One of the disadvantages of travelling with me is that I sometimes have a strange idea of what’s fun. Case in point: getting up early in the morning while on holidays to make our own breakfast!
I wasn’t sure if I’d get everyone up by the 7 am call time, but we all made it out of our rooms with a respectable degree of enthusiasm. There were about a dozen intrepid souls that left the tranquility of the lodge to prepare and enjoy breakfast on the farm. We climbed into the back of a dusty pickup truck onto a series of benches, and took a very bumpy ride to the small farm owned by our lodge. It was time to get to work.
We started by milking the cow. We took turns, producing an amazingly small quantity of milk. (Yes, even this farm girl, who didn’t grow up on a dairy farm, had to work at at.)
Next we moved to collecting eggs. That was a bit daunting, as the hens were reluctant to let these foreigners forage for their own breakfast. But forage we did, and we came out with our eyes intact, as well as (mostly) our toes.