workaway Archives - Burning the Map

October 14, 2019February 21, 2020

The Oktoberfest Black Hole

I got lost in a vacuum. Thankfully, it was the good kind of lost. For the better part of a month, I was in a whirlwind of German beer, party people, the S2 train, and rolling sleeping bags.

This was my most anticipated Workaway to date — an Oktoberfest with Festanation. I knew it was going to be camping for the entirety of the festival, but that was the only real information I had.

The majority of the volunteers arrived on a Sunday in the middle of September. It was a largely empty site at an old Olympic stadium/horse farm. The first day was all about icebreakers and orientation talk. There was something like 60 of us from 20 different countries. Everyone was preassigned a role and separated into a Camp 1 or Camp 2 faction.

The next day, the Camp 1 hooligans were shipped off to their temporary home and my Camp 2 fam began constructing the remainder of our drunken sanctuary. We had 3 intense days of setting up tents and teepees, building out a kitchen, and decorating and organizing to create some coziness.

While this phase was grueling at times, it gave everyone an opportunity to grow into a close crew. Especially when we finished for the day and the beers came out. We punished crate upon crate of €.29 Pilsner. Everyone quickly became pseudo-dependent on alcohol. It was like none of us could act normally without a few sips of something. But finally, we were ready for our first guests.

The first day of Oktoberfest, it was my responsibility to shepherd the guests in…even though I’d never done it before. Half of them immediately got on a train without me, so I guess that made things easier.

It was a beautiful day. All reports were that it would be impossible to find a table but we were able to snag one in the Biergarten at the Paulaner fest hall. After the mayor officially tapped the first keg at noon, the steins began flowing. It was a glorious thing to witness. The waiters and waitresses were carrying out 12 liters of beer at once. Insanity. I was with a group of fellow volunteers and the wheels came off the wagon relatively early. We kept losing each other amidst the crowd of other drunkards. We convened outside another tent and started snatching up abandoned beers next to the entrance. When I lost the group for the sixth time, I wandered around some more and decided to head back to camp.

Thus, the cycle had started.

Oktoberfest can be difficult to manage. I went in probably around 10 times. When you’re sober, it is significantly less fun! I couldn’t believe that parents were bringing their children there. When you’re there all day, it’s a proper test of drinking at the right pace. A liter of beer is a shit ton to start off with. But it’s also brewed at a higher percentage for the festival. The trouble is, “Ein Prosit” (drinking song), is played about every 5 minutes, so you’re continually pouring that sweet nectar down your gullet. Otherwise, you’ve got some jolly tablemates that want to cheers because everyone blinked. It’s continuous. And usually you forget to eat even though pretzels the size of a lion’s head pass by at a steady clip.

All that being said, it’s a hell of a time. Everybody is in positive spirits (because beer) and there’s rarely a place that you won’t make a fast friend. I saw more people being wheeled out on gurneys from extreme drunkenness than fights.

The most dangerous outings for me came when I got off of a late shift and went in for just two hours. By that time, the entire beer hall was standing on benches and singing along to classic tunes. The rate of consumption increased as the vividness of my memories decreased. There’s a reel or two missing, if you know what I mean.

A few days into the festival, I ran out of cellular data. At the camp, there was no WiFi, so I was feeling very disconnected from the rest of the world. Hence, the vacuum. The only world I knew was in front of me. Fellow volunteers. Taking the train. Drinking a stein. Standing on benches chatting with strangers. Eating eggs for breakfast. Spending an entire 7 hour shift cleaning and rolling sleeping bags. Repeat.

As an aside, some of the guests staying with us were heathens. I can’t even begin to describe the amount of vomit, piss, and sometimes shit we had to deal with during housekeeping shifts. “Shocking behavior!” as a fellow travel mate once said.

Back to the camp — tent life for a month is an unusual standard. First off, the bipolar German weather had us sweating during the day and absolutely freezing at night. Not to mention the amount of rain we had. Where do you hang your shower towel to dry when it’s pissing down? Second off, have you ever tried to stay organized when living inside a small plastic box for more than a week. I was losing shit left and right, which we know is uncharacteristic for my semi-OCD ass.

I still can’t believe how quickly the time evaporated. There were so many random, but amazing things that happened among the Festanation staff. Pranks on the regular. Virginity lost. Other hook ups. Wearing ridiculous outfits. Todd. Dancing to outlandish songs on repeat. Smuggling beverages. Turning a carrot into a trumpet. Stickers everywhere. Making fun of Flavio. Yes, that carrot thing really happened.

The overall event met, exceeded…disintegrated expectations? I don’t know. It ranks up there around incredibly unforgettable (except for the parts I forgot due to beer) on the scale of great experiences. The rag tag crew of people were an absolute riot. There’s one person, though, that I was lucky enough to really connect with throughout camp. Michelle stole me away. She is a positive, intelligent and creative person with an infectious laugh and an inescapable brightness. Plus, I don’t think she’s ever taken a bad photo. This is beyond any camp or festival fling. I’m starting to believe that sometimes you just know.

As the festival came to a close and our last guest checked out, the reality of what was next began to set in. The first few people left camp and it was depressing. Not only did we have to start tearing down everything we’d built and known for the past few weeks, but we also had to start saying goodbye. It really hit me when I saw the shop at the entrance that sold lederhosen and dirndls was completely empty. Also when they took our showers away and we still had 3 days of pack up left.

