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Posts Tagged ‘farm’

Cross Country. Finally!

December 9, 2011

You can’t accuse me of being fast. Never have been. Never will be.

But after two years skimming around the edges and occasionaly fluttering inland I’ve finally managed to cross this country East to West. Yay! This brings my grand total to about 50.000km. Not that I’m counting…

The last 2000km I’ve been cycling with Stuart and despite a few mishaps we (almost) made it back to the west coast…

But let me take you back to Leonora where Stu, after a bout of Swine flu, managed to finally change his backwheel. He’s been cycling with a cracked rim for the last 1500km so it was nice to be able to set off without a wobble in his wheel. There is still a good bit of fun to be had with a useless rim, as some of our campground friends show here;

The enjoyment of problem-free cycling didn’t last long, a day after we set off from our campsite his derailleur snapped…

When a mining vehicle pulled up to check on us we were tempted to give in and chuck the whole lot on board. After being pestered by flies all day the enthusiasm started to falter. (See Video on last update)

But then Stu came to the genius idea to make his a fixed gear bicycle. And a coffee.

After all we were nearly at our goal of Geraldton. (only another 800-odd km’s)

So we kept plodding along.

You might think after about thousands kilometres of dusty red dirt roads things might get boring.

This is not so.

We manage to keep ourselves entertained with deep and meaningful conversation (“so, how was the consistency of your stool this morning?”)

And Stuart is happy running after, and catching, all sorts of wildlife while I rather just get the picture.

But of course just when everything seems beautiful and perfect (except the flies, damn those flies!), something will snap. In this case it was Stuart’s chain.

Because surely, we can not cycle more than 100 km uninterupted..

Lucky we weren’t far off a 5 star campingspot, requirments for 5 stars are:

* A clear spot with no ants or prickles.

* Shade.

* No wind.

* Wood for a fire.

* Water.

If you get all of the above it is definitely 5 stars

And there is nothing like the screeches of galah’s around a windmill to wake you up in the morning.

After long and slow going for many many miles it seemed rather sudden we turned a corner and hit the bitumen,

I usually don’t like paved road because the traffic and, like every other cyclist would know, the stink of roadkill. Well… every other cyclist except for Stuart. He jumps of his bike at the sight of a carcass to check out how fresh it is and if he gets the chance he cuts of bits and pieces to make a stew… or steak, whatever is available.

Going smoothly down the road a multicoloured windmill marked the entrance of the pretty little town of Sandstone.

Being the first town in 5 days we made a beeline for the pub and were very pleasantly surprised when we found out that they make the best burgers in the whole of Australia! Its true, I’ve tried a few… the worst one was at Warakurna roadhouse… in case you care.

That burger kept us going a good while.

It was strange to turn onto the Geraldton-Mount Magnet road. It felt like being back on home ground as it was here I spent more than 4 months two years ago working on farms and stations. Only thing was the Geraldton-Mount Magnet road is 490km, so we weren’t there quiet yet…

It was about 11.30 and 36degrees celcius when we rolled into the tiny little town of Yalgoo. It was small but had all luxuries you can imagine, rainwater, a little shop, BBQ-area and a waterpark! Ok, it’s probably meant for under 12′s only. But I couldn’t let this opportunity go. So while Stu got himself busy cooking up a feast on the BBQ I ran across the road and got a little to excited running around, which resulted in injury.

I can’t remember the last time I slipped and fell like that. I must’ve been about 8 years old…

But even on this ‘home stretch’ things didn’t run smoothly.

Stu got a flat tyre.

Not a major hassle, you might think. But after going through all spares, and mine, it got slightly frustrating. So with no spare tubes he didn’t really have a choice when a road train pulled up and offered us a ride.

The driver was surprised I didn’t want to jump on, but after all those km’s I really wanted to cover the last stretch on my own power. Stu did too, but sadly his bike did not. You never guess. Another cracked rim!!!

He didn’t find out until getting to Mullewa where he noticed the tiny crack just near the valve.

By the time I made it there, two days later, Stuart was already well settled with his new mates in a house with an unusual pet.

Meet Tony the Roo

From there it was just a short stretch ‘Home‘.

Where I celebrate, today, my 32nd birthday. Oh dear. Time to do something with my life…?

nah. I rather cycle.

