Back to the farm..

Me and Becky have just arrived in Colignon – an orchard around 40minutes drive outside of Mildura - in order to complete our final 20 days of farm work to reach the golden number, 88! It’s all downhill from here, yet at this moment in time it still feels like an unbearably long battle.

At the time of starting the farm work, I had been in Gold Coast for one month. Not really long enough to decide if the second year was necessary but I saw an opportunity to do the work with my gal, who had been in the country and little longer than I had and therefore had less time to work, and so took it. The thought of farm work is horrendous, so why not ease it a little with company? So we moved to Shepparton and began the work immediately. It took us 4 months to get our first 68 days completed. It will have taken us 5 months by the time we finish.

The work is tedious and sweaty and gross. If I had my time over would I do the work again? This is a question I’ve presented to myself about 100 times over the past 4 days as I get settled back into farm life. But please allow me to clarify, that is not to say I regret a moment of it – we’ve had some fun, met some pretty awesome people and experienced a lifestyle I would never have imagined otherwise. However, at this stage, I’m unsure as to whether I even want the second year.

But, as I’m sure you’d all agree, to get to 68/88 days and ditch the idea would be ridiculous. You can use the second year anytime before hitting the age of 30 (which is actually scarily close when I try to make some sort of life plan for myself). So onward I go, currently working with pomegranates..

Much like the entirety of the human race, I really struggle with the periods of adjustment and change. After an interesting two weeks staying in Melbourne, I’m questioning why I would leave such an environment and such people to sweat it out for another 3-4 weeks. While in Melbourne, I caught up with friends from home, friends from Aus and got to know new friends. We travelled to some beautiful places, played stupid pc games and generally had a lovely time. And that is despite the expected frustrations of living in a 6 bed house with 14 people and a communal attitude I am extremely unfamiliar with as an only child (JOEY DOESN’T SHARE FOOD).

To add to this, recent events have occurred that really reminded me of the fragility of life and how fleeting our time here is. As anyone who knows me will already know, I absolutely SUCK at sticking out situations that make me unhappy. Which I often see as both a strength and flaw within myself. It has cost me a fair bit of money in the past, but I’ve always prioritised what I want to do and what will make me happy. This would probably be more of a strength if I really took time to reflect on what would make me happy, however chasing instant gratification and sense of security/familiarity is where I let myself down.

Which brings me to this precise moment. In the long run – I know that getting this farm work completed will not only allow me to have more freedom with future travel plans, but will give me a huge sense of achievement. But right now? Nah I wanna go back to a city where I can drive an hour and half to beautiful beaches, get a tram for half hour to bars and great food or enter the communal areas and just hang out with likeminded people.

One of the lessons that travelling will hopefully help me to learn is that everything in fleeting and changing and fluid. You can’t yearn for a time that’s gone because in reality, that time no longer exists. People move on, situations change. Even if I were to run away back to Melbourne where I’ve spent the past couple of weeks, I’d not have the same people to hang out with as employment statuses change and people move on for work. That’s not to mention that I myself would have to seek work at that point, as it would no longer be a two week break, but an ongoing situation.

So why is it that those rose tinted glasses remain to make me so unhappy and want what no longer exists? It’s the same sensation I’ve had time after time when returning home from overseas. Why is it so hard to do something purely for my own benefit in the long term? Instead, I want to chase things that make me happy instantly and probably set me further back in the longer term.

One can only hope that age or practise will help me improve on this one, because I’ve done a pretty lousy job up to this point. See you in the hot tub with champagne in 4 weeks when this trial is over.

Farm life

As most backpackers in Aus on working holiday visas will already be aware, if you do your part for Australia and put in some work, they will be kind enough to grant you a second year. That’s right a whole extra year! The requirements are that you complete 88days worth of ‘specified work’ which consists mostly of rural jobs, in ‘regional areas’ which is basically anywhere that isn’t a big city – for more detailed info check out: https://www.border.gov.au/Trav/Visa-1/417-

When we first decided that this was something we wanted to do, I trawled the internet looking for advice or reviews of certain areas and really struggled. So here is a little something based on my experience that I would love to share.

I’m currently at the point where I’ve lived in a place called Shepparton for the past 4 months, and have just got 68 of the 88 days signed off. That means that the majority of my year to date has been spent in what I would call a small town (though don’t say that to locals... they will soon correct you and let you know it’s a rural city!).

I feel like we have been blessed in our experience and know that we have had it easy compared to many – as an example of what I mean, Becky and I have worked for one company for the entirety of the past 4 months, the vast majority of this being under the same manager. A combination of making sure we worked hard, were friendly, were vocal about how much we appreciated the work and wanted more and to be completely honest, sheer luck, has made this happen.

So here are some myths I wanted to dispel for those seriously considering farm work:

  It’s 3 months of work

Not a chance. By the time we are finished we will have spent at least 5 months doing this work, which has been the case for most people we have come into contact with. If you’re a casual member of staff, which is highly likely if you are working on orchards pruning or picking, then they can only sign off days worked. This means weekends, public holidays, days where weather stops you starting work – these don’t count. For us, starting work in November and going until late Feb, there were more public holidays than would have been preferred (I mean really, Victoria, who needs a day off for a horse race?) but these broke up the chunk of work, and meant we had time to drive to Sydney for NYE. So I guess it is bittersweet, depending on your stamina for work.

Having said that – it’s not always that way; there are instances where you can get on contracts with companies and they will sign all days contracted (SPC in Shep is good example of this).

However, I still think a realistic mindset coming into it would be to expect to spend 4-5 months completing the work. If that’s starting to sound too much and not worth it anymore? Maybe you should just make the most of your 1 year.