The camp 2 family went out for a last supper to celebrate the survival of Oktoberfest 2019. It wasn’t the whole group, but it was a quality time. We had an award ceremony and a final get smashed bash in what was left of the reception tent afterward.

The following day, people started to trickle out. Myself included. I went into Munich to spend one last night with Michelle.

Oh, yeah. Munich. I saw almost none of the city during the entire month. Remember that vacuum?

Anyway, the real goodbye was on a Friday morning. I got on a bus headed for Croatia. I crossed the border safely (which was good news for many reasons), and I wondered when I would see everyone next. Especially that special girl in Mexico.

Soon.

September 10, 2019September 10, 2019

Stare Miasto Maestro

Meat and potatoes. Pierogi. Sometimes cabbage when it’s wrapped around meat.

Ok, there’s a little more to the Polish cuisine than that, but it’s still very hearty, which is also a pretty good description of the people. Direct, organized and hard working. Over the month+ I spent in the country, I met a decent amount of natives. They all seemed highly motivated with busy schedules. Unless they were a żul — a homeless person that drinks in the park. I got called that one night, so that’s a nice look at the current trajectory of my life.

My introduction to Poland came via a moderate-sized city called Szczecin, two hours east of Berlin. Yes, it’s just as difficult to pronounce as it is to spell (a general rule of thumb you can apply to the entire language). In Szczecin, I joined up with the people involved in my week-long Workaway at an English language camp. Sascha, the coordinator, was from the US but living in Poland for the past 7 years and my fellow volunteers were from Australia, New Zealand, India, Hong Kong, and various parts of the UK. We were given an informal tour of the city, which gave us a chance to get to know each other a bit. The next day, we left for camp.

NativesWorld 2019 took place at a “palace” near a lake in a small village. There were a little over 30 kids, ranging from 10-17 years old. Our days consisted of one-on-one conversations, group meals, games/activities, and differing night entertainment. It was actually a lot more exhausting than it sounds. If the English-speaking volunteers were tired at the end of each day, I can’t imagine how the Polish kids felt. For the most part, they all had a solid grasp on the language and were excited to communicate about any random topic. It was fun getting to connect with the youngsters and the staff throughout the week. At the end of each day, the volunteers went down to the dock and chatted while the sun finished setting. That gave me an opportunity to “stitch up” one of my roommates, Tim, who was from New Zealand and taught me that term. I still don’t think I’m using it correctly. Anyway, once the week was over, the group of mentors had a very aggressive night out back in Szczecin, as if the 7 days of not drinking at camp was the longest drought we could endure. Good times.

In addition to the teaching responsibilities, I was also shooting photos and video as a freelance gig for Sascha. Freelance has been creeping up recently, which is a minor, but incredibly helpful income stream that replenishes my coffers to keep me traveling.

My next endeavor was a month-long Workaway at a very well-located hostel in Kraków. It was a 32-bed accommodation with a small but social kitchen and common room. The shifts were in super manageable 3-hour increments; either putting out breakfast, mid-day cleaning, or night watch. While I was there, there was at least 4 other Workawayers at a time. Since our work was low-key, we had plenty of time to hang around and chat about random topics. I got into a few one-sided, yet hilarious conversations with an intelligent mid-20s Scotsman named Jack. His smarts also helped us to 2 pub quiz victories, a valuable pathway to free beer and food.

Other than that, I kept a relatively chill profile over the month. There was a 24-hour convenient store directly under the hostel which made things a little too easy. I was based in the Old Town (Stare Miasto in Polish) so everything was in walking distance. Hence, most of my outings involved walking around and enjoying the city. And what a city. Kraków is the second biggest in Poland, but notably amazing because the medieval center has remained largely intact. There’s an impressive city gate, a castle on a river, a cloth trading hall and several cathedrals. On top of the old buildings, there’s also a ton of history in the Jewish quarter and areas surrounding the city, mainly because of the German takeover at the beginning of WWII. The Oskar Schindler Factory Museum (one of the best museums I’ve ever been to), gives a comprehensive account of the German occupation. As you move through the exhibits, it really takes you on a journey from 1939-1945.

The Auschwitz camps are also an hour’s drive away. The museum site tells the story of how the concentration and extermination camps were formed. You can walk into several buildings to see the confiscated belongings, cells of the first gassed prisoners, and most disturbingly, something like one ton of leftover human hair. If that doesn’t make you shudder, there is an abyss occupying the space where your heart should be. Next, you can go to Auschwitz II-Birkenau and be in awe of the sheer scale of the place. The expansive camp was home to 174 barracks and 4 crematoria. Trains brought people straight to the “death platform,” where approximately 80% were immediately sent to the gas chamber. I was there on a hot day where there is no cover of shade. I can only imagine how awful it was for the prisoners to have to work in those conditions, with such little water and food rations, and then have to sleep 4 to a tiny bed in a building of over 700. Not to mention the winter months, having to strip naked and wait outside the shower building for up to 5 hours. It’s astounding to imagine the level of evil required to put other humans through that.

