Wednesday, 17 June 2009


Those of you who have followed our blog from the start will be aware that we occasionally wander into a farmyard near Glastonbury to collect gurt big lumps of cheese for the lord of our land-this farm having a dairy within it. In a barn opposite the dairy lives a bull-the biggest bull you are ever likely to see in your life. One of us is six foot tall and the bull stands higher. It is, not to mince words, bloody enormous and (given the reputation that bulls enjoy) we have only stoppped to look at it from the safety of the car. Clutch down, in gear, foot hovering over the accelerator, ready for a speedy escape in the event of the bull taking exception to our stares and treating us as some kind of china shop.

Until today. Today whilst collecting the cheese we asked the dairyman about the bull (typical silly non-farming-folk questions like 'how much does it weigh' and 'why doesn't it have a ring through its nose') and discovered that it has been at the farm for a long time and is as gentle as a lamb. We put this last to the test on our way out and discovered it to be true, putting aside all of our fears about bulls we went and made friends with it. Close up it oozed an aura of gentle calm, it clearly wouldn't harm a fly (unless the fly was out for trouble in the first place, and even then the bull would turn the other cheek and only retaliate if the fly became murderous. This would then become a case of self-defence and no Court in the land would find the bull guilty) As you may be aware, one of the Mudhoppers New Year Resolutions was to be less afraid of bulls and the fickle finger of fate has led us to making close acquaintance with a veritable Goliath of its species.

But the best bit of information about this magnificant beastie is his name-the last question we asked the dairyman, almost as an afterthought;

Mudhoppers - Does the bull have a name?

Dairyman - Yes, but it's a stupid name for a bull. I don't know why, but his name is Alan!