Episode 3 A Pembrokeshire Farm

Summer is a busy time for farmers.

And it's not bad for builders either.

We're restoring this Pembrokeshire farmhouse to its former glory.

It was built around 1840,

although its been extended over the years.

It was in a fairly bad state when I bought it,

and some parts were in serious need of some restoration.

In last week's programme, we conceded defeat

over the historic, but rather leaky old roof.

We decided to demolish it and replace the whole thing,

which we hadn't bargained for.

Initially, we planned to get the house finished in 12 months,

but the roof has already put us badly behind schedule.

We're five months into the job already.

Who could not...

..hope to be impressed

by such a roof? Just look at it.

It's the sort of Sistine Chapel of farmhouse roofs there.

When it was originally constructed, they're using the same process now,

the great commodity that was available to them was labour.

There were no machines, so everything was hand cut.

This is what we're reproducing here.

Those beautiful chestnut laths there which have to be split carefully.

As a result they have that organic look.

Each tile is hand shaped and cut,

so that they diminish and fit in. It's an extraordinary skill,

which is taking quite a long time to achieve, so I'm told.

It seems to sort of, still be moving fairly slowly.

And apart from that,

it's open to question whether we're going to cover it

with a layer of cement.

The debate on whether it's right or not is still ongoing.

I can't believe that when farmers were building their houses,

that they would put slate on there and then cover them in lime,

or even point them up with lime.

I just can't see why people would do that.

For one, the expense. And two, why do it on a brand new material?

Even if the slate was that bad, it should last 25 - 30 years.

So I think we've jumped on 50 or 60 years,

by putting lime in the joint straight away.

Originally, I think it would have been just slate.

Once the slate or pegs started to slide, or slip,

then a lime mortar would be pointed in.

In another 50 or 60 years time,

the lime would be poured over the top as a seal.

I think that's the process.

It's been a constant test trying to work with lots of wobbly lines,

all trying to turn into something lovely like that. It is working.

We're coming up with some beautiful results.

Ah, a good slab.

There's been water coming down the chimney for years.

There's lots going on in the house.

Rainy days mean we've been working indoors.

We got a lot of preparation done indoors.

I brought in some extra stone workers

to work on the outbuilding and extension.

So lots of changes.

I'm at the loft now, aren't I?

What you realise is that this is going to be quite tight.

It's going to be quite snug.

It's an amazing thing to see it made of stone.

It's a bit of a jumble, isn't it?

There is a method to it. You have the two outside skins.

The internal part is infilled with loose stone.

You use the minimum amount of mortar in there.

That stops the moisture tracking straight through.

If you built it solidly, the moisture from the rain outside

could pull through to the inside.

The system you're using is the same as stonebuilders have used...

..for a thousand years.

Yeah. Yes, it is. Yes, we work on places, sometimes they use soil,

you know, as the mortar.

Those places have lasted hundreds of years.

There's nothing modern that can improve this process?

No, nothing modern suits this.

It's the right material for the job, and that's it.

-You don't think it'll leak?

-No, guaranteed, it won't leak.

Guaranteed it won't leak. Good.

That's on film by the way, as well.

You'll cut that bit out, I'm sure.

One building on the farm that fascinates me is the mill.

It was used to grind cattle feed. When the farm became mechanised,

the mill wheel and all the internal workings were removed

and the building was used as a simple storage shed.

I wonder if it could be restored.

I'm not thinking about cattle feed or bread though,

just my electricity bill.

I could use it to generate power for the house or something.

Peter George, who farms on my land, has taken some time off

to bring me up to his in-laws' farm, where he has a surprise for me.

That's it!

They are the original millstones from Trehilyn.

It clearly weighs a few ton. Look at that.

Peter, the obvious question is why did they come to be up here?

I'm not sure.

Whether it was part payment for something or other, I'm not sure.

Can I buy these off you? I don't know how I'd ever get them down.

Would they be for sale, these two big things?

Well, yes. That's where they rightfully belong.

