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prague, czech republic

How to describe Prague in November?

The first thing we noticed was the cold. We were unprepared after the wet but mild English weather. Luckily, there was hot wine (svarak) from the Christmas markets to keep us warm! And a new coat and borrowed scarves and birthday mittens. Brrrr.

The next thing was the architecture. For a city that suffered through WWII, was all but abandoned for infrastructure maintenance during the forty years of communism, and had revolution in the 80s, Prague looks amazing. The colorful buildings and pastel sunsets make the city seem bright. The castle and medieval fortifications add history and context to the current day revelry.

We got a crash course in life under Communism and experienced the Day of Struggle for Freedom and Democracy, a holiday on November 17 that commemorates two student demonstrations. One was against communism in 1989, which started the Velvet Revolution, and one was in 1939, against the Nazi occupation. These events are still fresh in the minds of those who lived through them, and in Prague, people place candles and flowers at the site where students were brutally beaten by police in 1989.

We learned about other Czech holidays, like St. Martin’s Day, where the saint rides in on a white goose drinking sweet wine and it snows or something. Jk. We drank lots of pivo, with varying levels of foam, and gained an appreciation for tank circulation and economies of scale from restaurants who buy together in bulk.

And mostly, we enjoyed the company of old and new friends, spent lots of time not understanding what anyone was saying in Czech, and feeling pretty lucky to know such cool and generous people. Big thanks to Tomas and Gabriela for their patience and hospitality. Can't wait to pay it forward in the future. 

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kutna hora, czech republic

The main attraction in Kutna Hora is a church which houses the bones of people killed during the Bubonic Plague. Morbidly but fascinatingly, a priest in the 1800s decided to update the display of these bones by transforming them into decorative masterpieces with religious and political symbolism: the chalice of Christ, a crest, etc. We were speechless. 

The town was nice too! 

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Štípa, Zlín, and surroundings, czech republic

After leaving the UK, we headed over to Prague to visit Tomas, an old friend of Nick's who visited us in the US many moons ago, when Nick and I had a house full of kittens and a shiny new love. Tomas and his family gave us a crash course in Czech culture and a few basic phrases in our first weekend in his hometown. 

Rainy day hike in the forest with the Urbanek clan.

A+ countryside introduction to Nordic walking, courtesy of Marie. The secret is to bounce and loosen your shoulders!

Zlin’s football team is in the first division of the Czech league. Go shoemakers! A 1-0 victory.

Gypsy jazz night with the Urbanek clan at a coffee shop in an old converted shoe factory building. The town of Zlin was founded and guided pre-Communism by businessman Tomas Bat'a. His main business was shoe production but he expanded to raw materials and other foot-related services, building an international empire. His form of capitalism really valued the labor force, and he focused on creating a utopian industrial town with company-sponsored schools, hospital, and recreation. He emphasized lifelong learning, engaged in real-time profit sharing, decentralized management practices, and believed in smart mechanization as a way to free workers from drudgery. What a boss.

The series of photos above are from our trip to Luhačovice. The town is famous for its eight mineral springs, which are available from bubbling taps in the town center, and for the ornate architecture of the bath houses. It also makes a delicious thin pressed waffle cake. Yum. We drank from two of the streams, and the taste was a unique combination of minerals, salts, and sulfur. Double yum.  

We have to give a hearty shoutout to this lovely lady, Marie Urbankova, who was paparazzi, sports coach, tour guide, translator, and comedian all in one. Many of these photos are hers, since Nick lost (and found) his phone over the course of the weekend. Thanks Marie, Svetlana, and Pavel for your generosity and excellent hospitality! 

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the fold, bransford, united kingdom (part four)

Mythology (2015)

For Lucy, Janne, and Joseph Campbell

this is the ritual of preservation.

in the just insanity of the mad onslaught

of harvest, we take our tired limbs

joyfully to the kitchen.

this is how we mourn the damson tree,

who knew she was dying,

who painted her canvas with ripe color,

heavy with love for this life. 

our hearts swell in the pot,

threaten to boil over.

everywhere, the jam spreads

on chilled plates, fingers pushing

a wrinkled path through the film

like roots through the soil.

This poem is the latest of a series of apple butter poems.  You can see the previous ones using the links below, at Jackie’s poetry blog, Washington Weeds.

http://waweedspoetry.tumblr.com/post/102113869694/apple-butter-poems

http://waweedspoetry.tumblr.com/post/105036140544/marry-me-cornbread

Wonderful care farm volunteers.

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the fold, bransford, united kingdom (part three)

Inspired by a show on Netflix (yes, farm life still leaves time for Gotham and The Chef’s Table), we decided to try some traditional pit cooking with the seasonal bounty. Lots of cultures have some version of this style of cooking, from the Hawaiian imu to the Maori hangi, but the concept is similar: dig a pit, put hot rocks and something for moisture inside, add veggies and meat and cover with earth. I love the image of traditional people leaving the fire for the day with a covering of earth thick enough that smoke and smells can’t be detected, and then coming back in the evening with dinner ready and the coals under the food ready to start the next night’s fire.

