The story behind the documentary
We arrive in Greystones and are greeted by two identical men. It takes a moment to adjust: who is who? But David Flynn and Stephen Flynn are used to being mistaken for one another. Their energy is immediate, open, and infectious.
They are the faces behind The Happy Pear, Irish twin brothers you have likely already come across online, where they have built a global audience around food, health, and living well.
What began in 2004 as a small fruit and vegetable shop in Greystones has grown into a well known Irish brand, with a café, bakery, cookbooks, online courses, and a large community. Their mission has stayed the same: to help people live healthier, happier lives through more plant based food.
Behind the public image lies something more grounded. On their regenerative farm just outside Greystones, they work across roughly four hectares using organic and regenerative principles, with a strong focus on soil health, biodiversity, and local food production. The harvest from the land feeds directly back into their café and food boxes, closing the loop between soil and plate.
Like the farmers we met earlier, everything here begins with soil health. And like them, the reality on the ground is not always straightforward: the sense that change is needed, within systems that are not always built for it. Still, the energy David and Stephen bring never seems to fade.
Their work sits somewhere between idealism and everyday reality, driven by a simple belief that change starts with action. And that feeling stays with us as we leave Greystones behind.
As the story unfolds, it becomes clear these are not isolated encounters. They are threads in a larger fabric, a search that keeps drawing us towards people who, in their own way, are asking the same question: how do you build something that holds together in a system that does not always move with you?
That question carries us on, from the Irish coast towards England. To the Chew Valley, where we meet Luke Hasell again, returning to where part of this story first began.
Where everything comes together
From Ireland we head towards the Netherlands, but on the way we stop to see Luke. It is a warm reunion. We take the opportunity to sit down with him properly and talk in more depth about his background, his personality and what drew him into farming. His father was a farmer, and although Luke never originally intended to follow in his footsteps, he eventually took over the farm after his father passed away.
The family farm focuses on meat production. Alongside that, he runs a community farm for crops, and a restaurant concept in Bristol called ROOT, where vegetables take centre stage and simplicity and flavour are at the heart of everything.
We are actually on our way to the opening of his new site in Bristol, but as so often happens in documentary filmmaking, reality has other plans: the schedule shifts by a few days. What we are left with is something different, but just as valuable. We film the restaurant while it is still under construction, in that raw, in-between stage before anything is finished.
Luke also runs Valley Fest in the Chew Valley, a festival where music, food and community come together, bringing his vision of farming and food directly to people. On part of his land, he has also developed a unique campsite with unusual accommodation, not just to let people eat from the land, but to actually spend time on it and experience it.
What stands out is not just the scale or variety of what he does, but the energy behind it. Luke works relentlessly, yet remains open and approachable throughout, including towards us as filmmakers. It feels like some people simply give everything they have without holding back. And at the same time, an uncomfortable thought lingers: that these are often the very people working hardest for a fairer and healthier food system, while operating within a reality that offers limited space and little security.
The margins are tight, the systems complex, and not always supportive of farmers trying to do things differently. At times it feels like you need to be a bit mad to choose this life. And in some way, we recognise that in ourselves too: it takes a certain kind of persistence, perhaps even obsession, to keep going with this work, whether in farming or in documentary filmmaking.
Rescued at the last moment
Without hesitation, he sorts out a place for us on his campsite, set within the land he is so closely connected to. What follows is a quiet night in a place we never planned to be, but which arrives at exactly the right moment.
That night, we are still up late copying, sorting and backing up all the material. As on every day of this journey, sleep is pushed aside, but the feeling remains the same: we have captured something meaningful.
And somewhere between exhaustion and satisfaction, one thing becomes clear. It is exactly these kinds of journeys, with everything they demand, that are the reason we do this work.
We say goodbye to Luke and leave the Chew Valley behind. The conversations fall quiet as the miles build towards the coast, and the ferry draws closer.
What remains
With those questions, we continue our journey home. No longer on the way to another meeting, but in the quiet of the return drive, as the images begin to settle and reorder themselves in our minds.
What gradually becomes clearer is that these stories are not only about inspiration or renewal, but also about the tension that comes with change. Behind the energy, the optimism and the pioneering spirit, we find again and again the same underlying current: a search for stability within a system that does not always provide it.
It is a question that keeps returning, in different forms and in different places. How do you build something that aligns with your beliefs, when the structures around you are not necessarily designed to support it? And what does it mean to keep going, when the conditions themselves do not move with you?
And perhaps that is what connects all of these farmers. Not only their vision, or the way they work, but the choice to continue regardless. Day after day, within a system that does not always make it easy, they keep building something that might hold a future.
