I nearly got a job at a market garden supplying veg and microgreens to one of the swanky restaurants in Cartmel. The growers seemed nice but I later heard terrible things about the work culture at the restaurant which, at least a few years prior, poisoned the atmosphere leading to long work hours, stress over not knowing whether the produce would meet their standards, and horrible interactions with the chef and staff. Possible that things had changed with a new head grower, but still feel that I dodged a bullet. The countryside was pretty stunning, but walking through the village felt very strange, stifling, like you were walking through a model and liable to get shouted at any second for putting your feet in the wrong place. And I'm university-educated middle class (in recovery), so can well imagine the angst felt by the author's mother.
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