       You’ll be surrounded by other backpackers/like minded people

The whole time in Shepparton we have met less than 10 other workers completing the work for visa reasons. The farms we have been working on have a steady base of workers who work there the entire year. They, understandably, get massive priority over the work available and the managers will often try to ensure they are kept busy. Who can blame them? You’re gonna be history in a month or two and they’re still gonna need people there to do the shitty jobs or the jobs that require a bit more experience on the orchard.

So, thinking of it that way, there’s only really space for you when there is unusually high labour is required. But because of this group of steady workers, they don’t need huge numbers, just some to increase the workforce. This isn’t to mention that many managers have a preference towards Asian workers, who typically work harder and are willing to work longer hours, for less money and don’t complain. That is not me being racist; that is just the reality I saw. So let’s just say managers aren’t scrambling to fill positions with backpackers. You’re going to have to put aside a lot of what you think is reasonable working expectations and just work as hard as you can when given the chance to prove you’re worth the try. Before I finished, I worked 80hours in 10 consecutive days, because I knew the work was running out and wanted to do as much as I could before it ended. (That said, please look after yourself with water and good meals – I didn’t and had a two day recovery period after where I was rough as).

Now – this WILL be different if you choose to live in and get work with a working hostel of course. I’m talking from our viewpoint and we did everything independently. Lived in a houseshare, found the work directly with the manager, got ourselves everywhere we needed to be.

       You’ll be able to save up money for travelling

Hahaha… this was one of my favourite misconceptions I came with. Out of the $7000 I’ve earnt here, I’ve saved around $2000. I know they aren’t awful numbers but when I think about the expenses I’ve had, I should have been able to easily live on $300 a week… So where’d the rest go? Well we’ve admittedly done a few trips to Melbourne and to Sydney for NYE, and spoiled each other at Christmas since we were away from family…

But the main problem we had is that the pay changed depending on the job you were doing. Thinning nashis, picking cherries, male pruning on kiwi trees – these were all contract jobs, paid a certain amount for what you do (i.e. a lug of cherries was $15-20). Then thinning kiwis, female pruning on kiwi trees and picking nashis has all been hourly pay ($21.61 minimum wage for casual staff). So despite having earnt $7000, it’s not been even. Our worst week to date had a lot of rain and not much available work and we walked out with $160 for the week. Whereas hourly paid weeks we’ve come home to $900+. I think this makes it difficult to save since you have to constantly sub yourself for the worse weeks. To sum it up – work is inconsistent, pay is inconsistent... these don’t lead to saving easily.

I mean my $800 speeding fines didn’t help the situation either… but that’s a different topic…

  You’ll be exploited at every opportunity

Now – there are many horror stories out there. However, if you take precautions to make sure no one is taking the piss (avoid working hostels and contractors if at all possible, who have different priorities to you) I honestly don’t feel like everyone is out to get you.

As I mentioned previously, you’re gonna have to leave behind your previous standards of reasonable working situations etc and go with the flow. There are workers out there willing to do it, so if you don’t, you’re not gonna start a revolution, you’re just gonna miss the working opportunity. It’s shit – but it’s the reality, so deal with it or don’t do it.

  It’s hot everyday

Okay so this is more Victoria specific than anything. We have worked days where we have finished early because it’s hitting 40+ degrees and then the next day not been able to go in at all because of rain. We’ve missed more working days for rain than sun that’s for sure. Personally, I don’t mind it because I couldn’t deal with either for the entirety, so mixing it up works for me.

All of that said and done – I have had such a positive experience overall here in Shep (despite speeding fines, some idiot busting my wing mirror off, tonsillitis, a broken toe and countless bruises). I’ve worked harder for my money than I’ve ever worked in my life and I really think that’s been a really good experience to have.

I’ve been working with many Punjabi immigrants to Australia who work harder than anyone else I’ve met in my life, some with their families and children still living in India. It’s been a humbling experience and these people are some of the nicest and most welcoming people I’ve met on my travels. We have really been embraced by them while working there, working through language barriers. Oh and not to forget they’re extremely honest, as I’m coming to learn is a recurring theme with Asians… My favourite quote: Paris you look good now! When you first came to this farm you had some fat *rubs stomach*. There’s a compliment in there somewhere right?

Even if I don’t end up using my second year (which is a serious possibility if they impose the 32% flat rate tax for working holiday visa holders) I wouldn’t regret the 5 months I’ve spent doing this as it’s something I’ve never thought I’d do and will be unlikely to repeat. I've learnt things about the world and fruit production in particular that I had no idea about as well as achieving some sort of personal development. If you can come into farm work with that mindset – then you will not regret it at all. However if you think you’ll work half-arsed for 3 months, save a ton of money and be handed another 12 months – my advice would be to just enjoy the 12 you already have.

Friday 13th

Diverting slightly from the normal Australian themed travel blog/counselling session - I wanted to get a few things off my chest regarding the horrific events of Friday 13th November 2015.

The first time I applied to go to university, I applied to study journalism. I enjoy writing and enjoyed performing arts – my eventual aim was to become some sort of reviewer or writer around this area. In order to see if it suited me, I arranged myself a weeks work experience in the local newspaper in my home town – The Chronicle and Echo. There is one experience from this week in particular that stuck with me and still influences the way I look at the news today.

There was a fairly high profile rape case in my town and I was lucky enough to be at the paper in the week that the sentencing happened for the rapist. So I accompanied the reporter over to the court room and listened to the retelling of the details. The victim was a young Chinese girl who had been thrown out of a club for being too drunk. This was when the predator saw his chance and led her away, eventually bundling her into his car and driving away to a secluded area and… well I’m sure no further detail is really needed. The part that stuck out for me actually occurred after the sentencing just outside the courtroom. All the local journalists from radio, papers and television gathered outside the courtroom and resolved as a group to forgo covering certain details of the case as they may affect victim sympathy. They decided as a group the fact the girl was Chinese and spoke poor English would change public opinion on the case. Now, I’m not saying their logic is flawed – the more cynical readers may see that detail and think it was a miscommunication or that somehow this justified the mans actions.