Goodness knows what I'm going to do with them.

I'm not going to start grinding cattle feed.

It's just a question of completeness.

But I think there might be more to it than just the stones.

100 years ago, virtually every farm in this area

would have had its own mill.

Now, there's only one left,

which belongs to my neighbour, John Harries.

His father restored it in the 1980s as a hobby,

although sadly, it has now fallen into disuse all over again.

-Look at this. Now.

-This is the inside of the mill.

-That's the complete machinery.

-It's all there, yes.

The big cog there takes the drive from the water wheel itself.

-And the actual milling is done on a first floor.

-Yes.

-And these are the housings for the millstones.

-Yes.

The grain is fed down into the centre of the stone,

and that feeds it out and carries it around the box

until it goes down the chute.

It's as ingenious as a combine harvester or something like that.

It was in its time.

But built specifically for this area.

For the surrounding farms, yes.

It had to be custom made to fit the way the river went,

and the barn and where it could be fitted in and so on.

A huge amount of investment in order to make it work.

It's like Little John and Robin Hood, this!

Here's the wheel.

It's well overgrown.

And there's the pit and the leat, high, coming right across the top,

with enough gravity to push the wheel round.

But not much water.

I imagined the leat would be a great big stream pushing through.

One paddle overflows into the next

until there's enough there to get it going.

Then there's a fast turn or two, and then it slows down

-and the momentum...

-Keeps it chugging along.

-Yes.

It's interesting to see, but I'm not sure.

It's a very complex thing to build, isn't it?

And a very complex thing to maintain.

And a highly involving hobby, I'm sure.

if you're prepared to put it in.

But it's not really going to give you much power

to run even a fridge freezer, I shouldn't think.

Back at my place, Nathan the carpenter has a cunning plan

for restoring the rotten floor joists.

I'm using a decorated floor joist. I don't want to take them all out.

I want to try and keep them, if we can.

Basically, you've got to reinforce them with steel bars and a resin.

There's not a great deal you have to lose off the timber

before you're back into good solid stuff.

This way, you can actually hide the steel inside the timber,

so nobody knows it's there. All you see is a new piece of timber

joining an old piece of timber on a straight joint.

It's totally hidden, which is an advantage

to having a steel plate on the side of it.

Downstairs in the entrance hall, we have more problems with the floor.

These terracotta tiles are bigger than a standard quarry tile.

They're more chunky.

But it was still bumpy nevertheless and we discovered why.

The answer is underneath these tiles.

It's a tree root that's pushing everything up.

Look at that. Can we look at that?

Look, not only that, it's a tree root that's sprouting.

It's sprouting.

In London now, they're actually cutting down huge sways of trees,

because insurance companies are refusing to back paying insurance.

So London is in danger of losing trees.

But what can we do? I don't approve of cutting down trees.

This is coming from an elm tree.

We need to find out what's the best way to go about dealing with this.

That's not just like a threat.

That's like the Rocky Horror Show coming up!

All of the buildings on the farm are made from stone,

which would have been found lying around in the fields

and was probably the only material to hand.

But even so, what strikes me is that even the most rudimentary sheds

were built with a sense of permanence.

The confidence of the builders was supreme.

I think these buildings are like our pyramids,

because when this building...

This is only the outhouse of the farmhouse. It's nothing special.

The other farm yard buildings were similarly put together,

but the physical capability that has to go into making this

and the planning that went into it, quite carefully done,

is something that said that we're optimistic about the future.

We're putting down these buildings

because they have a relationship to the work that's done here

and they're going to be something fairly permanent.

This is an enormous piece of stone.

Just lifting one of these stones and building these walls

required an enormous amount of care and attention.

By contrast, this building, which was built in the 1960s.

There are many modern buildings, agricultural buildings,

which are a good deal better than this one.

But it tells us the difference.

This building was built as an expediency.

It has no permanency or sense of the future. It's just for now.

It will do.

And that's why these old buildings need preserving.

Coming from Essex, where the stuff is as rare as a pair of flat shoes,

stone fascinates me.

