The asparagus field equalled adventure

In these strange times, word-of-mouth tips from fellow travellers are the way to go, says Anna Hart

Have you heard about the asparagus field? During the first lockdown, last spring, simply knowing about the asparagus field near Margate was tantamount to bragging about befriending the doorman at Berghain, Berlin’s most notoriously inaccessible nightclub. As local lore had it, an asparagus farm that normally supplied London restaurants had generously invited locals to come and pick their own asparagus for free, rather than harvesting a crop that wouldn’t sell. It was a sorry story for Kentish farmers, but spectacularly thrilling news for local residents. It was our very own Whisky Galore! moment, but these days we all get more excited by locally grown artisan produce than booze.

This hot tip meant so much more to our little seaside community than a few green shoots, of course. The asparagus farm presented a mission, an adventure, a free activity, a Covid-compliant social excursion, a reason to get out of bed. After confirming from various sources that the free asparagus field was not some sort of hipster mirage, or a malicious rumour, we armed ourselves with a rudimentary, time-worn scrap of a map and set off on our bikes. (OK, the treasure map was a dropped pin on my iPhone’s Google Maps app, but finding a field among other fields is not easy for a former city-dwelling millennial like me.) Our expedition was a resounding success, and we returned, four hours later, with backpacks full of asparagus to give to friends around town, leaving bundles on windowsills, in letterboxes, and other “drops”, as the espionage term has it. We felt like victorious Himalayan explorers, and I triumphantly texted friends to confirm the existence of this field of green gold. Last January, as I prepared to set off on a four-month trip across the United States by rail, covering music festivals and writing a book based on the experience, I never dreamt that, mere weeks later, an asparagus field up the road would feel like an intrepid adventure. I’d hoped for a Jack Kerouac-grade trip, or a modern-day music-oriented Odyssey, but it turned out I’d have to settle for a particularly mild Enid Blyton chapter.

This current lockdown is a grimmer and wintrier affair, but this means local tips have an even higher currency. My friend Kitty, an NHS worker, informs me that Leytonstone is abuzz with delight about a newly parked-up food truck selling fried chicken wings. Another friend in Glasgow discovered a secluded and blessedly rain-sheltered bench in her local park – following a tip-off by a fellow jogger – and this precious stretching sanctuary became the highlight of her January. During lockdown, we

inevitably dive deeper into our immediate surroundings, and this means local knowledge is a precious commodity.

In coming months, as we start to venture a bit further than local park benches and cafés (imagine!), I predict no decline in the value of word-of-mouth tips. The internet is a worldwide web of lies; plenty of small businesses and attractions have plainly given up on updating their websites and opening hours in the wake of countless closures and reopenings. We’ve all shown up at plenty of locked gates and shuttered shop fronts, despite Google’s infallible confidence that they opened at 8am. I’ve had my heart broken quite enough. I’m jaded, and I’m now only interested in places that come recommended by helpful locals, trusted tourism professionals or fellow travellers freshly returned from a successful reconnaissance mission.

Telegraph Travel readers have generously written in or emailed me with useful local recommendations, truly precious at a time when pleasure and adventure is so tightly rationed. And although it will be nice to be able to trust the internet again, part of me is perfectly happy with returning to this quaint “scrapbook” approach to travelling, much like I did as a teenage backpacker, scribbling in the margins of my Lonely Planet Guide to Eastern Europe. We’ll also value the vast local knowledge and logistical prowess of old-school travel agents and tour companies that can help us navigate red tape, restrictions and requirements. And perhaps this all means we’ll be pointed in more interesting directions than the ones we’d have set off on ourselves. Right now, I am all ears, eagerly accepting tips and recommendations for places that will reliably delight even in 2021. Remember, there’s only an asparagus field to beat…

Bearing fruit: local knowledge is a valuable commodity right now