However, whether their logic was right or not… I was amazed – there was no leader or boss telling these journalists to edit their coverage and yet they were conspiring as a group to emit certain details from a story on their own. Imagine how much worse this censorship could become if there were powerful people involved? Politicians, leading business men, governments, people with real influence… Imagine a paper with a certain political alliance and how they could censor their coverage? These guys hadn’t had any of that and had still chosen not to cover a major personal detail of the victim.

This has always lead me to be a little bit cynical in what you read and take notice of particular angles or language choices. Which leads me onto the topical event that has inspired the retelling of this memory.

Paris suffered a devastating terrorist attack earlier this week which has been met with what I see on my facebook page as 3 waves of responses.

Wave 1: #PrayforParis

This was the initial reaction of people, who don’t know the meaning of the word pray, responding and thinking they were making some sort of difference or providing comfort with their hashtags and profile picture filters. I find this just ridiculous. When a friend of mine snapchatted about ‘the power of the internet’, I couldn’t help but laugh. What power? What difference do you honestly think you’re making? ISIS aren’t sitting at home panicking because peoples profile pictures have changed and fake sentiments were trending on twitter. What happened in Paris was just horrific and I’m sure we all condone the actions of the 8 men who found themselves inspired to blow up and shoot innocent people. We all want to help, we all want to make a difference and create a world where these things don’t happen. But while we all become keyboard warriors in these occasions and stay silent while our governments exacerbate these situations and argue about the refugees running from these horrendous men, we do nothing to help. I simply don’t know what the average layperson COULD do to help. Taking to the streets is a show of solidarity. Helping the victims and refugees is a show of solidarity.

I hate to break it to you, but following the crowd and social pressure to change your profile picture to a flag changes nothing.

Wave 2: Why is everyone shitting themselves about Paris when other tragic events occurred?

This was the wave I fell into. Having seen Beirut on the news a couple days before I was disgusted at the huge amounts of airtime Paris was getting. You’ll find a trend in this sense: if most of the victims were Shia Muslims? You’ll hear minimal about it and the language will be considerably less sympathetic and more ‘this happens every day’.  If white people are effected? Be it directly in the sense of white victims or indirectly in the sense of this is a location we use for tourism – it’ll monopolise the media attention and attract huge amounts of social media backlash. It’s mind-blowing to me that this happens. Are those lives expected to be at risk because of their location? Is it justified because of their religion? Don’t they deserve the airtime?

Back in June there were several attacks on one day around the time of Ramadan – the two I remember were the beach shootings in Tunisia and a mosque suicide bomber in Kuwait. The number of people directly affected (death toll + number of people injured) by Tunisia was around 40. The number of people directly affected in Kuwait was much higher than 100+. When I bought the newspaper out of curiosity the next day, Tunisia gained itself a double page spread, while Kuwait had a quarter of that – half one page. Now don’t get me wrong, I know that when British people are involved, it’s going to get more coverage. But the level of bias coverage and sidelining of Kuwait shocked me. The language used was different. The length of time it was covered in the media was different.

So yes, I do understand why Paris will be highlighted more. But was the extent to which this happened justifiable? Also, I thought this bias may be because I was in the UK. Because we were closer in geographic terms and probably political terms too… but even in Australia this bias is simply unavoidable and in my opinion inexcusable.

Wave 3: The news does cover it, you whingers clearly just don’t read the news.

Now if you’re going to act like a 13 year old child and take everything literally and at face value then yes – those proclaiming the other incidents weren’t covered are incorrect. The other events were covered. I won’t bore you all to death and repeat myself – I think the above paragraph argues this point quite nicely to be fair. The emphasis and treatment of different stories was hands down euro-centric and extremely biased towards white victims outside of predominantly Muslim areas.

But I do wish to address all those people arguing that this is fine and we are to blame as the news covers what catches interest and people simply aren’t interested in the other stories. I think the majority of people would agree with my sentiment that the news and media of this nature are supposed to be above simply supplying the demand that is there, focusing on turning profits and should just be reporting the events that the world should know about. I agree this is not the reality in the slightest, but does that make it right? Because, what I like to refer to as the uneducated masses, know no better than worrying about white faces and not others, should that be what our news coverage entails? I like to think that the highly influential and well educated people that run the media should be using their power to educate people about the state our world is in and help us to make better decisions in the future based on the mistakes we are making and the real world events that are taking place. Not add to the ‘us and them’ feeling that most people already have in order to make money.

The coverage we get is what leads to the xenophobia that is exhibited so widely and groups like the English Defence League and Britain First… The media is what snowballs an already tragic situation and raises the tensions between cultural groups.

I’d like to end on a favourite Spiderman quote of mine: with great power comes great responsibility…

…a responsibility that unfortunately our media does not take seriously and aren’t held accountable for.

The start of the adventure...

Another friendly face on the scene is one of my dearest course mates from university – Zakhiya. She arrived in Australia back in May and I don’t think she’d blame me for saying that her and Australia didn’t exactly get off to the best of starts. But that’s her story to tell, so I’ll just mention it in the relevance to my story… Ziggy (the nickname) left Australia after a few months to visit family in South Africa for a couple weeks to re-centre herself, figure what was going on for her and then come back to Australia for a fresh start. This is where I come into the picture. Me and Zig had been talking on the phone from time to time and basically making rough plans for her return down under. We decided that, hey, y’know what… we were going to enjoy Australia! I didn’t feel ready to settle down and work so soon after arriving in Australia. I wanted to see a bit of the country first and I wanted to encourage Zig to do the same – focus on enjoying Australia and not put the emphasis on working or finding a job so soon.