On a lighter subject, there’s also a salt mine within a short public transit ride. Jack and I went one day to see the underground, unexpected amazement. We went on a 2 hour tour and only saw 1% of the mine. The thing must be absolutely massive. At our deepest point, we were over 400m (~1300ft) below the surface. There was a full blown cathedral in there as well. I didn’t lick the walls, but I did taste some random liquid runoff. In retrospect, that was probably the more risky maneuver.

Another memorable event was attending an experimental music festival in Katowice. I went with my friend Magda, who I’d been messaging for months before getting to Kraków. We didn’t know what “experimental” meant, so it was a toss up. Up until a few days before, I thought it was a day time thing in a field. Come to find out it started at 9pm and was mostly inside at a former industrial space. We had 3:15am bus tickets back, but were hoping it was going to be good enough to revise those arrangements. Indeed it was. On the whole, the music was electronic, sometimes a bit too house/trance, but that didn’t stop us from dancing for 5 hours straight. We eventually got back to Kraków at 8am.

One short week later and I was on another bus leaving the city. My time there was simultaneously fast and slow. I sort of got lulled into the idea that I didn’t have to rush through doing things because I had a whole month. Of course now that I look back on it, I could have accomplished more. How often is that my refrain? Just about always. Granted, I did a decent amount of freelance work during my down time at the hostel. The good news is, I tackled the top 3 things that were on my list. Everything after that can be considered a bonus.

August 19, 2019August 19, 2019

Happy Anniversary

One year away from home. Actually, a few days longer, but who’s counting?

It was a thrilling prospect before I left. Uncharted territory. Like landing on the moon. Ok. Obviously not that significant. But, still a leap into the unknown. After being gone so long, the concept of home has changed. Life on the road has essentially morphed into my “normal.” So I guess it’s a battle of two adages: “home is where the heart is” or “home is where you hang your hat.” If we’re going by the former, it’s still Richmond. If we’re going by the latter…well, damn. I have been wearing hats a lot. And they’ve been hanging in so many different places. Counting the number of beds I’ve slept in over the past year would take a full day, so we’re going to have to settle for “heaps.”

As a person that loves the order and comfort of my own space, I’ve adapted as well as can be expected to messy hostels, a consistently uninteresting wardrobe, and living out of a backpack. Either I’ve relaxed the desire to control my environment (thus developing lazier habits) or I’m able to recognize that the situation is mostly temporary so I don’t sink effort into changing it for a day. I think my mindset would be different if I knew it was more permanent. The only way to know for sure is to make an assessment after I’ve returned.

By far, the most repetitive conversation I’ve had over my travels is:

What’s your name?
Where are you from?
How long have you been traveling?
Where have you been?
Where are you heading next?

I’ve considered getting the answers tattooed on myself. The frequency is somewhat painful, but it does lead to some worthwhile interactions with fellow travelers. The contacts list in my phone has definitely exploded. To be fair, I’m not communicating with all of them, but there’s about a dozen people I will continue to stay in touch with and likely meet up with again on my journey.

It’s impossible to list the incredible experiences I’ve had during this year abroad. Multi-day excursions, summit views, and activities…or entire locales that have taken me well outside of my comfort zone. As is the case with time, the memories are becoming fuzzier. Is my recall just bad or is it a universal problem for everyone? It seems next to impossible to vividly remember the exact details of a particularly great event. I can pinpoint some of the colors and shapes, but the reason or emotion is harder to summon. Even though they’re not totally gone, losing part of the shine on some these adventures already means it’ll be that much harder to relive in the future. I guess it’s somewhat of a conundrum trying to stack new memories on top of the old ones for fear of completely forgetting the past. Thankfully I can at least retrace the bread crumbs through some pictures and video.

One thing I haven’t grown out of is being a slave to money. I mean, I don’t have a dedicated budget, but I’m constantly choosing the cheapest possible option for almost every meal and accommodation. In retrospect, I think I went too fast and loose in New Zealand and Australia. I told myself before I left that I wouldn’t turn down an experience because of cost and I haven’t necessarily stuck to that principle. Now that I’m in Europe, I’ve got to be much more strategic with spending. Eliminating solo beers and unnecessary trips to the bar has helped. Also, lining up Workaways and housesits keeps the cash from flying out of my pocket.

While the volunteering opportunities have been good for my wallet, they’ve also given me a lot more down time. I’ve noticed a general malaise creeping up recently. I don’t think it’s a lack of energy because I’ve been getting decent sleep in the ever-changing beds. It might be a lack of motivation, though. For the past month or so, I’ve been coasting — very passive about exploring new areas and making decisions that stimulate the soul. I certainly recognize that I’m in a privileged situation to be able to travel like this, so I need to shake it off.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still thoroughly enjoying my time. I haven’t felt an inescapable thrall to return home yet.

Yet.

Perhaps it’s coming. Maybe the lack of lifestyle consistency is starting to take a toll. Or I just need to test the boundaries again. Time to challenge myself again. I’m on a quest for the invigorating and it’s going to be awesome.

March 20, 2019March 20, 2019

Ha Long Bae?

I’m not even sure how long it’s been since my last post. Time has been flying by here in Halong Bay.

I took a local shuttle from Hanoi, where no one at the company spoke English. It worked out though. As we made the approach to my drop off point, we drove along the water and the plethora of limestone islands gave an impressive vibe.