In reality, the process is more art than science. With two hours of fire time to heat the rocks and four hours of cooking time, the root vegetables (beets, potatoes, and celeriac) turned out awesome, as did the hot peppers. The other veggies (broccoli, cauliflower, and green peppers) were overdone. Still, we considered the experiment a smoky success and look forward to trying it again at our next mountain bonfire!

Covering the pit with earth. We forgot to take pictures up to this point, but the other of things in the pit, from bottom to top, was: hot rocks, willow branches, comfrey leaves, food wrapped in wet sheet, more comfrey leaves, wet hessian, and earth.

A well-deserved break after the burial. I would love to have music and dancing as part of a harvest celebration while the cooking happens next time.

Smoking gently. We're still greenhorns.

Digging up the meal with friends.

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the fold, bransford, united kingdom (part two)

Last week was the fall equinox, the half way point between summer and winter, as well as pretty much the halfway point of this journey. Our host, Janne, made an apple and blackberry pie to celebrate, and we shared a bottle of wine around the campfire by the river.

There’s been a request for us to post more often, to say what we’re doing and seeing. But honestly, we haven’t been doing much - farming, walking around barefoot, eating lots of vegetables. Creating space for changes to happen. Dreaming and debating about a world where we feel free and obligated to be real about our inner lives and relationships with each other and nature. And practicing living it.

A lot of what we’ve been up to falls under the category of cultural reclamation. Reclaiming our sense of humanity and interconnectedness in a culture that emphasizes separation, binary and positive thinking, and homelessness. If that’s all too meta, here are some names and concepts that are catching our attention if you want to check them out for yourself: Earthing (barefoot earth electron exchange aka my next hipster band), Stephen Jenkinson and Orphan Wisdom (grief, grief, baby), Joseph Campbell and world mythology (rituals of initiation and for the things we eat, the divine in everything), the yamas and niyamas of yoga, the Transition Towns movement and local currency.

One of the most inspiring rituals here is that of council, where we sit in circle with the humans we live with and share from the heart whatever comes up for us in that moment. There is a palpable energy to the circle which is hard to describe but feels like the first step to facing the problems of the day with courage and compassion. Another is Hat Friday, a celebration of silliness and pointless grandeur that puts a pin in each week, making the passing of time real and playful. - J

Janne and her equinox pie.

A tug-of-war for the ages at SpookyFest.

1 minute blind potraits.

Scenes from a post-apocolyptic potato glean. Conventional farming, look at the destruction you have wrought.

And contrast that with our mondo squash harvest. No destruction, just some sweet skillful tractor driving.

Happy farmers with beautiful squash set to cure!

A Nick's eye view of the farm, with Momo the cat.

The couple who mows together stays together. <3

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the fold, bransford, united kingdom (part one)

Our first three weeks at The Fold were so soulful and enlightening that when our main vineyard for the harvest in Tuscany cancelled, we decided to extend our time here in the UK.

In the first few weeks of our time here, we explored mythology, the ethics of yoga, and male initiation rituals. We read extensively about natural building (especially cob and straw bale) and got inspired to start designing our own hand built home. We experienced biodynamic cranio-sacral therapy and stirred by hand the biodynamic agriculture 500 preparation, designed to encourage movement toward the damp, dark, slimy, and moist energies. We made lots of compost and compost tea from nettles and comfrey, whose deep roots bring the minerals from the subsoil into the topsoil. We observed the ancient British tradition of Hat Friday and held the space at council. We heard legends of folk and folk remixed at Spookyfest. We skinny dipped in the River Teme and were stung by countless nettles while weeding and walking. We woke unceremoniously to the first light of the sun in our loft bedroom and sang to the robins. We ate the fruits of our labor and drank local British bubbly. In other words, it was great. 

That’s not to say we haven’t been working hard, smelly, and physical. But as Nick so eloquently put it, “I guess it’s better to smell like compost than to be covered in chemicals.“

crowdsourced haiku

a pair of plums plucked perfect, firm yet sweet, before yellowjackets’ theft

council

each word is a raindrop, sending shocks as it plops into this small puddle, exposing grooves in grains of wood beneath, then the flood returns

Setting up the new farm shop with Julien, Joris, and Lucy. They say if you meet a farmer you should give her all your money. Or just a beer.

So fresh and so clean clean. 

It was a monsoon and we forgot our rain jackets in the upper garden.

Post-council Hat Friday shenanigans with our hosts, Will and Janne.

Tomatoes

Hat Friday!!!!

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london, united kingdom

By the time we got to London, we were ready to be in one place for a while. The constant moving from city to city was taking its toll, and we were stoked to rest and to get to the first farm. But first, the center of the universe (or so they think) to explore! And a visit with my sister, the other Nick, and her group of charming, clever friends. 

