When I moved here in 2012, it was a delight to be surrounded by countryside after a life in central London. Just across the road at the end of the street was a large open-style pig farm, with the pigs living in little huts spread around huge fields. At the other end of the road were farms growing Oil Seed Rape, and other crops. We soon got used to being held up behind tractors, and combine harvesters in season.
One thing we didn’t really get used to was the smell of fertiliser, when the weather was warm, and the wind in a certain direction. As it seemed to originate close to the nearby town of Dereham to the south of Beetley, we nicknamed this ‘The Dereham Pong’. Presuming it was conventional manure, and obviously the chance that it was commercial fertiliser instead, it became something to tolerate for a while, as the recently harvested fields were fertilised and turned over ready for the next sowing season. Not being country people, we often found it all quite amusing, as we had to quickly close the windows when it got really ‘bad’.
Imagine our surpise when the farm-worker husband of one of Julie’s work colleagues told us it was human waste being spread on the fields.
It even had a name, ‘Humanure’.
Small wonder the smell is so bad.