited to watch. Of course, we end up stumbling round a just ploughed field, Seán carrying one baby, our daughter-in-law, Louise, the other because it wouldn’t be a Conway-O’Brien walk without a bit of stumbling round, lost in a field.

The field kitchen is scented with dried herbs and flowers which hang on the walls of the domed barn. Diners take what dishes come, but each is a delicate delight: beetroot and feta borani, pickled cucumber and labneh, chilli oil infused leaves, pork belly, roasted new potatoes, garlic and spinach, Hispi cabbage in butter and cider. Finally, Chocolate Nemesis is no nemesis for me and I’m in gourmet heaven.

Riverford’s staff are so inviting perhaps due to them owning shares in the company. Even more generous, campervans can stay overnight if they phone ahead and ask permission. We’ll be back.