So here was the plan: Zig would arrive back into Australia, I would drive from Gold Coast to Sydney to pick her up and then we would start travelling together up the east coast headed toward Cairns by late-December/January time– settling only when and where we decided we had found somewhere we actually wanted to settle and work for a while. Sounds pretty sweet right? And the idea was if we didn’t end up working, we would just travel for less time with the money we had but completely prioritise enjoying that time! There is just no point being stuck somewhere miserably job hunting slowly whittling away what money you have, when you could enjoy your time with the budget you have and just leave if you had come to the end. That was the logic we were working on.

The drive down to Sydney from the Gold Coast directly was a monster 10+ hour drive. Let’s remember, I was picking Zig up in Sydney, so this stretch would be a solo journey. Now, back in the UK, I had happily travelled up to Lancaster/Kendal from Northampton alone in one go… a 3-4 hour drive (the time mainly dependant on your drive style). So I knew this kind of time was do-able and sensible and therefore chose to break up the journey into three parts.

Okay, so maybe I’m not being entirely accurate. The drive time was somewhat of a concern, but the main motivation was that I just wanted to get going! I was impatient… I’d been stuck in the same place for almost a month when I was supposed to be adventuring. But I waited it out, in compromise for the company and the adventure ahead. For the journey to Sydney, I gave myself a timescale of 5 days. I chose to break up the journey in Coffs Harbour and then Port Stephens - booking 2 nights in the first and another 3 in the second. YHAs were my hostel of choice due to their guaranteed parking and membership scheme. And then off I went…

However, I did not exactly do thorough research when looking at these places. Let’s start with Coffs Harbour. Coffs Harbour is a beautiful small town with a big roadside banana, many blueberry farms and good opportunities for whale watching. What wasn’t anticipated by myself was that the YHA was basically a working hostel for travellers working on blueberry farms in order to obtain their second year visa. This meant, come 6.30am, the place was basically desolate and then come 5pm, you should dream on if you were thinking of showering or cooking as everyone had just arrived back from their sweaty day at the farm. This would surely spell disaster for a solo traveller with no one around and nothing to do? Cue Lizzie – my company for two days who had simply decided that the second year wasn’t worth the three months misery picking blueberries. The farms loss was certainly my gain. I was lucky enough to arrive the night of a night food market, which gave us entertainment for one night and then the next day we went on a big banana hunt and a long steep walk to watch 5 whales! This was also the location I obtained topless back shot numero dos (see… we really were on a similar level). So, thanks to the company, Coffs was not a complete loss! The nutella and banana crepe was on point and the whales were incredible.

The next day, I partook the next step of the journey down to Port Stephens. The YHA at Port Stephens is not like your normal hostel – it’s beautiful. Set in the surrounds of rain forest, it is similar to the kinds of cabins I’ve stayed in previously in Thailand. Except that they’re not cute double private rooms… They’re dorm rooms. Something about this didn’t work for me. Even the kitchen was a ‘bush kitchen’ and there wasn’t a major social hub. The place wasn’t dead, but wasn’t the kind of buzzing I needed to meet people. The one girl I spoke to in my room had moved here to settle on the promise of work in the hostel – frankly, I thought to myself, I could think of nowhere more boring to settle. Had I thought Coffs previously was boring, Port Stephens was a whole new type of boring. To be fair to the place, there was probably more to do. But parking was difficult everywhere and nothing that was given to me as an idea at check in really resounded with me. The place is popular for dolphin/whale cruises – well I’d seen those for free in the previous location so why would I pay for an hour or so cruise for the same experience? And as for the location – there was simply nowhere to walk or get to without driving or taking a bus which was irritating.

The one thing I regret I didn’t partake in was the sand dunes – you can go on organised tours and sand boarding etc. If I had gone with friends or found some there, I probably would have occupied a day doing this. But as the only people I’d encountered seemed on a different level and completely content to sit at the hostel all day, I missed this. After staying one night, I thought to myself, fuck this. Why am I wasting time alone and in this shitty place when I can get one night refunded and check out two nights early. So I booked myself into Bondi YHA (a placed I’d dreamt of for years) and set of the very next day.

A trait that I love and hate about myself equally is that if I’m not happy somewhere or doing something – money becomes of little relevance and I’ll change it. It has gotten me in some messes previously – booking a flight out of a ski resort in France the day after my family left leaving me to no transfer or accommodation for a night being my most memorable fuck up. But it is this trait that really accelerated the next stage of this mad journey that took some unexpected changes in direction to be explored next time… I guess if I were to learn anything from this it would be:

Lesson number 3: do what feels right to you. If something feels wrong – change it. Everything happens for a reason in my opinion and you’ll end up where you’re supposed to be. Your happiness has no monetary value so if you’re in a financial position to sort yourself out – why waste a single day somewhere that you aren’t meant to be.

Surfers: Coz i'm moving on up, you're moving on out!

Before I begin: please forgive the M People reference but it was in my head and I simply couldn't resist!

First two lessons that Australia had to teach me… covered. Now let’s move onto some of the more fun parts of my time here so far! As previously brushed upon – Becky was a mere 190km North from me. That’s a 2 - 2.5hour drive. In the UK, you’d probably think about that kind of distance as substantial… but in the vastness that is Australia, this suddenly became entirely commutable. Add cruise control into the mix and the journey was hardly a hassle at all.

Mixed up emotions + seemingly easy journey + promise of friendly face and fun results in the manic first 3 or 4 weeks that I was in Australia.

Week one – meet in Brissy
Week two – me to visit Sunny coast
Week three – Becky to visit Gold Coast

That’s the simplified version of the crazy amounts of driving I did anyways. Now Brisbane – some say a boring city… and it doesn’t help that we ended up there on a Sunday evening as my birthday was the Monday. But I still had an absolutely fantastic time for my birthday there – drama free. We drank, met new friends, ate maccas and went to bed. What more could I have possibly asked for?