I was the last one to get out and I felt a small sense of relief when I realized I was indeed at the right place. I walked inside the building and took the elevator up to the 15th.

After knocking on the door, I was greeted by Hiểu, who is the 15 year old son of my host, Quynh. He let me into the small yet tidy apartment and we chatted for a while about soccer and his other interests.

The view from the apartments balcony is epic by the way. The weather has mostly been overcast/rainy since I’ve been here but when it turns, the complete vista will be very epic.

Eventually, Quynh got home so we met and talked as she prepared dinner. It was a tasty meal of fish and rice, which we ate early because there were two English classes (that I was there to help teach) that startied soon.

Even though it was the first day I was there, I went to the classes for a short amount of time to introduce myself. The kids were excited for a foreign visitor and did their best to ask me questions and satisfy their curiosities.

That was a Thursday. On the way to get coffee on Saturday, Quynh said we were going to swing by the local English Center so I could have an interview with the director there. I didn’t really have any idea what this was about. After a very brief 15 minute meeting, of which I said maybe 5 sentences, I was signed up to teach additional English classes during the day in actual schools. It was a paying job which was unexpected, but also very quick. Baptism by fire. With no teaching certification and no experience commanding a classroom, I was set to have 4 classes per day between the center and the Workaway. Crazy. I taught two of the older classes by myself over the weekend in an effort to get up for the school gig.

Quynh took me on a special outing Sunday afternoon to see her home town and meet some of her family. Because we were still in the getting to know each other phase, and I was acclimating to the communication style, it was a unique experience. I came out of it wondering if it was an audition/initiation into the family that I was unaware of. Her brother had me repeat something he said in Vietnamese which I found out was “Do you want to be my son-in-law?” (because he was the patriarch of the family since the father passed away). We had dinner at one of her sisters’ houses where they gave me local whiskey and laughed at how little I ate. Finally, on the drive home, Quynh asked me if I wanted to be part of her big family. I said I could be an honorary member but she insisted I could only join by marriage. My heart paused beating before she said she was joking. But then mentioned she did have a lot of nieces.

Now, I think it was all an innocent thing. But before I knew her all that well, a decent part of me thought I was being courted.

Flash forward to Monday and I was thrown into the deep end by the English Center. I observed two public school kindergarten classes in the morning and was told I’d be teaching three of my own in the afternoon.

Let me reiterate my complete lack of teaching experience again. That combined with my…how should I say…slight aversion to young kids did not seem like it would produce a positive end result.

Also, my classes were all at Montessori schools which had syllabi. I had to create three lesson plans in two hours and make flashcards and such. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no concept of the games and songs the kids needed to stay entertained.

There was a last minute scramble to find everything I needed. In no way did that mean I was fully prepared though. I ended up running to the school to make it on time. When I got there, I was told there was a mistake and I was meant to go to a different class…for which I didn’t have the required materials. Even younger kids. Fucked.

It was a full blown disaster. Keeping the attention of a class that young for an hour is a near impossible feat. I have a new level of appreciation for pre-k and kindergarten teachers. I ran out of things to do after 20 minutes. I sweat through my button down shirt, and somehow my pants. It was a full blown disaster.

I can’t remember the last time I felt as uncomfortable and out of my element as I did that first day of “official” teaching. Thankfully there was a godsend of a TA in my 0-3yr old class that helped me along as best she could. But it was still rough.

My last class of the day went better but still miles below average. It was just 40 minutes. Still, I staggered over the finish line like an exhausted Iron Man competitor. Yikes.

Since that first day, things have gotten mildly better. I still don’t feel like I’m doing a good job, but I’m wearing an under shirt now so it’s harder to notice my sweatiness. And I’ve found a few different activities that help me stretch time. I‘ve also developed a good rapport with my night class students. They’re going well because it’s a chill and informal format.

The downside is I’ve had practically no free time to explore because I’m planning in the morning, teaching in the afternoon, eating dinner, and then teaching in the evening. And the grubby little buggers got me sick for the first time this trip.

I’m sure there will come a time when I settle into a rhythm and don’t have to take as much time to plan but it hasn’t happened yet.

The good news, is that my brother was here over the weekend. The weather left something to be desired, but we got to spend a day romping around Halong Bay and even won some money at the casino. Then we went to Hanoi and explored some sights and food. It was great to see a familiar face and pal around.

Before he arrived, he asked me about the bar scene and for once in my life I didn’t know how to respond. I’ve only had one real night out and it was down the block to a very local place where a friend of Quynh’s kept making me chug bia hoi (the fresh, unfiltered beer). She was hammered.

Maybe next post I’ll have more juiciness to report. For right now, it’s mostly flashcards and unruly toddlers with a light reprieve of conversations with Quynh/Hiểu and a visit from family. I’ll take it.

January 13, 2019January 13, 2019

Surfers Paradise & Brisbane

Even though I was only about 70km away from Byron Bay, I was in a new state and time zone. Queensland.

I didn’t do much research on this spot but I was able to find an AirBnB that was like half the price of all the hostels over the New Years period.

I found out why when I got to the house. I was in a shared room, which was just two mattresses on the floor. The kitchen was a mess, there wasn’t really any fridge space, there were…5 Brazilians living there and there was only one bathroom. Plus the place was hot as shit without any air conditioning.

