I love this bit of Earth, and because my sprog is a bit young to be camping, we've splashed out on the aforementioned B&B for the sake of convenience. The Full English breakfast every morning is perhaps overdoing things, and I'm sure my arteries now resemble a cave where half-blocked walls reluctantly allow fluids past, and furry deposits amaze pot-holers with their sheer scale. Only made of lard and cholesterol. Not that I'm going to not have one for my last day tomorrow mind. I've paid for this, health risk or no, and I'm damned well going to choff my way through another plateful of egg, snorkers, bacon, fried bread, toast and the strangely out of place but tolerated tomato representing the vegetable minority in a meat and grease world.
It's a proper working dairy farm as well here, look:
As you can see, it's Friesian outside. A than' yew.
Now, in order to entertain my youngster, and to further facilitate his education in the natural world, we took him to a rather marvellous wildlife sanctuary stroke gardens stroke bird park stroke fish shop. He was initially fascinated by the peacocks, and one conveniently displayed for us, which probably gave my boy the impression that animals are put on this planet to pander to him in every way. This is not a mindset I want him to get into, as that way arrogance lies. Happily, the peacock concurred, choosing a moment of blissful peace and quiet to scream incoherently in my little boys face. Result - one wailing, shaking toddler who is now inconsolable if he so much as glimpses a feather.
Possibly a bit far that. We moved on and showed him some more peaceable birdies, like this ornamental pheasant, which soothed him a bit:
Purdy, huh?One thing they did have, which was pretty cool, was a family of tiny otters from the far east, which are only a couple of feet long. We were there in time for feeding, and it was great fun to behold. Very popular with the kiddies, and you can see why:
Another popular attraction was this:
Jurassic Pork. A few of our rarely seen native hogs, which are a lot bigger and cooler looking than I was expecting. Also hairy. Very, very hairy. Look at this thang:
There were some other unattended kids blocking our view, and I wanted to see the boars a bit more clearly without these jostling juveniles obstructing our view. They were a bit loathe to move using subtle techniques of "Can the little boy have a look?", and just stood there sullenly. At least they did until I informed them that those muddy, creamy spheres the boars were gnawing with their oversize tusks were actually the skulls of lost children, who's parents had decided it was easier to leave than traipse back all the way from the car park to look for them. There was sudden disquiet and, moment's later, an obvious urge to go and catch up with their folks.
Mind you, it's believable when you watch them:
See? Baby heads. Okay, it helps if you're six. And have been told it's a baby head by an irresponsible adult.
Still, their future costly therapy is a small price to pay, as my boy got some nice close up views and was rather taken with them, especially the baby pigs (called Hamlets, I believe) which found a comfy perch:
Very little difference to my own role really, offering a comfortable place to sit for ungrateful offspring.