Here we are, Sid. Does this look like local rock to you?

I think they're all local rock types.

-You've got your rhiolites up there.

-That's very hard, is it, rhiolite?

I's harder than hardened steel. I'll demonstrate that with my hammer.

You take the hammer and you...

..rub across the edge like that and you get down to fresh steel.

That means that the rhiolite

is harder than the hardened steel of this geologists hammer.

This shows my ignorance.

I assumed when I saw these flat edges to these rocks

that they'd probably been cut to be like that.

But that's not necessarily true.

Those will be the cooling contraction joints.

Those are the fractures that form

when the rocks cooled and contracted.

So you do get quite regular patterns produced by that process.

So the people building this wall

were looking for naturally shaped pieces of rock.

They'd say, "Here's a piece with a good flat surface. We'll use that."

-That's coming from the natural process that created this rock.

-Yes.

Sid and I are going to explore the local geology up on the Garn.

Back at the house, Dan has uncovered a lovely original window.

It's one of many that will need repairing or replacing.

Our hearts are in old buildings.

We want to do a proper job that will stand the test of time.

You go to an antiques shop, buy a grandfather clock.

You put it in your hallway, it's your pride and joy.

You're not buying that grandfather clock, you're a custodian of it.

It's your duty to give it that care for the next generation.

So that old cottage, it doesn't have to be big,

but those little features, like the horsehair in the plaster,

you try and keep as much of that as you can.

Because it's a breathing, living thing, in a romantic way,

and it can carry on going along.

Just as I see now, where a carpenter 300 years ago

did his bit with an axe, I leave my own mark.

So I know someone like myself in 300 years will see them and think,

"I'm the first guy to touch these since that carpenter made them."

That's what fires you up and keeps you going.

The landscape was worked by the sea.

The sea level was much higher than the land.

The places where we're sitting would have been islands

sticking out of that very ancient sea.

More recently, glaciers were coming out of the mountains in Scotland,

the Lake District, Snowdonia,

and were feeding down into the Irish Sea.

As the ice melted, stones were scattered around,

which would have been cleared to create this pattern of the fields.

What sort of time was that?

The Ice Age. Two-million years ago until ten-thousand years ago.

So it's pretty recent.

These blocks were too big to shift when they made the coast path.

And what are these?

This is an example of the dolerite.

This is the famous blue stone.

It's not the famous blue stone,

but it is the dolerite in your buildings.

-When was this formed?

-470 million years ago.

Roughly where the Antarctic peninsula is today.

-Really?

-I'll show you on the map.

It's made its way here just by the earth's crust moving around?

The movements of the plates that make up the earth's crust.

If you want to remove this, you could lever these out

and you would end up with God's building blocks?

You'd need to get several crowbars in there,

lever it out into the path here

and then the problem would be getting it up the hill.

-It's heavy stuff?

-Yes.

About a metre cube of that will weigh 2.7 tonnes.

A metre cube? That's only...

It's about the size of this block here.

Goodness. It's a good stuff to make houses out of.

Your houses will resist things being smashed into them.

Just as well.

Colin is still clearing away the rubbish around the farm

and this seems to be taking forever.

-What have you discovered?

-More farm machinery.

We've found a lot more plastic.

It can all go for recycling.

At least one Morris Minor type car.

-A car?

-Yes.

-At least one?

-Yes.

Not many more skips. Probably another five skips, at the most.

And then we'll do a tour of the place and see what we can find,

-just check we've cleared it all up.

-Yes.

There could be as many as 50 million waste tyres on UK farms.

I think we've got about 25 million of them here.

That's not going to look good on camera!

Now this is what I really want to see,

something going back, instead of being scrapped.

This is one of the windows going in the front elevation of the house.

It's a box sash.

All we've done at the moment is put a coat of undercoat on it.

I believe it's linseed oil based.

We have to put these inside, as usual.

And then the boxes, inside.

And this is one of the sashes, which is going in there.