The reggae live band performing at our hostel bar was a particular highlight for me. Well that and Becky having a little drunk panic while walking to the second bar as she realised we were following three strange men, through the middle of a city we didn’t know, at 11pm, passing a shady looking park, which would have been perfect for an unnoticed rape. Not sure whether I think she’s suspicious or I’m too trusting, but you’ll be glad to know these three particular guys were harmless.

My visit up to Sunny Coast was equally drama free. I spent a lot of time at Beckys place of work eating pizza and waiting for her to finish working – visited some nice tourist spots like waterfalls, where we took the first of what I hope is many topless shots from behind in Aus, and sea life centres, where we learnt about sealions and made friends with sharks, as well as picking up a yankee buddy along the way.

Now… onto Surfers Paradise. Not as drama free as the previous meet up spots, it’s safe to say. Much of the drama, I won’t go into. Frankly because I’m sure none of you really want to read the intimate details of what we got up to and because you never know who is going to stumble across this in the future… Better safe than sorry.

For those of you who attend university in the UK, we arrived in Surfers just as the Aussie equivalent of tour kicked off. Students from universities all across Australia were gathering in Surfers to compete at sports, followed by getting well and truly wrecked. We certainly met our fair share of interesting characters; from little boys lying about their age to guys trying to force kisses purely for wanting to dance on a podium as well as the resident Aussies of the area who looked after us (well, namely me) when we were no longer able to ourselves.

Many people you speak to find Surfers brash and tacky. For me, Surfers was the first place and first time in Australia that I really started to let go, move on and have some fun! The first night we went out was the last night I incessantly checked my phone for any response from the SG boy. It reminded me that there is a bigger pool of fish out there so to speak (none from that week that I intend to ‘hook’ to continue the metaphor). I mean, I’m not really in a position right now to be looking for marriage so… game on right?

As stupid as it is, Surfers will always have a place in my fondest memories for this reason. It represents moving on: realising that you can’t change or control someone else’s behaviour, only your reactions to it. So why lets those reactions keep you miserable while they’re clearly paying no attention? I don’t really want a lesson from this memory – but if there was going to be one, I guess that right there would be it.

Oh and it was the first time I really danced in ages. Just got tipsy and danced like it didn’t matter. And that is one of my greatest joys in life. Drunken dancing… actually scrap that, any dancing!

So a big thank you to the many new faces that helped me move on to the next stage of my emotional development at that point. Most of you won’t even know what you’ve done – I mean damn in a month or two, you won’t even know my name in all honesty. But I guess that’s exactly why it helped…

A Friendly Face

190km north of Palm Beach, where I was kindly being hosted by family, who emigrated here 7 years ago, was my post-university housemate and somewhat soulmate, Becky Craven. During those early weeks where I felt lost and… well to be frank, shitty, having a friendly face so close was a definite benefit (though my bank account may disagree!).

As previously mentioned, I arrived in the country like 5 days before my birthday. For this, we arranged to meet in the middle in Brisbane – an hour travel for each of us, grab a hostel for the night and have a few drinks to celebrate. So off I went on my hour coach trip, excited to see her again after 2 months… and having felt so lost and strange over the previous days, the sight of a friendly face as she approached the train barriers almost ended in tears of absolute relief!

Oh my God, I thought to myself, if I were watching/judging you right now, I’d be laughing at you. How pathetic! You’re supposed to be an independent backpacker, leaving behind everything she knows to explore the world and you’ve lasted a whole 5 days before nearly crying at the sight of a friendly face! Yeah… real intrepid Paris…

Obviously, as you know from my previous post, my emotional situation was a tad more complex than that… but you’re always your own biggest critic right? Who doesn’t love beating themselves up from time to time ;)

Now travelling alone is never a concept that has scared or worried me in the slightest. As an only child who wasn’t entirely miss popularity at school, I kind of got used to the idea that if I really wanted to do something, sometimes if no one else did, it was better to do it alone than miss out! After my first solo trip to Rome for my 21^st birthday, I quickly realised that although you may depart alone, you’re never really alone, not if you don’t want to be at least. Anyone who has ever stayed in a hostel will support me in this I’m sure. Don’t get me wrong, there are hostels that won’t fit in with you… but you move on and you’ll find ones that do and when you find those it’s glorious. The freedom is hard to explain… The idea that you decide what you want to do, and the chances are that someone will want to do it with you. If they don’t – no loss you came alone anyway, but that feeling of not having to compromise or debate with someone about what you want to do vs what they want to do… or even worse… someone who comes for the ride and does ‘whatever you want to do’.

However, what I hadn’t accounted for is that sometimes, when you’re going through shitty emotions, you just want someone who knows you already. Knows what you’re like, knows when you’re overreacting, knows how to handle you, knows the backgrounds and sensitivities you have… which is what my blonde bombshell coming through those train barriers represented for me. Someone I could talk to and not have to explain why it had been so hurtful, or the behaviours that had led to this etc.

So this takes me towards another realisation I had about myself and life in general – wanting to spend time with someone familiar is not a sign of weakness and dependence. It doesn’t mean you couldn’t do it alone or you’re too scared. Sometimes it just means now is not the time for that. Previously, I would have judged others for not wanting to venture out alone because I’d never experienced that horrible insecurity of just wanting someone familiar by your side. I've drawn a bit a strange conclusion from this one... not necessarily your traditional life lesson but:

Lesson number two: be patient with yourself. Don’t worry about what others are going to think about what you’re doing and equally, don’t judge others as you never fully know what they’re working through. Sometimes familiarity and security are necessary and worthwhile and can help you develop more than beating yourself up about how weak you are for wanting it.

