Wwoofing Begins

Bewildered, Mark and I shovelled down a quick bite of lunch while attempting to remember the names of the handful of other wwoofers in the kitchen. It was an international mix, with young people from Sweden, Germany, USA and South Africa. 

We were then led out of the main house, up the winding path to our accommodation. This was, in theory, a wooden room extended on the back of the hosts' cottage. But it was clear on entering that the four beds were already claimed. Great stuff. We threw our packs down and set off to find our evasive hosts.

Assured that we would be sorted out, I was asked to get to work. I had hoped for a little time to settle in and rest up first, but if work was needed then I was happy to pitch in. Alas, my helpfulness was unappreciated by Mr. Host who I quickly found shouting in my face. I'd done what I was told, transferring several loads of almonds into a storage container, but this wasn't good enough. Supposedly we weren't meant to stop working whenever we'd finished a job...

The rest of the day passed largely without incident and was spent helping prepare dinner for a dozen guests. As well as the washing up, of course! I should mention that most smaller organic farms in Spain seem to also operate as guest houses. So there is plenty of hostel/catering style work.

We eventually finished for the night. It had been a stressful and exhausting day. We trudged back up the path, threw together a tent that had appeared for us, and fell asleep to the sound of chirping grasshoppers and snuffling dogs.