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I am not a farmer... I am just a silly businessman who bought two struggling farms for all the wrong reasons! But, I am learning.
In 2007, following a military exercise on Salisbury Plain I accepted an invitation from a British Army General to join him for dinner at his Dorset home.
I immediately fell in love with the area. It was like stepping back in time without the aid of a TARDIS!
The General took me to a local pub. After a lovely meal, he introduced me to a local farmer, also named John who was sitting at the bar, looking very tired and emotional. I got chatting with Farmer John... He told me that he was struggling to cope with his workload and wanted to retire. But, his wife loved farm life so much that he felt he could never leave the farm, even though they were struggling to make ends meet.
Farmer John was quite intelligent even in his inebriated state, and had calculated that he needed to work 27 hours a day in order to bring the harvest in before the rain that was forecast. I volunteered to help.
The next day I had to go to Dorchester to buy some clothes (I only had an overnight bag). I then drove to the farm. To cut a very long story short, I ended up staying on the farm for three weeks.
I had been there a few days before I had the chance to talk to the farmer's wife on her own. She wanted to get away from the farm, but thought that husband John loved the farming life so much that he would never leave.
Husband and wife both wanted to leave the farm, but thought their partner didn't! This gave me a headache!
Ignoring my business and financial advisors, I made an offer to buy the mainly arable farm.
Both Farmer John and wife Barbara were a bit surprised at my offer... but, it forced them to talk honestly to each other, and they agreed to the deal in principal. In exchange for a reduction on the purchase price of the farm, I bought them a new luxury apartment on the outskirts of Dorchester... and they still live there today.
Ten years later in 2018... The neighbouring dairy farmer told me that he was selling up. They only had 67 cows, and they were all nearing the end of their productive life. All of the cow sheds needed renovating, or replacing. BUT on the plus side... the dairy farm had a huge amount of unused land, and also had a terrace of eight cottages (which also needed renovating.)
My mother had recently passed away... and she loved cows. I had to make an offer on the dairy farm (on my mother's behalf), or risk the site being sold to property developers. (MY financial advisor shook his head in disbelief... again!)
It cost me a fortune to renovate the dairy, and the cottages. But the extra land has allowed us to increase our crop production.
Both farms are now returning profit... albeit small.
Our dairy herd has increased from 67 to 327. The anaerobic digestor makes both farms self-sufficient for electricity, and we are constantly working with researchers and universities to develop new ideas.
2026 Update.
Above is a brief explanation of how I became the owner of two Dorset farms.
My business and financial advisors shook their heads in disbelief when I purchased the farms... but, it has proved to be a good (or perhaps lucky) business decision.
Both farms are now running at a small profit... although it is unlikely that I will ever recoup my investment money. But the farm also gives me a quiet countryside refuge.
Now I have sold my main London based business I have invested more money in the farms... and am now going ahead with a plan to build a function suite on unused land close to the dairy.
This will be hired out as a wedding/business conference venue... as well as being used to host charity fund-raising events. Planning permission has been granted, and building work should commence in June.
When building work on the function suite is completed, it is likely that Marcus, my Head of Household Staff in Kent will move to Dorset and manage the venue. I may also move to the farm on a permanent basis... although I do not want to give up the strange/haunted house in Kent which has been my main home since 1982.
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