The goats, we’re not so sure about. We fell in love with this tiny kid, a fuzz ball who just hopped around all the time. When a storm rolled in our second night, I seriously contemplated bringing him in to huddle up in our tent. Merlin said he’d be fine where he was and I chose to believe him.
It was the first time that we were given the option of staying in a teepee. I never got up the courage to poke my head in and see what one was like inside. (wouldn’t want to barge in on someone smoking a peace pipe or anything) The campsite had so much quirky charm that the conical huts barely stood out at all. Just behind them, on a hill, was an enormous wooden, winged horse, which children could climb up inside.
Another sleeping option was kipping – sleeping in the straw. We want to kip before leaving the country, but with our tent right there available, it seemed silly. Also, I'm not sure igniting a camp stove would have been allowed in their hayloft.
The bathroom and wash-up area were attached to the barn. No matter what time of day or night we went in, the radio was blaring - presumably to keep the cows inside calmer. It was the first campsite bathroom that didn't have that cold, public restroom feeling. The building was coed (not the showers themselves) and the farm smell covered up the off-putting scent of our "lemon" dishwashing soap. Something about sorting our trash and doing our dishes on the porch while old man Gerbe passed by with a lawn mower made us so happy. It was a little hard to leave.
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