B · READING
From city trader to sheep farmer
"The silence was the hardest part"
Three years ago, Ingrid Solberg used to get up at 5.15 a.m., take the 6.02 train into the City, and spend eleven hours watching numbers move on six screens. She still gets up at 5.15. But now the numbers are sheep, and there are three hundred and forty of them.
"People assume the early start was the problem," she says, pouring coffee in a farmhouse kitchen in mid-Wales. "It wasn't. I'm used to getting up early — I always have been. What I couldn't get used to, at first, was the silence. In London I used to live above a bar. I would fall asleep to people shouting at taxis. Here, the first month, I lay awake every night because there was nothing to hear. I'm used to it now. Now I can't sleep in cities."
The physical work was another shock. "In my old job I didn't use to lift anything heavier than a laptop. The first lambing season nearly killed me.
I wasn't used to being outside for fourteen hours, I wasn't used to mud, and I definitely wasn't used to putting my arm inside a sheep." She laughs. "You get used to it. Honestly. Everything becomes normal if you do it enough."
Some habits have been harder to shift. "I used to check my phone about two hundred times a day. I would wake up and look at the markets before I'd even opened both eyes. I still reach for it. There's no signal in half the fields, which is probably the only reason I've got used to not looking."
Money is the last thing. "I used to earn in a month what I now make in a year, and I'm still not used to that. I'm getting used to it — slowly. I used to think a 40-pound bottle of wine was cheap. Now I think a 40-pound pair of boots is an investment." Does she regret it? "Ask me in February, when it's minus four and a ewe is giving birth in a ditch. But no. I used to be very good at a job I hated. Now I'm quite bad at a job I love. I'll take that."