Posted in Australia | Tagged adventure, BBQ, bicycle, camping, farm, freedom, outback, road train, travel, windmill | 15 Comments »

Not The End

May 21, 2011

I rolled into the small country town of Braidswood on a glorious afternoon. It’s worth mentioning this since the weather has been everything but great my last few weeks in Australia.
My newfound surrogate-parents, Robert and Joan, had mentioned the rodeo in town this weekend and the cattle-sales.
I have not seen a cattle sale-yard before (I saw the sheep-sale yards…) so went to have a look.
Many men with hats. This was good since I like ehm… hats. Not at all did I feel out of place dressed in lycra leggings and my work-shirt…

When I arrived at the rodeo-ground the preparations were in full swing. So I parked my bike between farm-ute’s and horse-floats, put on my hat and helped setting up.
Yeehaa!

The sun kept it up the whole weekend…

.But, naturally, as soon as I set off on my bike it started to drizzle. Via my newfound ‘mum & dad’ I got some contacts on the way out. So I stopped off at a farm where I was spoiled and filled up with steak, beer, pancakes and ice cream. I keep telling myself ‘I’ll cycle it off’… I’ve got a whole lot more cycling to do…

I set off along the Nerriga road. Mainly because on the map I’ve seen places named; “Duran Dura”, “Wog Wog” and “Tomboy”.
A dirt-road, with a little more traffic then I expected. Some serious ups and downs and the pub in Nerriga.

In the pub in Nerriga a man took one look at my bike and told me I couldn’t cycle up the next hill. I find this an unusual statement. Just because he couldn’t do it doesn’t mean I can’t… So I cycled up the hill. And called in at the chestnut-farm at the top where I stayed a day picking chestnuts , drinking beer and watching a man and his bird…what else to do on a rainy day?

Cycling along I saw a honey-place. I like honey so stopped and had a coffee. While the bees where buzzing about, doing what bees do I had a chat to the owner. He came to the conclusion I needed energy and stamina, so he gave me three little packs of super-honey. Bee power. And a bright yellow cap. I cycled real fast after that. And uphill too!

So fast that before I knew it evening started falling and I hadn’t reached Hill End yet (that is the name of the town at the end of the hill). When I stopped to take a photo of a cute cottage.

a car pulled up, the lady lived in that cottage and migrated from Uruguay to Australia with her husband 23 years ago. Now they are restoring the cottage and having a South-American-style BBQ. If I’d like to join

So without much trouble I reached the old mining town of Hill End the next morning. Once the largest NSW inland city with 52 pubs because of a massive amount of gold in the ground. Now it’s merely a ghost town with a nice little shop where few people mentioned the road I intended to take was closed. After some more inquieries I found out there had been a landslide and cars couldn’t get past. Motorbikes could, I was told in the pub. So, logically, a pushbike could too.

I assumed that because of this the ‘Bridle-Track’, as it is known, would be quiet and traffic-free.
I was wrong.
I chose a holiday weekend to ride through the most popular camping spot in a 500km radius (well, so it seemed) Every spot at the river was jam-packed with 4WD’s, tents, kids on cross motors and men with chainsaws (just for firewood… I hope)

.
Just before the landslide area I ran into Terry. Terry build a house in the valley and was just gathering leaves to burn that evening. I joined him for a cuppa and the fire. And by gathering our supplies we managed to cook a nice meal that evening.

Back into the real world and onto real roads with real traffic I decided to stay a night in the masively un-appealing town of Bathurst (note; on a nice day in a good mood it probably is a lovely place…)
Where I was allowed to pitch my tent at the sport-grounds. This same evening a engagement-party was held at the sport-grounds. With no chance of an early night I joined the party

I cycled up and up and wondered why everything felt a lot harder then I thought it should. Surely one bad night sleep wouldn’t do this to me? The answer came a little later as I said good bye to a young family who’d invited me for lunch; “Don’t you need some air in your tyres?” He shouted as I rode off… ahhh, that explains a lot. Oops.

I do like this part of Australia eventhough at times it seems a little hectic. Like when I came across the Blue Mountains back to Sydney. It was the end of a bank holiday weekend. The lack of shoulders and some sharp little climbs made it slightly hazardous. Maybe the fact I don’t like traffic noice so I cover it with my music and the ungoing drizzle didn’t help… could’ve all together made for an unpleasant experience. A massive traffic jam snaked itself all the way up the mountains. So I happily cycled past the lot, all the while thinking that eventhough it has been said many many times… Surely I’m not the mad one…
Even I sometimes doubt it, like when I had to return 4 times to a massive viewing platform before I could finally see ‘the three sister’ through the mist. I’ve got three sisters myself and can tell you, they look nothing like it.