Nick enjoyed the architecture of London’s public buildings, while Jackie completed an art project that they dreamed up in the North. And we both had fun poking some fun at the monarchy. ‘Murca!

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This is the last time I'm traveling cattle class."

MANU supporter on route to the match

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Mind the gap when crossing from the train to the platform, because as Meghan Trainor says, every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top."

Rail conductor in Manchester

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Turn back now. After this, it's all bog, bog, more bog, sheep shit, sheep that are dying, sheep that are dead. And more bog.

Guy on the last day of the Pennine Way

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the dirty north: leeds and liverpool, united kingdom

We spent lots of time on the train in Leeds going back and forth between there and our accommodation in Bately. We developed this little ditty for the toilets in Leeds Central Train Station, the bane of our existence. Meant for singing.

It’s 40p to pee, oh It’s 40p to pee. Can someone please explain to me why It’s 40p to pee.

I think but am sorry to say That 30p goes to pay For fancy turnstile machines Instead of keeping the toilets clean! - J

The hostel at Liverpool had a slow cooker, so we took the opportunity to make scouse, a traditional Liverpudlian stew. We based our recipe on the Liverpool FC house scouse (yes, it’s a thing. So is Global Scouse Day. Check it out: http://www.liverpoolfc.com/news/latest-news/155827-lfc-reveals-world-s-best-scouse-recipe).

Our recipe is below if you want to try it yourself!

Ingredients: 2 small onions, diced 1 carrot, chopped in coins 700g chopped chuck steak Olive oil 1.2L beef stock or 2 rehydrated bouillon cubes plus water 5 potatos, sliced into small wedges 2 tsp herbal blend, like Italian seasoning or herbs de provence Salt and pepper to taste 1 tblsp hot sauce 1 beer or equal amount water (for those hostels that don’t allow outside booze ;)

Directions: Heat olive oil in a wide skillet on medium high heat. When hot, add chuck steak and brown evenly on all sides. Add all other ingredients to slow cooker and add meat and juice from skillet. Cook on high for about 6 hours or until potatoes are fully cooked. Serve with a crusty roll and pickled beet root! - J

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sedbergh, united kingdom

After leaving the Pennine Way in flames, we headed for two nights in Sedbergh, a little town between the Lake District and the Peak District. We were in no shape to tackle either park, so we spent a couple of days recuperating, learning from our airbnb hipster hosts about home renovation, and enjoying the rye bread from the artisan bakery in town.

I wrote this poem using only words from the street signs visible on the bus, experimenting with absurdism:

notes from a country road

17 brambles play sports under rose’s cottage. 39, 41, 40 ford drive carefully, carefully. country children give way for 7 plus 7 bakery offer.

main street lottery zone for sale.

carefully, carefully you are in a no access area. the foresters clear mass, sunday showhome art. - J

Photos from N:

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edinburgh, scotland

drying out

outside the window, rain pours down, dilutes the pastels of this colorful town but inside, the colors are bright and true, in here, my dear, with you.

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glencoe & fort william, scotland

it’s only right that we should be fighting here, where bloody foxglove pierces fleshy knee high ferns and bone white rocks and sheep protrude from the greenest grass these children of desert ever crayoned. this landscape is saturated with whiskey and violence, blood angels instead of trail angels for the west highland way. luckily, our only betrayal was that of the weather, rain as loud as gunshots on the tent. ben nevis the socialist collected the rain and doled it out in equal shares to each evening, so these soggy capitalists celebrated in the ruins of our own private castle for one night only.

Photos: 

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glasgow, scotland

Nick and i have been joking that the blog should be renamed “napping charter“ because the crazy schedules of wedding and flights so far have meant lots of naps, sometimes in unusual places while we wait to check in at our airbnb. Here are some of our favorite public napping spots so far where you can grab some quick zzzzs in the UK. We’ll update as we go along.

St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin: Anywhere by the pond, although bring a towel or large scarf and watch for goose poo.

Trinity College, Dublin: Supposedly the benches were not there when my sister went there, but they are surprisingly comfortable. The rugby green is also a good spot to lounge out.

Botanical Gardens, Glasgow: There is a nice grassy spot in the herb garden, where you can enjoy the smell of roses wafting in from the rose garden adjacent. Bonus: if the fickle Glasgow weather turns on you, escape beneath the covered arch in the rose garden.

From top to bottom, photos: Craig the Clachaig Skull, Mummy, Nessie the Plesiosaur, Change and Hope

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dublin & wexford, ireland

“Words are beautiful in whatever form they come, just like people.“ - Nick

when the seagulls wheel and wail above white stone walls and the pride flags wave in windows, you’ll know you’re in dublin. the weather reigns instead of the queen, sending wind to whip the hair of each happy bridesmaid and wielding raindrop plops onto seats of chairs from which some wise woman already removed the covers. she knows that while stones and plastic cups hold their water, brides and wexford clouds are less watertight. the best cures for weight are dance floor whirling and whiskey words.