Welcome to Australia

So after two months of life down under, I have finally found time and inspiration to open up my laptop and capture some of the emotional whirlwind that this has been so far. Travel blog? Somewhat… Capturing all my emotional break downs and epiphanies along the way? Possibly… The only thing I can guarantee is that this is going to be all real and all me. This is new for me – I’d normally just stick to the travelling part, the funny stories. Those will come too! But I feel like this is such a rollercoaster and there are things I want to capture that fall outside of what I’d normally comfortably publish for all. For those of you who know me and don’t get to see this side of me for whatever reason, may I respectfully ask you keep all judgement to yourself :) We all make mistakes and I told you so or you’re a mug comments help no one and neither does unrequited advice ;) God it’s ridiculous that I even have to write that but here we go then:

I arrived in Gold Coast after 3 weeks in Singapore, 6 days before my birthday, ready to start my one year working holiday in Australia - the trip I’ve been dreaming about for years! The sun, the beaches, the cities, the partying, the Aussie hunks… All of it. The reason I’ve saved so hard and been religiously watching Home and Away and Bondi Rescue… and how did it feel? Euphoric? Too good to be true?

Nope it felt wrong. I was in the wrong place. I should be somewhere else... Okay, so perhaps I should rewind a little and fill in some more info for you guys.

I’d spent the previous 3 weeks in Singapore, where my Dad and his family lives, seeing a boy there who I’d met 6 months previously on a diving trip and had been talking to on a daily basis since. The last few weeks before leaving the UK, I’d barely even thought about Australia because of my apprehension and uncertainty about seeing him. But it was great! We went on a diving trip together (which he got me through… stupid seasickness..), we ate together, we stayed in fancy hotels together, we drank together. All seemed to be great until one day he just dropped off. He wasn’t interested in answering my messages or seeing me, despite knowing we had limited opportunity to actually spend time together. You have no idea how frustrating that is – I was infuriated! It’s one thing to ignore me when I’m halfway across the world, but when I’m literally 20mins away from your front door? Are you serious?

Now, I’m sure you’re thinking, great just move on. He’s clearly not serious? And yes you’re right I probably should have moved on. But I was invested and genuinely thought we had a shot at something… so eventually he met with me and we had the conversation that needed to happen about the future and how hard it was going to be. And don’t get me wrong, it would have been hard. His job would have meant he would be at sea maybe 6 months at a time with 1 month on land between. Add to that, the cultural differences: a Singaporean Malay muslim boy and an English Buddhist girl – doesn’t take a genius to spot where the difficulties could have arisen. That’s how I saw them though – difficulties. Not roadblocks, but difficulties. Turns out I was alone in this thinking – but we agreed to a little more time. Everything was about to change, I was moving to Aus, close enough for weekend visits, we had til December when he’d be gone with work to figure out if it was worth the heartache. So that was agreed upon after a long night talking and lots of chicken nuggets and cigarettes.

And now we are back up to speed as about a week after this, I flew out to the Gold Coast. The first few nights were difficult. There was nothing stopping me being with him, in the same country as him, before his job made that impossible, yet here I was in Australia? The guilt was real. The feeling that I was just in the wrong place was crushing at night as I try to sleep.

And as you may have detected by the underlying bitterness in some of my writing - after less than two weeks in Australia, yet again, he drops off the edge of the world. Things became difficult after my request for a Skype call on or around my birthday (I mean gee.. how unreasonable...) until one day just no replies - even to this day may I add. Should I have seen it coming? Yes! Would I change a thing I did? Well, maybe I wouldn't be so wounded a second time around, but that's what experience teaches you I guess. I wouldn't change a thing I did, but my emotional reactions will be different in similar situations in the future.

So my feelings of guilt and being in the wrong place were completely misspent. I feel like I robbed myself of that glorious 'finally' feeling I should have had, by investing too deeply in someone who didn't invest half as much. But this is what I realised: it doesn’t matter how beautiful the surroundings, how hard you work to get there or how privileged you are to be there, if you’re not living in the here and now, the present moment, you can always find misery.

Lesson number one: try not to concern yourself with where else you could or should be, but make the most of where you find yourself. I’m not saying not to dream of better places, but don’t dwell on places that you can’t get to right now. You do nothing but rob yourself of happiness this way. 

Goodbye 2013, Hello 2014

So thats it for 2013.. onward to 2014 with a new mindset. I'm sad to say goodbye to 2013, a life changing year that has truly taught me a lot. I just want to take a moment to share some of those life-changers with you and reflect on what I have learnt from them, and things I think you could probably learn too...

I had surgery
As most of you would know already, over the summer I was diagnosed with gallstones and, as a result, had my gallbladder removed. Simple surgery, nothing too major. However, it is the first major medical event I have ever gone through. Never have I broken a bone, dislocated a joint... I'd never even had stitches. Scared was an understatement - which explains why I disobeyed every doctor I came into contact with and subsequently delayed surgery by about two weeks. 
But I came out the other side. I had amazing support from my family, those with me and abroad at the time. The one lasting outcome of this event? I realised my own mortality just a little bit more. I could appreciate more the importance of looking after yourself. I saw that life is short.. too short to not say what you think, do what you want, be who you want. Illness and misfortune pop up with no warning.. the truth is that none of us have forever. 
So live now. You wanna go to Brazil? Buy a flight. You like that guy? Let him know. You wanna learn a language? Book a class.. there isn't always going to be a later. It taught me its better to fail or be rejected than to leave it until later. 