I was intending to relax at the place but the amenities weren’t really all that pleasant. There was decent internet which was a silver lining.

One cool thing about Surfers Paradise is that there was water everywhere. There were a ton of random islands and inlets weaving all over the place.

I met up with Karalee (20yo Canadian), a fellow traveler I connected with on a FB Backpacker group. She was dogsitting for a family friend in a sweet house a block away from the beach.

We walked around the town and boardwalk while eventually formulating a plan for New Years Eve. There was a small group of other travelers from the same FB group that were interested in getting together too.

Everybody assembled at pool for a BBQ and hangout. I was the elder statesmen of the crew, which felt kinda weird. The next in line was a 25yo guy from India, then a 23yo German guy, 21 and 20yo German girls and Karalee.

Really pleasant people though. The mood was light and friendly. We had good conversation, took a dip in the hot tub and grilled up some sausages. Nobody was hitting the booze hard or anything. I actually got a 6-pack of Goose Island IPA to have that familiar taste of home.

As it got closer to midnight, we changed venues to Karalee’s place so we were closer to the beach for midnight. We marveled at the dog and played the Australian version of Cards Against Humanity to kill some time. The youngest German girl crushed us all, even with the language barrier.

We got out onto the beach and prepared for midnight. We were in one of the first time zones to ring in the new year. There was a decent fireworks show over the ocean. After the show, the group shared a few lessons learned from 2018 and some goals for 2019.

It ended up getting whittled down to just me and Karalee at some point. We posted up under a blanket on the beach and took a short nap before waking up for the sunrise. That was a somewhat popular idea as there were a decent amount of other people scattered along the beach. A few dudes even went for a chilly swim.

It was close to 7am by the time I got back to Casa de Brazil. All of the tenants seemed to be away so I zonked out for a while and pretty much did nothing until I had to catch a bus up to Brisbane the following day.

Brissy, Brissy, Brissy can’t you see?

It was time for another Workaway. The house was in a suburb about 40 minutes via public transport outside of downtown.

I was greeted by Lozz, the very gregarious host. There was also a pretty Colombian Workawayer, Carolina, that arrived a little bit before me.

Lozz walked us through the basic everyday tasks and was very loose and informal about any other stuff we had to do.

Our daily charge was to walk the dog, look after the chickens and tidy up the pool area. We had a few other random tasks here and there but nothing extreme.

Carolina and I tackled pretty much everything together. We also cooked some super solid vegetarian meals, as that was everybody else’s dietary preference. The chili tofu tortillas we whipped up were pretty dope.

I was helping her with English and she was sharing miscellaneous Spanish phrases with me.

We all got on very well. It was one of those situations where everybody felt immediately comfortable and familiar with each other. Lozz was so appreciative and positive about everything we did. Her kids, Ryan and Bri (30s), were cut from the same cloth as well. Just awesome people; really bright and energetic.

As far as exploring went, there was a day where I went to a Koala Sanctuary. The koalas (which are large marsupials and not bears) usually sleep for 20 hours a day but I showed up at the right time because the staff was changing out the eucalyptus leaves which meant feeding time. They were up and moving around which was cool to see. Super cute little things munching away. I also got to pet a kangaroo finally. And I was stared down hard by an emu. Unnerving.

I bussed downtown to wander around the city center and a few of the good suburbs. I went to the Gallery of Modern Art which was neat. My kind of museum.

In the evening, I met up with Jonathan, the guy I did Abel Tasman with back in NZ, and we did a touch of brewery hopping.

A few days later, I did a quick 40 minute walk up to the Mount Coot-tha summit, right by the house. Then I walked a few other suburbs, explored a park, checked out the artificial beach in the city and gave a few other beers a try.

Brisbane has a few unique things to offer that some other Australian cities don’t. It might not be as hip as Melbourne, or have as much going on as Sydney, but it still seemed like a good spot to be.

I was actually a bit sad to be leaving. I totally could’ve kept with the vibe and the people for longer.

Next up on the agenda was something tasty though. I was heading north to do a 3 day excursion on Fraser Island followed by a 2 day sailing trip around the Whitsundays.

January 9, 2019January 9, 2019

Central Coast & Byron Bay

I arrived in Gosford after an uneventful train ride and met my host, Peter, in the parking lot.

He gave me a lift to his place which was about a 20 minute drive. Insane property and house. Basically a mansion. It was 3 levels and I’m not even sure how many bedrooms. This was the first Workaway I’d done with fellow Workawayers and we all had our own rooms if that says anything.

There was also an indoor and outdoor pool. Huge bonus.

José (18yo Mexican), Leena (20yo German), and Luca (21yo French) had all been there for a few days already and were doing garden work starting at 7am. I, on the other hand, would be working inside helping Peter make some videos for his personal development business. He was looking to gain more of a following on social media as well as drum up interest for his year-long 2019 program.

It was back in saddle for me. Did I remember how to make a video out of nothing? I was working with very little creative direction and assets. That was the norm for the job I left back in the States. It was an experiment to see if I could still apply myself and harness the old creative problem solving skills.

We started by having a conversation about exactly what he was looking for and how he viewed his business. I had to some of his insight in order to utilize it in the vids. Plus I had to bone up on the whole personal development scene. I didn’t know any of the intricacies.

