Do you know what a carrot seed looks like? Its size, shape and colour? Well, it's about as big as an ant, if not smaller, and yet from this mere spec a great, vibrant vegetable comes to life. Once nestled into the ground, watered regularly and well tended to, a green shoot appears. This grows with further care into the famed orange vegetable; said to aid ones night vision, a delicious accompaniment with Humus and a key ingredient to carrot and coriander soup. To realize that something so useful originates from something so insignificant truly ignites the sense that there is someone greater than ourselves at work in this world.

Svetlana was displeased to see me at 3.30am, rolling into the hostel with a cumbersome backpack and no money to pay my bill.I feared that my 'pod bed' was in actual fact an oven, where troublesome tourists could be easily disposed of. I was happy to escape the following day with Saule, who showed me around the city of Vilnius in Lithuania. It was very different to the Russia I had left behind; bizarre considering that just two hours down the road the border between the two countries lies. How can two places so close geographically be so far apart socially? My days with Saule were very active; we saw most, if not all of the attractions in the city, we took a night time canoe ride along the river, we visited the town of Trakai with its beautiful castle and surrounding lakes, we ate local cuisine: chocolate covered cheese and cold, vegetable soup and we drank wine in a cozy, converted church.

It is always strange to leave familiar faces behind and plunge yourself into a group of strangers. I was traveling from the comfort of friends for a different country, city and entirely new collection of personalities. My hostel was filled with Australians, all eager to share the stories of their journey thus far. I wandered around aimlessly before meeting my farm host, Linda. She took me to a name day celebration; occurring everyday of the year, with a different name celebrated each day. Basically, an excuse for a party! Together, our group picnic-ed on the shore of the river and went dancing in a new, incredibly retro bar. The following day we hitch-hiked to the farm: my home for a week and a half.

Linda showed me to my room; a small, quirky space attached to the greenhouse. From my window, I can see the lake, rows and rows of tomatoes and vast stretches of green. Storks nest on the top of telegraph poles, a beaver splashes around in the water and the perfect, blue sky spans the entire scene, not a cloud tainting it. Each morning we work in the garden, weather permitting. I've planted many seeds and harvested the produce from others; I have weeded, watered, pruned and picked. We eat what is grown here; endless selections of colourful fruits and vegetables, milk from the lady down the road, fish from the man on the beach and eggs from another local farmer. In thunderstorms, Linda and I escape to the sea to swim. The lake that follows is warm in comparison. We have cycled along bumpy tracks to reach quiet bays; we have ventured to larger towns to see potters and their handicraft, crazy secondhand stores and Linda's equally bizarre grandparents. Everything is slow and tranquil; there is no urgency or stress, just a constant peace in the air.

On Thursday, I intend to travel to Estonia for a few days respite. From there, I will head to Finland and another farm. This one is on an island, surrounded by sea with no running water, an organic closet, a sauna and a sailing boat to collect post and essentials from the mainland. I am hoping that I will become less appealing to mosquitoes and the other bugs that have consumed most of my skin. I fear that, by the time I return to England, I will have no flesh remaining!

The morning cloud is clearing now, so I will go for another swim. Linda's mum has arranged some freshly picked flowers around the house while Linda's granny cleans the mushrooms her dad found in the woods this morning. I'm in a fairytale! Will it all end happily ever after?

I think so.