I had the pleasure to be hosted by Leigh I met a long time ago (well, feb last year) when I stayed at a big motorbike-gathering. A very keen cyclist. He showed me around Sydney on my last visit and now he took me to some beautiful viewpoints and Katoomba. I have to take his word for the beauty of the place because all I saw was clouds… He did accompany me down the mountain on a lovely downhill ride.

Now my time in Australia has come to an end. Or, to be more correct, my visa has come to an end.
The thing is, I’m not done…

So-this is not “THE END.”

Posted in Australia | Tagged BBQ, beer, bicycle, farm, freedom, three sister, travel | 9 Comments »

About the Birds and the Bike (and some other things I like)

January 11, 2011

Ever heard of the Malleefowl?

I didn’t before working in one of their habitats… It’s great seeing these funny little birds run about, never realizing they are actually real special. This native Australian bird is an endangered species with only small populations surviving. They’re real shy and a bit silly. They happened to set up camp not far from ours, so I had the privilege of spotting them on a number of occasions. They’re distantly related to chickens. But chickens are not very rare…

After six months of sitting on my ass in a fancy air-conditioned 4WD it didn’t come as much of a shock that it wasn’t very easy to get back on my bike.Peter accompanied me on the first stretch out of Port Lincoln.

The road followed the coast but due to heavy rains in December the harvest is running late and the road is full of big grain trucks going a million miles an hour blasting you off the bituman every time they pass.

Lucky I found a lovely little dirt-track going away from the main-drag nearer to the coast. At times it followed the road closely, and I did get a few strange looks heaving the bike through ditches and sand while being only meters from the bituman. But I like the efford that takes a lot better then joining the rest of the road-pizza’s. And I ‘discovered’ some beautifull campspots along the way. A bit windy at times, and with one pole still missing my tent flaps around like crazy.

One reason I was going into Adelaide was my passport expiring. When I set off on this trip I never guessed I’d still be going 4 years later, and not even halfway ’round the world yet…

Another reason was finding a replacement for that missing pole, turns out the distributor for this brand is in WA… Where I just spend over a year! Darn.

I spent Christmas in Adelaide with Linda, a good friend of my dads cousin, And Steve, a good friend of mine. It was here I discovered I might’ve grown out of the lactose-intolarance I picked up in Nepal when an overly friendly parasite set up residence in my stomach. But just to be sure I tried eating cheese, cream, ice-cream, chocolate and yoghurt. And I didn’t feel ill! I had another huge piece of pavlova & cream to celebrate. I did feel ill then, but I don’t think it was because of the lactose…

Christmas is a funny happening here in Australia, no one seems to care that the seasons are all wrong! They put up decorations with big santa’s in costumes and beards and plastic sledges and snowman even though the temperature is 40+ degrees! It still seems a little strange to me.

We all went to see an exibition called ‘desert lands’ in the National museum… It made me want to get back on the road. So I got back on the road.

I found my way to Kapunda, where Chris lives. He kept me entertained for a few days. Not only with copious amounts of Coopers pale ale, but also with his hilarious stories of past exploits in different fields of work From Milkman to Bartender to Gigolo and, lately, running Aboriginal communities all over Australia (we met when I cycled into one of those back in 2009)

He gave me a tour of the Barossa valley which ended in a wine-tasting session (It tasted great!) and a unusual history lesson. I never knew the first settlers in the Barossa-valley liked to spend their sunday-afternoons playing hunting-games. They were awarded different point for different kills, a rabbit would give you 5 points, a fox 10, a Kangaroo or Emu 50 and an Aboriginal 100. The last one disappeared around 1895…

New Years eve is a fairly tame event in Kapunda. So I decided to make my own party and Hijacked the jukebox in the local pub and under the suprised and slightly baffled looks of locals dragged Chris into my own version of dancing the night away (I want to ride my bicycle/ on the road again & Dolly… just a few examples)

After midnight there seemed nothing else to do but to join a crowd of young lads to a house party where we spent the rest of the night playing ping pong and watching curious cooking-shows.

Happy new Year.

On the map I’ve seen a road going straight across the ’Big Desert Wilderness Park’ Since I seem to have missed out on the Great-Central road (only for now! There will always be another winter…) I took this track, a sign at the start warned me for a ‘rough sandy road’ That sounded good to me, for sure I wouldn’t meet any trucks along here.