After diving into some YouTube clips and digesting the info session, we began the production phase. He had a daily series of videos called “For Pete’s Sake” where he discussed a particular topic a person could address to make an easy change in their lives. Sometimes he would take on a more controversial subject to get a rise out of people. His stance on the “traditional Christmas” that people celebrate was unique and hilarious. Likely offensive for the average person as well.

We started small by making a simple one and getting the look down. Once that was dialed in we cranked out a few more so the rest of the week was stocked up. Then I began to tackle the promo/teaser for his Odyssey program. That was the big boy because it was supposed to be intriguing, enticing and inspirational. And we had almost no footage of past success stories or anything.

Over the course of the week, I fell into my old pattern of spending way too much time on something to make it perfect. I overworked the hell out of this joint. I completed the requisite amount of Workaway hours in like 2 days. I even edited another video for him on the train after I left. Needless to say, I have a weird relationship with video editing. It’s an awesome exercise in creativity but probably an unhealthy level of commitment.

Outside of all the time I spent staring at my computer and pressing buttons, it was a fun time. Peter and Mel were both interesting people who were very accommodating.

The group went on a field trip out to this park with the promise of being able to see and pet wild kangaroos. When we got there, there was a lady who’d blocked off access because she was their “caretaker” and thought they were being mistreated by the public who was visiting them. The thing was, it was at the entrance of a mental hospital, so we weren’t sure if she was legit or just a random patient. It was a really strange and unlucky situation. We took a brief walk in the bush and ended up seeing a ton hop off from afar. I really wanted to see a buff ass, gym rat ‘roo but I’d have to save that for another day.

That was the most socializing the group did. Dinners were usually pretty quiet and they all went to bed early since they were waking up to work.

Everybody left on the Friday before Christmas. I had a different arrangement since the editing was working out. Peter and Mel were comfortable letting me stay for a party they had planned.

They hosted a few of their friends and kids for a day and night. It ended up getting pretty wild because they were crushing beer and wine like water. There was beer pong (undefeated) with some random streaking, a gift exchange with some scandalous presents and a late night swim and hot tub sitch. All good fun. Super nice of them to let a relative stranger take part in that.

I waited too long to book my transportation to the next place so I ended up staying on Christmas Eve and helping with more videos. They were also totally cool giving me a lift to the train station on Christmas morning.

I spent almost all of Christmas Day in transit. It was a gnarly 10 hour train ride followed by an hour+ bus to Byron Bay.

The only interesting thing about the train ride was that two super drunk dudes rode it for like 4 hours before getting kicked off because they didn’t have tickets. They were hammered at 10am when they boarded too, so it was mildly impressive.

I was told how nice Byron Bay was from a few different travelers. The added bonus was that Stephany and her friends were there too. That was a partially motivating factor to go there in case any holiday loneliness set in.

I woke up at the ass crack on Boxing Day and took a 40 minute walk up to the Cape Byron Lighthouse to see the sunrise. I think it might be the most eastern point in Australia? At least in Byron Bay. It was a pretty solid morning. I also got to video chat with some of the fam as they were opening gifts.

The main draw to Byron Bay is all of the beautiful beaches. I was determined to darken my shade of whiteness so I hit the sand in the afternoon (Main Beach). The trick was to not get burnt. And that was actually quite difficult because the UV index was continually at a high of like 14 – “extreme risk.” I used an extreme amount of sunscreen so I was safe after day one.

On day two, I met up with the crew at a different beach (The Pass) and chilled out. The water was insanely blue and refreshing. Beaches, man. They’re pretty awesome apart from the sand. I’m not the only one that thinks it’s a nuisance, right?

We all got cleaned up at our various places after getting our fill of sun and reconvened at the girls’ AirBnB for dinner. They went HAAM on buying food when they first arrived so it was one of those meals with a collection of miscellaneous sides that was awesome. There was promise of going to a brewery after but everybody bailed from sun fatigue.

I went back to the hostel and met up with one of my roommates. Philip was from Sweden and he was hanging out with a few guys who lived in the Netherlands. We all went out to a bar that had live music for a beer. It turned into several.

We changed venues to a place called Woody’s, a pseudo-club. One of the dudes was the most friendly drunk ever. Pretty sure he introduced himself to everybody in the establishment. Toward the end of the night he was going around and collecting half-empty drinks. Bold move. He has herpes now but he saved a decent amount on alcohol. Worthwhile trade off?

In the morning, I met the group at their spot again. We had a pretty solid breakfast and then went to yet another beach (Little Wategos). It was a somewhat secluded spot that also had a nice shady area for me to take refuge in after I felt the burn coming on. The sun variety, not the herp. I didn’t share any of the foraged drinks.

The Pass Beach
Surfers Going In
Little Wategos

It was everybody’s last night in Byron, so we planned to go to the brewery for real and then go from there. After a sunset beverage, they called an audible. I couldn’t take a two-day brewery tease with no payoff so I split from them and agreed to meet up later. I rendezvoused with Philip and we started walking.

We were almost there when some people heading the opposite direction told us they were at capacity and not letting anybody else in. Dammit.