I attended a Personal Coaching weekend
I attended a free training event for personal coaching where we learnt and practiced coaching techniques on one another. It was all about self-reflection. Realising what you want and enabling yourself to get there. I'm not an overly ambitious person, and in the past have rejected to idea of goals, associating them with competitive career-minded people. But that weekend taught me that wanting something isn't enough, action is required and foresight. How many of us have ended up doing things we never thought we would do and it's just kind of happened? It's not where you wanted to be but you got there... Goals eliminate that. The hard part is knowing what you actually want and not what you are groomed to think you want.
My breakthrough moment was the realisation that I have been so conditioned by society, family and university into thinking a job and career progression is what I want. Ultimately, it's not. It may help enable what I want, but it's not the goal and in truth its not the only path to the goal.
I want to be happy. I want to travel. I want to live somewhere with a high ratio of happy positive people to miserable cynical people. I want to be surrounded by love, compassion and good food.

Something else I learnt here is that what we prioritise in our heads, the things we think are important, we don't always prioritise in our day to day living. How many of us would prioritise health or family? And how many of us prioritise that as an important part of our week? After work, study and other commitments, these things we think are important get pushed aside. Work life balance goes all wrong and work wins.. I realised I certainly need to actively make time for the things I think are important such as health, fitness and religion.

I lived and worked in Bali
There are many many things that those 11 weeks taught me.. but the biggest? There is another way to live. There are people whose work life balance is different. My societal and cultural conditioning is not "right". It's not "the one". There are many different versions of "right". You get a hint of this travelling, but you remain a tourist, not fully immersing. But settling somewhere different, even just for a matter of 11 weeks can teach you more than 20 countries in a year long world trip. 



The main thing I will take from 2013 is to question everything and make sure it fits with me - not that I fit with it. 
It's really been a life changer for me and if there are a few lessons I wanted to share with you all it was these:
-Life is short. Live now and do not fear failure or rejection.
-Life is unpredictable and can ruin the finest plans. Go with the flow.
-Take time to reflect and find out what you want, not what you're conditioned to want.
-Make time for the things you think are important.
-Lifestyles vary across the world, each one "right" in its own way. Find the one that is right for you.

Island of the Gods

Uluwatu

Backdated: 15th July 2013

So I’ve not blogged during this trip so far (nor for the few before this.. lazy me =/).. but last night I experienced something so extraordinary and strange to me that I want to record it for future reference and for anyone who wants to read it. 

Some background information – so I’m doing some research for university within a Villa Management company in Bali. I arrived at the beginning of June and will finish my research mid-August. At the point of writing this I have been here around 5 weeks – I’d say I’m mostly familiar with the parts of Balinese culture you encounter day to day. I understand the offerings and temples you see everywhere – I have even taken part in ceremony twice myself having borrowed Balinese Kebaya of a colleagues wife. 

At ceremony wearing kebaya

So one evening after indulging in tuna pepes and arak with the guys that work in front of house roles within the company, they invite me to join them to go to a temple for ceremony. Although I’m not Hindu, I enjoy the spirituality within the ceremony and the ritual itself. As I’ve told my closest Balinese friend here – you pray to your God and I’ll pray to mine. A couple of hours later we arrive at someone’s house – not technically a temple at all. However this house temple is supposed to be important/special somehow and once a month they invite people in to partake in ceremony. 

I’m kneeling down with my colleagues, completing the now familiar ritual by putting rice on my forehead and chest, when one of our friends starts shaking and grunting. The owners of the house stand up immediately and go to bring back the black and white checkered fabric that you see everywhere within the religion – mainly the small umbrellas and wrapped around the base of the temples. They tie two strips of the material around each of my friends arms and a more colourful one around his neck. When he stands, it is quite apparent to me that he is not himself. He has ,in fact, been possessed by the spirit of God, and is handed several sticks of lit incense to hold. 

Villa staff at ceremony

I must admit this is the part of the night I found most uncomfortable. As I reflect on the situation, I may have reacted differently had it not been someone I know and like so much. The noises and demeanour adopted by him once possessed made me uncomfortable – and yes I will openly admit that I got a bit overwhelmed and cried and asked to leave the room. We only left and sat outside the room, which was all glass anyway, so we could still witness everything. 

I think throughout the duration of the event 6 people were possessed, each acting differently. One woman – and the one that amused me most – just walked around very sultry, chain smoking cigarettes (I definitely have a theory she wasn’t possessed and just wanted to smoke – something I haven’t seen many women here openly doing). Another rather large gentleman would lean down over something burning, inhale the smoke then lean up and give a small speech and then repeat the process. 

Prayers

Everyone who was possessed got wrapped in either a white sheet of fabric around their waist or two checkered strips around each arm. The possessed people seemed to be able to impart their state onto other people – I watched my friend throw a metaphorical ball of energy at a woman, who then turned into the one chain smoking. Then she hit another woman on the forehead with the bottom of her palm and the hit woman screamed out in pain and started dancing. 

I must admit I was scared someone may touch me and I may become possessed – but I was reassured only certain people are born with the ability to channel the Gods this way. 

There was a cleansing ceremony conducted by my possessed friends. Part of it included opening a young coconut in order to drink it and extinguishing incense into it before drinking it. More likely to make you ill than cleansed in my western opinion – but then what do I know. 

 One of scariest and most unique experiences of my trip so far and one not to be forgotten in a hurry.

Koh Phangan

Backdated: 5th July 2012

We arrived in Ayutthaya train station at 12.00pm and then spent the next 30 hours either traveling or inside train/bus stations. It was absolutely knackering it has to be said. We met our first Americans of the whole trip – which may sound an odd thing to point out but there was a serious lack of Americans anywhere else is our travels - just lots of Europeans, Canadians and Aussies. 

Arriving in Phangan

So we arrived in Koh Phangan about 5 hours late due to various delays along the way as is to be expected of travelling in Thailand. We checked into our guesthouse and headed straight for the beach, despite the fact the sun was nearly set already. It was just a relief to be able to put our feet on sand and in the sea finally. 

