The Violence of the Lambs

This isn't so much a trip I went on, or a place I saw - it's more of a silly incident that took place during my 5-day trip to see the Gower Peninsula, in Wales, in April 2024.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, I love staying in B&Bs: they're warm, friendly, cosy, and you get a level of one-to-one attention/service that's absent in large hotels.
That's just my opinion, anyway.

For this particular trip, I decided to stay at Brynawel Farm.
If you're ever headed towards the Gower Peninsula, I highly recommend it.

Christine runs the place and has a little border terrier, called Doris, who's very friendly.

Now the thing is, there's quite a large driveway leading up to the B&B, and a decent sized garden: a large pond, and a wide expanse of lawn - about the size of a good pub garden.

On my first full morning there, I'd decided to visit The Mumbles, Oxwich Bay, and Langland Bay - all beaches around the peninsula

So after a slow, leisurely breakfast, I set off.

I hopped in my car, put some tunes on, and cheerily headed towards the large, wooden gate that would let me out.

I got as close to the gate as possible without blocking it...because I now needed to get out, undo the bolt that held it in place, and pull it inwards, towards me.

As I walked up to it, I spotted some adult sheep and a whole bunch of lambs busily heading away from the gate, towards some fields.
They were heading in the opposite direction from me, so I thought nothing of it.

I pulled the gate inwards/open and walked back to my car, turning my back on the sheep.

Fatal error.

When I got to car and turned around, sheep and lambs were pouring in through the gate - a cascade of woolly madness.

There was nothing I could do to stop the tide.
It was - pun intended - a ram raid.

They headed straight onto the open lawn.
That's what they were after - fresh, untouched grass to nibble on.

I panicked and ran back into the house, calling for Christine.

She appeared and said 'What's happened?' so I explained.

'Oh, they're a bloody nuisance at this time of year - here, help me get rid of them'.

Help her get rid of them?
I'm from London.
I've lived in Enfield and Barnet for most of my life.
I have as much experience herding sheep as I do flying helicopters.

But Christine ran at them, from the right-hand side - encouraging me to run at the from the left-hand side.

I didn't have a clue what I was doing, but they started to do what sheep are known for - panicking and blindly following the actions of those in front of them.

By flapping our arms and coming at them from either side, we sort of funnelled them out.

But strays were everywhere.

The lambs wanted to frolic.
They were having a great time.

So myself and Christine had to chase individual lambs round in circles, until - breathless - we got the last one out...and shut the gate.

She then told me - in good humour - to make sure the sheep were well away from the gate the next time I looked to open it.

I waited a bit longer, then set off again.

It was on this trip that I decided to no longer eat lamb.

Apart from finding those runaways cute, I also emergency braked when a few others ran into another road - nearly swerving into a hedge.
I figured that if I'm willing to risk my safety for them, I should probably feel guilty about eating them.

Now I just need to feel that same guilt about cows and chickens.