We ended up going to a converted railway station. It was a super popular spot with a large outdoor area. They also had music on and the band was crushing it. They did pretty exceptional covers of Bohemian Rhapsody and Hey Jude.

Once the band was done, we met everyone at a bar called the Sticky Wicket where there was also live music. It was all relatively well behaved until things moved upstairs to the dance floor. The night seemed to end in a quick blur from there. We closed the place down and I said a brief and segmented goodbye to all of the lovely people I’d hung out with there and in Sydney. Then I went back and got terrible sleep in my sauna of a dorm room.

In the morning. I repacked my bag and hopped on a shuttle bounds for Surfers Paradise. This is where I would spend New Year’s Eve.

November 13, 2018

Fencing Relapse in Nelson

I hadn’t taken part in any fence building activities since the summer of 2004. It was time to get back on the horse.

That was pretty much all I was responsible for during my Workaway at Pete and Kyra’s house. Thankfully, Pete would be directing traffic — I was just “the muscle.” Aka good luck, Pete.

What I lack in bicep mass I make up for in…drinking beer?

To be fair, I dug almost all of the post holes by myself with a shovel and pry bar. Manually. As in, without an auger. It actually went pretty seamlessly. I think Pete was surprised at how much we got done across the 5 days. All posts set and cross beams bolted; on top of some general yard maintenance with accompanying runs to the dump. It was productive.

[Not Pictured: Everything discussed in this post]

My favorite thing about my time at Pete and Kyra’s is a toss up between a sushi salad we had for dinner (need to get that recipe) and Pete’s “go on then!” mantra.

They’re both fit and energetic people, so we ate a lot of tasty, healthy meals. My waist is a reflection of my diet while in New Zealand — I’m on a new hole in my belt. Withering away. Average weight, above average beer gut is probably more like it.

Anyhow, Pete and Kyra are British transplants to New Zealand. So anytime he was saying “go on then” it was essentially him being agreeable to something.

Kyra: Would you like some muesli bars?
Pete: Go on then!

Me: *Pushing a wheelbarrow of soil up a ramp onto the trailer*
Pete: Go on then!

Kyra: Let’s watch the poop program.
Pete: Go on then!

Yes. I’m not exaggerating. There’s a show here (The Good Sh*t) that followed a few obese teens who were in a drug trial that consisted of taking poop pills — literally pills containing bacteria from a fit persons feces. They were trying to prove that changing your gut bacteria would help a person lose weight.

There was an entire show about this. And I watched episodes of it.

I don’t know what to think. What I do know is that the results of the study seemed VERY inconclusive, if not outright a waste of time.

Moving on…

Apart from the odd television choices, they were great hosts with a comfortable house in a solid location. It was walkable to the Nelson city center. Even though it was only a few square blocks, it was by far the closest Workaway I had to civilization. At least I had options. I didn’t end up making it to a trivia night, but we did go out to a craft beer bar to meet some of their friends which was nice.

Timing is a funny thing. I was just thinking, this would’ve been a much better place to spend two weeks as opposed to Ngaruawahia. But if I’d done that, I would’ve been a week early in Taupo and probably wouldn’t have had such an epic experience on the Tongariro Crossing and getting that promo rafting trip.

Things work out. Sometimes with mixed success, as you will note from my trip into Abel Tasman National Park.

That post is on its way…

September 23, 2018October 18, 2018

Catching Fire in Ti Point

When I got to my Workaway in Ti Point, I had a brief moment of shock. Distance-wise, this place was not far, but it was just an entirely different set up.

The thing that drew me to this listing was the fact that the hosts were very involved in the folk music scene. But in this moment, as I was being welcomed by an under-the-weather Jenine, I was like shit – this is going to be interesting.

It was more unkempt than my rustic cabin accommodation in Pakiri. And when I got there, I remembered that I was supposed to be staying in a caravan in the yard. Ooof. With an outhouse too. OOOF. Thankfully, she ushered me into a room in the house, which was a good omen. There was some helpful introspective writing on the walls that I could consult in case of utter panic. Then she gave me a list of tasks for the week (one of the items was cleaning said caravan and outhouse). I dropped my bags and got started. I was trying to buy myself time to process the update in surroundings.

After a few hours of stacking wood and getting invested in the “Up & Vanished” podcast, I came inside and settled in. Shortly thereafter, Nat (Jenine’s husband) came home from work. He was awesome and immediately engaging and personable. That really set me at ease. The whole family had super fun personalities so there was nothing to worry about.

The second day I was there, I was woken up early with a bang on the door. “We’re going on an adventure!” …Ok. I finally got filled in that we were going for a morning paddle in Whangateau Harbor. Down. The weather was perfect and the water was like glass. The tide was in but the whole spot was really shallow so you could easily see the bottom.

They went out of town for the weekend and I was graciously allowed use of another vehicle so I got some good exploring in. A few highlights were the Ti Point Coastal Walk, Tamahunga Trail Hike, the view at Omaha Bay Vineyard and wandering around Tawharanui Regional Park.

As for the work, it was mostly tidying up around the property. I cleaned the caravan and outhouse (so many spiders) and did a decent amount of weeding. I got to use a chainsaw to shred a fallen tree limb into firewood and such.

I was also charged with getting their burn pile going. It had a bunch of old grapevines, dried branches and the aforementioned weeds.