They've tried their best to match the mould

on the new, exactly the same as the old.

And the actual shape of the horns as well on the end, to match.

This one is another new window.

It's a casement, which is going in the tin extension.

We haven't matched anything with these. These are an old design.

Just on the edge, we've added a water groove.

The only reason we've done that is you can use up to date methods

which are better methods than the old windows.

The water used to come in,

but now if you can upgrade a window to stop the water coming in,

I don't see a problem, as long as the design is the same.

We've found a solution to the tree roots growing under the house,

but it requires drastic action.

We'd recommend they were dismantled, or reduced in size.

I would imagine these, further along the wall, could stay,

but I think this one should be dealt with,

so the branches don't encroach on the house and cause damage.

-Is that elm useful for anything?

-It is very useful.

-Furniture, perhaps.

-It does have that potential. Indeed it does.

At last, the roof is finished.

And though it's put us way behind schedule,

I think it's worth it 'cause it looks great.

But not all traditional coverings are 470 million years old.

We've decided to use another material

for finishing the extension.

It's hardy, pliable and in its own way as traditional as lime render.

Corrugated iron.

Timber's quite a controversial material on these old buildings

because the only reason it was used was to go over the thatch

to stop the roof leaking.

After the thatch had gone, it would give it an extra 5-10 years

before you had to re-do the whole lot.

When people come and stay here, I think it will give a nice effect

with the rain sort of hitting the tin roof and the wind rattling.

It's going to be quite an experience.

This is a selection of slates, the best of what came off the roof.

Me and the guys had a bit of an argument

because I couldn't bear to throw them away.

They argued that we'd end up triple handling them

and that they'd end up in a ditch,

I gave in and said, "OK, we'll get rid of them."

And then once the guys actually got up on the roof with me,

they said, "No, we can't throw these away!"

So we saved them and maybe they'll have another lifespan.

I hope they get used.

And the worst, which are already broken,

are being crushed and recycled to build up the driveway.

Inside the house, Dan has made contact

with one of the previous residents.

We found this little creature. He's looking a bit ill!

I think Sean's found something even more gross.

This one.

He's a beaut!

Yes, I wonder what else is lurking behind this blocked up fireplace.

I'm going to have a look at this.

It's been left to me to go and cut the ribbon on this.

I've got to go and knock a hole in here.

Or not, as the case may be!

I think this has been extremely well made.

I think it will have to be left as it is.

Luckily, Martin has a more robust approach to his restoration work.

Let me have a look, Martin.

There's a range in there.

Half a roasted pig!

-Do I get the curse if I go into this?

-Too late!

You're the first person to look into the hole. Is it an open chimney?

Um... Yes, it is.

And there it is - a complete original range.

You could take the range out.

The range can stay. It's beautiful, isn't it?

You can probably... Oh, look at that.

-They've filled it in with cement.

-What on earth is that about?

There's enough there to reinstate the original kitchen range.

And talking about putting things back,

Peter has arrived with the millstones,

which prove to be as heavy as they look.

One, two, three!

Whoa!

There are lots of little jobs going on

that are insignificant in themselves,

but very satisfying overall.

This is a pretty hideous thing.

It's been blocking the view of the farmhouse since we've been here.

Greg rather likes it. It's a pre-fabricated concrete building,

something in which he has a particular interest.

He isn't prepared to take it away.

And it's more difficult to dismantle than it was to put it up.

It was probably put up in a day,

so it's probably time to take it down in a... Well, we shall see.

There we are - much better!

Winter comes to Pembrokeshire.

But for farmers like Peter George, the hard work never stops.

There'll be no let up for the builders at the farmhouse either.

And my own work is now going to take me away for a few months.

But I leave at a happy stage

because when I come back to the house, it'll be nearly finished.

At least, that's the plan.

This seems to have slowed down quite considerably.

You're almost as pessimistic as me!

I'm getting more pessimistic by the hour.

Next week, first fit second hand tiles and final deadlines.

I can't imagine we'll be finished in six weeks' time.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd