We've been woken by all manner of birdsong over the last few weeks but this morning's chorus is the raucous grating of crows, hundreds of them cackling from branch to branch in the high satelite-proof trees.

Ali chats again with the English couple and learns their daughter went to the same East Brent Primary school Ali attended until she was 10. The also have friends who used to live in Falmouth. Small world.

As it is a bank holiday weekend here we expect the coast and towns to be busy so we head for the countryside, to a Passion we visited two years ago, Erdeven. The farm's name translates to 'The Clover Fields' We know that even if it's busy there, the field is enormous. We also know to ignore the satnav for the last half mile as this was where we and a French van followed each other round and round to find the field.

When we arrive, to our surprise, it's deserted. Better still, the FP sign points to a different field with beautiful unobstructed views all round.

In front of us a field of greeny-gold corn ripples with waves in the breeze. Beyond that is a field of multi-coloured steers and beyond them a tall wood. Around the edge of the field are tall stands of wild flowers, yellow and purple The only sounds are skylarks, the cattle lowing and the whisper of the wind in the corn. And the occasional braying of a donkey. Where else could we possibly want to be right now?

After a few busy days it is perfect for sitting and relaxing with no need to do anything other than enjoy perfect countryside at its best.

Late afternoon there is the patter of hooves as the milking herd of 50 cows is driven down the lane beside us.

A Dutch couple arrive and Ali goes with them to the shop which, earlier we'd seen a sign 'open at 17:00' but the woman with the cows says that being Sunday it won't open.

The cows are in the pens being cleaned before milking, with a system of atomising sprayers looking like they are being steam cleaned. We noticed yesterday how perfectly clean the cattle were there as well. Perhaps they're getting ready for a vacheion parade...

Later two more vans arrive but there is plenty of space, the milk herd goes back along the lane and the breeze eases to still the corn.

As we are having supper of some of the cheeses we've bought recently, the donkey appears next to the van, apparently thinking we have better grass but it's not long before the owner arrives and puts him back in his own field.

The sun sets, a bright quarter moon rises and we are soon asleep.