The Journey Begins

Last Wednesday I began my 88 days of “seasonal work” so to attain a 2nd year visa to stay in Australia. Apparently I do not have any of the “highly skilled” skills you need to get in here long term and I didn’t really want to chance a potential to get sponsored, in case…well…I didn’t. So I have signed up to 3 months of gruelling hard labour in the hopes of securing an extra year of fun in the sun. Boom.

That said, I am busy sitting on the top bunk of my bunk bed (yes bunk bed!) (yes I am 29 years old!) and it is pouring with rain outside. 

Ermagherd, I just spotted a cobweb by the window. Wait, waaaaait, I just spotted the devil who created the heathen web of evil. It’s a really small spider, it’s loitering by the light, just tried to take a photo, eeeep, it’s heading my way. Trying to ascertain if its back is red, those are the bad ones right? Phew it’s kinda brown with like orange legs, that’s sweet hey? Phil has retreated, crisis averted. 

I digress. So last wednesday I began the start of my 88 days in a small farm town in South Australia (aka bumfuck nowhere). I wanted to give all of those embarking on their season with some great ‘how to’ advice on how to nail down a job but well my brother-in-law knew a guy and the rest is history. We drove up a few days earlier to meet the farmer and suss the details of the job. We also hoped to check out the backpackers before moving in but the landlord wasn’t around so we flagged it. Ooooh what a error in retrospect. 

I arrived first thing to a dark, dank house, the outside littered with bottles, butts, mildew-ridden towels and derelict sofas. YUM. The inside was not much better with bottles again littered around the place, a floor that had perhaps never been cleaned, dirty dishes piled a metre high and a crusty grandma carpet so unholy I swear I could feel it move under my feet. I left my bags and legged it outta there, praying that this was not the only house belonging to the backpackers.

I was dropped off on the strawberry farm, bid adieu to my brother in law and waited to be collected by the new boss. First day jitters for strawberry picking? Who’d have thunk? He arrived and off we hurtled to the farm in his bakkie (ute round these parts). There he taught me the right strawberry picking technique, it’s all in the wrist action you see (cue inappropriate laughter and disturbed look from Bulgarian boss man). He also taught me what kind of strawberry is deemed acceptable; be wary of ‘white shoulders’ and diseased/bitten strawberries.  He also showed me how to operate the strawberry picking bike/cart contraption. Basically you start at the top of the field with two stretches of strawberry patches and manoeuvre said contraption and pick strawberries on either side till you reach the bottom. You then park and take your wee basket and pick the strawberries on the other side of the 2 patches. That’s the real killer right there.  Here is a pic to help illustrate...

You know that scene in 500 Hundred Days of Summer when he goes to her birthday party and they have a split screen with the reality and his expectation and, well, the reality doesn’t end up being anything his outlandish expectation. He expected a romantic rooftop reunion and she ends up being engaged to another man. And you (and Joseph Gordon-Levitt) are just like WHAT THE HECK? Well my expectation of strawberry picking went a little something like this. Imagine if you will…Cider House Rules (sans disturbing hillside romp) meets a Walk in the Clouds meets the Sound of Music except I am Maria and instead of being on a hillside in Austria I am in field in Australia frolicking amongst the strawberries. Strawberries are also the cutest fruit of all time so how bad will this really be? Right? Riiiiight?

Cue the shattering of dreams. Well to be fair the farm was beautiful, my boss was really awesome and my co-workers very friendly. But the work was back-breaking, trying to straighten up after picking a row of strawberries was excruciating (hey there oooold timer). The real corker was getting back to the shed after thinking that I had done pretty well, only to find out I had made a whopping $8.56. EIGHT DOLLARS FIFTY SIX. On top of that my boss said I did ‘lousy’ but that it was to be expected of my first day. After my soul being swiftly destroyed I began my hour long walk back to town where I even more swiftly spent $20 at the general store. 

I got home to the sad realisation that the aforementioned backpackers was indeed my home. AND cue further shattering of dreams. After further inspection it was worse than I could possibly imagine with no light in my bedroom, limited hot water and the bathroom - well that was the stuff of nightmares. The real deal breaker was my housemates giving me the option of the bed bugs bed or the other one. You can’t actually make this shit up. FOR REAL.

I slept in my hooded coat in my hooded sleeping bag and was all like...

And I woke up at 3am thinking my phone was vibrating….turns out it was a cow mooing outside my window. You can take the girl out of London…

I woke at 5:30 after finally dozing back to sleep at 5:25 to find a curly birds nest of a head of hair before me in the dirt smeared bathroom mirror. I went to bed with wet hair after being informed that the electricity would shut down if I try using a hair dryer. AWESOME. Especially if you are OCD about drying and straightening your hair daily - #firstworldissues I know! After whipping on my farm garb and devouring some porridge we began our hour long trek. Day 2 was an 8 hour day and the first few hours were fine; I picked up my picking pace and was loving the fresh country air but after 8 hours my back was in agony, all my free time to ponder life was making me want to cry and I started having a weird sort of animosity toward the cute fruit that I once loved. 

I had chats with my family the night before and did some research into another job and backpackers nearby and made the decision to tell my boss that I had to leave due to the state of the house (also due to the fact that I can’t really live on $9 - $30 a day). He was totally understanding about it and said that I wasn’t the only girl to only last a few days. Me turning on the waterworks may have also played a part in his ‘understanding’. I didn’t even force the tears, 3 hours of sleep in a feral house and 8hrs of hard labour can really take a toll on a girl. 

News Flash - I believe the Italian man in my room is mulling an illegal substance. Wow.

Anyway I got back to the backpackers, made some calls, had some 2 minute noodles (taking me back to 2003), had a luke warm shower, packed my shizzle and watched American Hustle on my computer in my bunk bed cave. I swear at one stage Jennifer Lawrence’s face began looking a little red and specked with black. Definitely a very long day.

Today I awoke feeling positive and like I had made the right decision. I may have also felt like a total diva and mildly ashamed of canning it after 2 short days. Woops. Well colour me Kim Kardashian, but I couldn’t live in those conditions okay!

My brother in law picked me up and off to Tanunda (also located in bumfuck nowhere) we went. This town is cute as heck and is also home to Jacob’s Creek Wine. My (moderately priced) wine of choice from Sainsburys in London. Ummmm don’t mind if I do!

The backpackers was paradise compared to the previous joint. So clean and big and light and conveniently located next to Chateau Tanunda - one of Australia’s oldest wineries. Yes please, now we are talking.

I have spent the day unpacking and settling in and watching Pitch Perfect. Totally productive no? I just made some soup for dins and got some serious first day of school anxiety as everyone seems to know each other and I am the strange new kid . Again, yes I am 29 years old. Wow. I took my 3 year old nephew to the park last week and he was scared of this big 4 year old but 2 minutes later he was climbing up some net thing and he was all like do you wanna be friends? I wish we could do that past the age of like 10 without it being weird. I miss my friends *sob* but hopefully I won’t be billy-no-mates for long. There there there.

Oh and now I am reading sad quotes on Pinterest about adventure and doing brave things and shit.  Here are of a few powerfully lame ones that are making me feel better...

aaaaand...

Right I am going to bed. Keep tuned in for the next installment of life on the farm.

Good night xx