I made the transition of full-time city life to a real downshift to the country side.

That day, I entered a big gate into another world, a world of ecological farming and cute animals. No more laziness, soft beds and clubbing, but hard work, a thin mattress on the floor and waking up by the cock declaring the day. (although the he was kind of retard)

The first days, the weather was bad. It was raining all the time and the surface was filled with clouds lacking the will to fly. The fog was this thick and the humidity was beyond.
I kept telling to myself: “please, let it be colder, don’t let the sun shine, I have way too hot clothes for this.” However, the sun shone brighter than ever, I was sweating my pants off and realized how i’d forgotten how good the beams of light felt on my skin.

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I was working up to twelve hours a day, because my body was happy to be outdoors and get in shape again.
Soon, they took advantage of that, but I did not complain.

The farmer was a fantastic man. He looked at life in such a positive way, that his vision for this farm took form in a short period of two years. It was a beautiful place.
One day, he explained me how to fertilize a field of trees. When he saw the despair in my eyes, he paused and said: “Don’t forget to do it slow, enjoy the process and above all, enjoy yourself.”
I loved this guy.
I tuned into my own world and made DJ-Shuffle decide with what to spoil my ears. He was doing a great job and while I was singing and dancing, pretending that the shovel was my micro, the hours passed in no time.
There is no such thing as coincidence, but after finishing my performance of the Beatels’ “Strawberry Fields”, something seemed to drop on my boot. It was a small pot of strawberry jam... The lyrics of my own musical turned the pear trees into a delicate strawberry field. I put the pot in my pocket and happily continued singing the endless hard work away.

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I was the only volunteer on the farm, like always. However, there were two French arranging their working visa to stay on this workaway for one whole year. In this way, they needed to help the owners to create a more western way of eco farming and enrich them with new ideas.
Nevertheless, I never really understood how they managed to persuade the farmer to pay them to design fences and trash cans on a laptop. They soon used me to clean up their dirty work, and even though I was very frustrated about this, I tried to ignore their superiority complex and peddle on in the sea of my imagination.

In all my silence, I stayed annoyingly happy and finished all my tasks. I love hypodermic terror.

3 books and 17 days later, I put my first steps into the outside world again. The sun was shining bright and I needed to remember how to use money and order food.

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