The only vehicle I did meet was a big 4WD who flew past me later that day while shouting out the window: “How ya going!”…. typical Aussie greeting, he wouldn’t have expected an answer. If I would’ve had the chance I’d let him know that, obviously, in the sand… uphill, and against the wind I was going very very slowly. But he sped past and left me in a thick cloud of dust.

It was wonderfull though! No sounds but the gravel under my wheels, the singing of birds and dogs howling in the distance. Oh, and locusts.

Just when I was getting used to the flies in the west here these grass-hoppers seem to prevail. Instead of crawling in your eyes, ears, and nose as flies like to do. The locust smacks BANG into your face and hops away again. I was wondering if they might make for a tasty snack… Full of protein.

On my map I’d seen a little blue dot named ‘The Springs’. Silly enough I figured there’d be water there so I made it my goal for the day. I got there and searched high and low, but no sign of any spring at all! Nah.

Lucky I jumped into a puddle 13km earlier at the ‘Big Billy Bore’…

It didn’t take long before I was back in wheat-growing area’s. Where still the harvest, and the wheat-trucks, keep going. One of the farmhouses along my road happened to belong to Stephen & Bron. Of course I didn’t know this untill I’d called in and was offered a place on their gorgeous lawn and dinner with the family.

A great thing about this part of the country is water. There is water. Not that there’s a lack of it in Queensland at the moment, but that’s another story.

I love jumping in puddles and dam’s along the way for a wash or just to cool down.

Packing up my tent one morning I was surprised hearing “Good Morning Mirjam!” from across the river. I didn’t think I knew a lot of people in Warracknabeal…

But I met a family in the pub the night before, and Rosemary was on her run around town when she spotted me packing up across the river. An invitation for breakfast followed.

It’s still amazing to find yourself in situations you could never foresee. Like when I ran into Brian one morning. He’d just gone down to buy a local newspaper when I cycled past…

What started with;”Hello, where are you going?” Ended up a lovely day spent at his house full of miniature-bicycles, Poached eggs, and an interview with the local newspaper…

To my surprise the weather started to be a lot cooler, even some drops came falling down.

It makes for lovely green scenery and I enjoyed riding up and down the hills around Dalesford and if I pretended I was in an Irish summer then it didn’t seem too bad at all.

I thought Australia in summer would be hot and dry. But no, Queensland is flooded and here in Melbourne the rain hasn’t eased since I arrived. But I’m not complaining. Nope. I am actually very excited because I have got a major adventure coming up.

You will see.

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Posted in Australia | Tagged aboriginal, adventure, beer, cycling, farm, freedom, Mallee Fowl, travel | 10 Comments »

Seeding seed and UFOs

June 18, 2010

To cycle or not to cycle. That is the question.

The answer is simple and obvious. So I thought.

Then why, you might ask, is it you are not on the road.

Sometimes one has to work to be able to maintain a certain lifestyle…

And what job could be better than working on a WA farm?

So, here I find myself again. Driving tractors while enjoying the good life.

If you thought life on a farm in Western Australia is uneventful, maybe even boring, I can tell you different.

Playing with big machines, UFOs and rescuing rabbit’s has all been part of daily life…

Although not many think I should be rescuing the European rabbit that is a pest over here. Shooting them is considered more appropriate. But look how cute they are! Not far from this farm runs the rabbit-proof fence, built between 1901 and 1907 to try and keep them out of the crop. That attempt failed. Gary calls it ‘share-farming’ the rabbits get their share….

One of the most important things in this part of the world is rain. Or the lack of it.

Everything that is done at the farm is influenced by it. So it’s not too strange that first thing in the morning the rain forecast is checked online followed by phone calls to family members in other parts of the state to check on their progress.

I found myself doing it too after a little while. A phone call would start with; “Hi, did you get any rain yet? …And how are you?….”

My job was to drive the caterpillar with a 16.5meter air seeder ’round and ’round and ’round the paddock and make sure not to hit anything and put seed and fertiliser in the ground so it can grow (if we get rain) and hopefully become a lovely thick crop of lupins, triticali and wheat to harvest in about 5 months from now.

Trying to go straight has been a bit of a challenge, specially since the tractor seems to have a preference for turning right…

The work went on 24/7. My shift ran from 8am to 8pm and the night shift was for Lynne. The farmers daughter. She had the bright idea to get some audio-books. So I’ve listened to murder mysteries, plastic surgery drama’s and vampire stories while still going ’round and ’round and ’round…

Sometimes, when there hasn’t been enough rain yet, there’s other jobs to do at the farm.