I’m no stranger to a large fire. We’ve done this at my parents house a decent amount. And you know what helps get these types of fires going?

An accelerant.

Good ol’ petrol sounds good.

I set up two catch points and then found out that there were only 3″ matches available. Like only a few.

No problem. I got this. The first bunch petered out.

Shut the fuck up wind. Just for a second.

I was down to my last two before a deece flame began. Cool.

I probably could’ve let it go and it would’ve taken off. That’s the thing that gets people in trouble in these situations – patience. I wanted a good fire immediately.

You know what’ll do the trick? An accelerant.

Some more good ol’ petrol sounds good.

I put some in a small cup to make a trail. I had a real plan in place. And as I poured it, I thought about how good my fire would be.

So then, naturally, the flame shot into my cup and I caught on fire. Legitimately, my arm and chest were on fire.

Let me tell you something: this is why they spend all that time in elementary school ingraining “Stop, Drop and Roll” into our young brains. It works, guys. It really does.

After taking the yard for a nice spin, I stood up and rejoiced that I still had all my limbs. Then I witnessed the most beautiful and long-lasting fire anyone has ever lit.

[FIRE NOT PICTURED]

I don’t know what material Under Armor is using – because I’m too lazy to look at the tag – but I would highly recommend it. I had two layers on and neither of them had burn holes. Genuinely good news because I only have 4 shirts anyway. Wish I could say the same about my chest hair. That shit singed off in a weird ass pattern.

But don’t worry. To get some of my dignity and manhood back, I chopped the hell out of some wood.

September 12, 2018October 18, 2018

Workaway Be Workin’

Alright, I bought this one-way ticket to New Zealand. Now what? A friend had told me about this site called Workaway. It’s a site with a network of hosts all across the world that offer a cultural exchange. The basic rundown is that you can meet up with a local and do a bit of work (20-25 hours/week) in exchange for lodging and meals. Sounds great. Save money and get an authentic, everyday experience. Prime situation. For months, I combed through the site vetting hosts.

What was the location?
What was the accommodation?
What was the work arrangement?
Did the host have positive reviews?

There are a ton of variables. The work ranges from landscaping to childcare to teaching a foreign language. The lodging can be a caravan and outhouse in the yard to a rustic cabin [foreshadowing]. I’m pretty sure I saw a teepee/lean-to situation on one profile. All in all, it’s a ton of information to process.

So after doing all of this research, I lined up six weeks worth of work across 4 different hosts. Conceptually, I had a good idea of what I signed up for. But when you’re half a world away, you’re not exactly sure how it’s all going to turn out. I guess people were also taking a chance on me since I had 0 reviews on my profile.

Good news: my first experience was a success. I mean, I’m still alive and not buried in a random corner of New Zealand.

But really, I may have accidentally spoiled myself by picking the best place first. I had incredibly gracious hosts in Alan and Gill, a boss cabin all to myself [shadowing complete], and some pretty dope meals.

Here’s an Instagram story I made of the daily routine:

Soon enough, I’m going to be a wizard at all things yard/home beautification. Meh. We’ll see.

A big benefit to this work exchange is that once your tasks for the day are complete, you’re free to do some exploring. Buuuuuuut, what I didn’t really take into account was how rural most hosts are. There was pretty much nothing in walking distance of the property I was at, so it was a balancing act not to waste the day.

Thankfully, Alan & Gill let me borrow one of their cars. That was a whole experience within itself (everything related to driving is opposite from the US). So I did get to see some of the main haps in the area.

My first main off day was completely shit weather, of course. I made it to Pakiri Beach, which during low tide was probably the widest sand beach I’ve ever seen. I tried flying the drone and it was tilting sideways from all the wind. Bust. Next, I went to this marine reserve called Goat Island. Saw some birds that I’d never seen before — big ol orange beaks. It was a pretty place aside from the rain.

And finally, to cap the day, I did a very Nathan move and went to the nearest brewery. It was mid-afternoon, mid-week, so there weren’t many people. Plus — there’s a theme — the rain had intensified. Naturally, I got a flight which was $20 New Zealand Dollars ($13 USD). Kind of pricy, but 5 decent-size tasters. I rated their Bock the highest, 3.5 squirrels (per the Scott Toney system of beer rating). It’s gotta be something about the water here that creates a specific flavor. I’m still acclimating. But since I drink like a fish, I’ll be up to speed in no time.

My Saturday off was a totally different story — beautiful weather. Perfectly sunny day and low 60s which is warm for a New Zealand spring day. I went up to a place called Mangawhai (‘wh’ is pronounced as ‘f’). They had a decent farmer’s market that I perused, a butcher that was making dank ass grilled sausages and another brewery (3.5 squirrels again). I hit up some shops and then went to check out the surf beach. There were some bluffs with trails that took you up to the peak. An EPIC view I wasn’t expecting. It was windy again but a much better drone session.

That’s more or less my first week in Kiwiland.

The only drag is that I haven’t met many people outside of my hosts yet. I’m sure that will change in time. And when I get a little bit more outgoing in striking up conversations with strangers. Don’t worry, Mom. People here are nice and not threatening [second murder reference].

I’m onto my next host now after a good first run. Let’s hope the vibe continues!

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