Christian Perez's Travel Journal

35 Days (and the coal ran out) in Spring Creek, Sun Jun 25, 2006

My apologies to everyone who doesn't get the obscure phish reference. I think only Big Nate and Amy will appreciate it...

Check the Pictures!!

My fifth week working the vines... I believe I said I would be on the North Island soon, back on June 5th. Not so. I still wear my secateurs low and back on my right hip, backpack full of food and water, and loppers hung under my arm. I feel like a cowboy; a "vine-slinger". Ripping through plants at a blinding speed of 20 per hour. Well, its good enough for more than $100 a day.

I've decided this is my last week. I've had some great times and made a bit of money, but my hands are constantly aching and I wake up with useless claws. I've also lost sight of my orignal goal for this trip: to experience life in rural NZ. I've only been on one farm in all this time. I met a great Kiwi and Maori, but really don't know much about the people of this country or the lives they lead.

So what has happened so far... The hangi was great with lots of meat: venison, hogget, chicken, pork, fish in coconut oil. And vegetables like kumera, which is the Kiwi sweet potato. I helped out tending the bonfire and removing the hot irons from the bottom. After cleaning out the pit, we put the irons back and put the baskets of food on top. Cover the whole thing with wet sackcloths, throw on more water, and dump dirt over everything until no more steam escapes. A few games of badminton, a bit of rugby, a quick ride on the very tired looking pony, and four hours later, we dug up our food and feasted. The hangi was at a completely organic farm owned by Grant's Maori friends, Frankie and Linda. Their house was great. Made of mud bricks, built by Frankie and Grant, the inside looked like a big treehouse. Does that make sense? There was no carpet or floorings, or drywall, or a real ceiling besides the bottom of the roof.

Last weekend, I was playing a bit of frisbee with Grant when he thought we should go up to Picton. Apparently, his current employer was stuck on his boat in the harbour. The prop on his sailboat was tied up in a rope and his dingy floated away in a storm. Grant had his diving gear and was going to try getting the prop unstuck. By the way, its the middle of winter, and the water is freezing!

So we get up there and have to commandere someone else's. The old guy was pretty crazy. But Grant put on all his gear (7 mm wetsuit and two hoods) and after 15 minutes of cutting with my knife bought in Te Anau, he freed the prop. We motored in to the fuel station and he dropped us off. The payoff: he offered to take us sailing, seeing as how he doesn't really know how and I do :)

Yesterday, I went with a group of backpackers to the local pub for the first time. There were a few farmers in there that had obviously been drinking since sundown. They were still wearing their work clothes and even had dirty gumboots on. And of course, they all wore their wool winter hats inside. I'll never forget the sight of some old dirty farmer lining up his shot at the pool table with the very inappropriate "Since you've been gone" song playing in the background.