Like marking lambs. Giving them earrings and getting rid of tails and balls… Something different and slightly gory. Makes you appreciate the fact you’re not born a young male sheep… Something I don’t think about too often.

As you might know ‘we are not alone’…. Gary, the farmer, knows all about that.

Strange sounds can regularly be heard on the property and armed with a camera he goes out and chases weird round shapes that make frantic buzzing noises and seem to fly around the house for no obvious reason. He hasn’t yet figured out what this might be…

I include one of his pictures so you can have a look yourself…

I’ve been sharing a whole house with Will, he came from England and has been driving the boom-spray. It’s nice having a house… lighting the fireplace and playing boggle… well, I did. Will doesn’t like boggle. He did like the fireplace. And the telly.

One thing we both didn’t like much was a unknown creature, death and rotting under the floorboards. That stank!

As every farm here too we had a dog.

I like dogs. Normally.

But you should see this one! It’s a little Jack Russell who thinks he’s king. Apparently he grew up with a much bigger dog, and now thinks he is huge himself… The bigger dog, apparently, is scared of everything… Jack didn’t like me. The feeling was mutual. His favourite pastime is growling and barking and biting my toes… That, and killing harmless little rabbits. Evil, I’m telling you. Although some others call it ‘misunderstood’. Sure.

But, how ever interesting and fun it is to live on the farm and have a house, the time has come to make a move.

Tomorrow I’ll be on my way.

I’m as organised as you can expect from me…

I got a permit to cross Aboriginal land.

I got a ‘spot tracking device’ so if I happen to disappear in the bush I can always be found thanks to a satelite tracking system. Yes. I’m now officially high-tech…

And I’ve got an ‘extra wheel’

Indeed. A third wheel so I can carry even more random things with me, although I will be leaving my snorkeling gear behind this time. Don’t think I need it.

The plan is to ride across the middle of Australia.

Via Leonora, Uluru and the Plenty Highway over east…

Let’s see how far I get.

On the road again…. I’m on the road again… Sjalaladiela

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Posted in Australia | Tagged adventure, farm, tractor, UFO | 8 Comments »

Cruising the Land

May 22, 2010

If you recently got a driver’s licence and you are not too sure about your abilities I would recommend you to drive a Landcruiser across Australia….. and back.

After fifteen-thousand km, I’m feeling a bit more secure behind the wheel.

And, as a nice side effect, had a wonderful time cruising the land.

Although my legs are starting to complain about the lack of excercise in resent weeks…

When I dropped mum and dad off at Melbourne airport it seemed like a good idea to call a friend…

Brendan is driving his van around Australia. We met a couple of weeks ago and kept in touch We caught up at the airport so he could safely guide me out of Melbourne (…) At Mount Franklin we made camp. Brendan is very well-organized so even when its raining and real cold, you can sit warm and dry inside the van where a complete kitchen provides the luxury of a great meal… the cook helped on that account too Another excellent feature is the shower. It runs on gas and in no time at all you can be as clean and warm as you can imagine, heavenly. No wonder I decided to meet up again along the way…

In the landcruiser I have got a Tom-Tom. I’ve never used it before so it seemed a good idea to ask for the shortest route back to Kapunda…

That was a mistake.

Or maybe not really a mistake since I had a very interesting time and took roads I NEVER would’ve picked on a map. The TomTom was friendly enough to start off with, even asked me if I wanted to avoid dirt-roads. I did. But then he continued completely ignoring me and the dirt-roads… any roads actually. He guided me into a lovely hilly area, but seemed to be unaware of the fact that the road he had in mind didn’t actually exist. Turn left now, turn left now…. TURN LEFT NOW. There wasn’t a left turn! In fact there wasn’t any turns… And it didn’t just happen ones. On some strangers driveway I decided TomTom knew even less where we were going than I did.

So I ignored TomTom and let him mumble to himself while I continued. To arrive in Kapunda just after sunset.

Where my parcel hadn’t arrived (more about that another time).

But after 2 days I wanted to move on. So I cooked (yes, I cooked! Seriously… strange things are happening this side of the world) a huge pot of ‘hutspot’. So I wouldn’t have to bother withbuying or making food along the way. You can’t take fruit & vegetable across the Western Australian border unless it’s cooked. So, there you go. I cooked… (hutspot=Dutch dish of onion, carrot and potatoes all mashed up)

There is a lot of free-camp area’s in australia. Many are along the highways, but some are in hidden and amazing places.

They are easy to find if you get this guide-book ‘Camps Australia 5′. I didn’t. But lucky for me Brendan did It is also referred to as ‘the travellers-bible’. And for good reasons, it guided us to some very pretty, quiet and free camp sites.

We stayed at stoney point where we walked around the lighthouse with sunset.

And the one at Pildappa rock. A huge granite outcrop in the middle of nowhere (like everywhere in Australia… pretty much) It was so pretty we stayed for two nights, climbed the rock had a beer and found a sheep.

Have I mentioned Brendan is from New Zealand?

After saying goodbye and see you later I kept cruising west. Back along the long straight road and past the hat-tree, the appliances-tree, the underwear-tree and the shoe-tree…

It seemed to take less time going back even though I stuck to 90km/h the whole way to annoy every other vehicle going my direction… And to safe fuel.

I found some lovely camping spots right on the edge, and one near a waterhole.

I wasn’t the only one there. Mark and Wendy were just on their way home from buying a fancy new caravan in Adelaide. It was fancy. And new. And in the fridge they had cold beer. And on the laptop they had a movie. And in the kitchen they could make sausages and poached eggs. I really liked their fancy new caravan…

In the car they had a two-way radio. So on our way to Norseman we could talk to each other about other road-users and the colour of the trees. (They looked beautiful! Like someone had gone to paint them all gold..)

In Norseman the friendly lady at the information was so friendly, she gave me a certificate to commemorate that I have crossed the Nullarbor. I didn’t think it was a huge feat. Not in a big white car. Not like it would be on a bicycle… But I’m not going that way on my bicycle. I’m gonna go straight across the middle of Australia. So I gladly accepted her certificate. And kept driving.

Untill I ran into my friend Don, who happened to be on his way east on the Enfield. After a night in the tent, a coffee and a go at the bike (love that bike) I kept going. The car was overdue, thought I better get it back.

But when I got back Michael told me to get up to Shark Bay and go fishing with a farmer. Strange request I thought, but ok. I drove the 500km North from Geraldton and went fishing with the farmer.

I caught a shark. Not a big one, but still.

I did catch the biggest fish of the day, a snapper. 77cm. So big it was illegal according to the chart, so we cut it up and chucked it on the BBQ

Although I’m still not sure I can say ‘I caught it’ since someone else put the bait on and some one else took the fish off… Ah well, never mind.

At Shark bay you find ‘Stramatolites’. Stramatolites are direct desendants of the oldest form of life on earth. About 3,500million years…

Since I was there I thought I’d better go and have a look…

Driving up to Shark Bay it suddenly struck me as very strange how people seem to find it perfectly normal to live in ridiculous remote places. Like Denham, Australia’s most westerly town, everybody just goes on with their lives like it’s no big deal that the next town is 500km down the road… Madness.

They idea behind the whole fishing-expedition was for me to get a job on that farm. Farmer said yes. But when I got down there nobody seemed to have any idea and farmer himself had mysteriously disappeared.

So there I was. With a Landcruiser full of stuff (bicycle, camping gear etc.) And no idea where to go or what to do. I rang Kayne. We worked together on the tarps and now he’s on a farm near Perenjori. I helped out for a day. Picking up rocks from the paddock. It seems like a crazy job to be doing on a 30.000 acre farm. But I guess it needs to be done.

I realized there is a bit of a language barrier between some of them guys (mostly kiwi’s) and me.

Like when I asked where they wanted me to drive the truck….

Him: “See them poles?“

Me: “I see a lot of poles, there’s a whole fence“

Him: ” No, not Poles… poles..“

Me: “ah! You mean piles?…. Yes, I see them“

Him: “right, just make a beeline for them centre two outside ones…” …And he walks of.

Me: “????“

After a few days of feeling slightly lost I got the car back to Michael. So that’s another chapter closed.

And I got a job at Gary and Jenny Masons farm.

They’re the same people I’ve spent x-mas with.

I’ve been doing random jobs around the farm from shovelling shit out of the shearing shed to scrubbing floors and from building brick pathways to planting flowers….

All this while waiting for rain…

Today it has started. If it keeps going we can start putting the crop in shortly and I’ll be doing one of the things I like best after cycling.

Driving big tractors