We relaxed in the evening and called in an early night. The next day we got up and hired and bike (just one… after much deliberation, I finally decided to let Len drive). We spent the morning riding round, getting lost several times, visiting waterfalls. We wondered if we have even managed to find the first one at all, just a pathetic slither of water over some rocks. We scrambled up the rocks a little way to see if it was higher up but decided if it was up ahead it was too far. So we tried the next one. This one was more impressive than the first but still pretty pathetic! The lady at the waterfall told us that Phangan had no rain and all the waterfalls were pretty low. So we decided to give up on the waterfall ideas and just head to the beach. We were staying on Haad Yao, which I have to say was a lovely beach. We tried a few but that one was definitely my favourite. We spent most of the rest of the afternoon there, but eventually got bored and went to get changed etc and then try to find a view point that is marked up on the map. 

Exploring lush beaches

Unfortunately being the fool I am, I left the map at home when I was getting changed. Luckily Len guessed, and we did find a view point. Not sure it was the right one but it was nice. Stupidly steep – tried and failed to ride the bike up the hill and had to walk. Not really sure where the viewpoint was because the concrete ended and went to a dirt track we gave up walking up. So not even sure if we looked from the proper view point. It was still beautiful. There were no lights on the track up so we decided to head back before the actual sunset and try to get back to the beach to watch it. However this plan was ruined as the bike spluttered and gave up on us half way home. We knew there was nothing wrong with the bike so we knew we must have just been out of gas. Well… I say nothing wrong with the bike, but I think it goes without saying that the petrol meter thing wasn’t working. Another stroke of luck meant that some Irish people had also broken down further up the hill due to a flat tyre. One of them offered to go and get us some on the one of the two bikes that was working – a real life saver. 

We missed the sunset and so decided to treat ourselves to relaxing oil massages on the beach to overcome the stress. It was lush and we then went to get food on the beach but by the time the food came we were both half asleep and not very hungry. 

The next day we decided to rent the bike for another day and enquired about elephant trekking but we felt that the price was too high for the amount of time and considering that the waterfalls were empty so we wouldn’t trek to the waterfalls. So we went to Koh Ma and went snorkelling instead. Took a little while to get over water in the eye but it was really good fun eventually and cheap because we just hired the snorkel and didn’t go on a trip. There is a sand strip you can walk to get to the reefy bit. So worth it. 

My bucket of booze

We then just decided to ride the bike around and explore the island… great fun. We also booked our transport over to Krabi for the day after the Full Moon Party. 

Full Moon Party

Then we went over the Haad Rin early intended to meet a friend for dinner but ended up just completely lost and unable to find a commonplace to meet. So we just got painted and went into the party early. Buying whiskey buckets and chicken burgers. We then found our friends in the party – it was a really good atmosphere and we had a really good time early on. Unfortunately we peaked quite early and ended up home by 2.30.. FMP definitely something I need to try again haha.

A lesson learnt..Then learnt again..

Emotions and thoughts are accepted to be two of the most difficult things to control and change.. this is accepted to the point where, culturally, we believe we cannot. We have a myriad of different expressions and phrases in our everyday vocabulary that suggest this change is impossible.

I can't help it... It's just the way I am... 

While, personally, I don't subscribe to this belief, my ego outsmarts me every single time. It is a Buddhist belief and aim that we control negative thoughts, harbour positive thoughts and create an indiscriminate compassion for living beings - including oneself. Convincing your ego to be compassionate to you is the most difficult task of all - it is almost a completely separate and selfish being. I like to call mine Sally.

Sometimes when I reflect upon my life, I realise I have a tendency to repeat life mistakes. Sally has the uncanny ability to convince me that 'this time it's different' and everytime I buy it. Until later on all goes wrong and on reflection I realise it was the same mistake in a new guise.

You'd think Sally was supposed to be your friend.. instead Sally is like a wild horse that needs breaking. So here is a declaration of intent: I want to tame Sally. Convince Sally she is okay on her own, so she won't convince me otherwise.Tell Sally that pursuing what we want needs to be the number one priority and everyone and everything needs to fit in with that agenda.

Make sure that you are accountable for every decision made, every journey undertaken, every thought expressed, every moment shared, every kiss, smile and tear.

Bring on 2014

ah-YOO-tayar

Backdated: 29th June 2013

Me and my bike

Today was our full day in Ayutthaya, after arriving yesterday and grabbing some grub. We decided today we would either rent bicycles or motorbikes – depending on rental prices. We enquired: 80 baht (£1.60) for two bicycles for the day or 400 baht (£8) for two motorbikes for the day. Although when you convert it into English money, the motorbikes were a good deal, we decided to be stingy and sweat it out on the push bikes. 

We had already drawn up a rough route on the awful tourist map they give you here (there are no street names on the map so even figuring out where we were staying was difficult. I spent 20mins last night using lonely planet and google maps to figure it out and scribble all the names onto it). Our route encompassed Wat Phanan Choeng (with its 19m high gold Buddha), Wat Chai Wattanaram, Wat Phra Si Sanphet, Wat Phra Mahathat and Wat Ratburana. We had planned to do the two that were furthest away and off the island first and then basically work our way home, however we changed this plan on the advice of the lovely lady from Tour With Thai who told us that Wat Chai Wattanaram was lovely at sunset. 

Big Buddha

So we began by cycling down to the ferry port and jumping on the ferry that took us and our bikes to ‘big Buddha’. We were so sweaty and hot from the cycle there, and we didn’t have a clue where we were headed. Luckily for us it became a game of hot or cold with the admission fee collection lady. Every time we would head towards somewhere that was wrong she would yell over ‘helloa, big Buddha’ and ambiguously point in the direction we were already headed. We just kept trying until we eventually spotted hoards of Chinese tourists swarming around a doorway. It was the doorway that lead to the wihan housing the huge Buddha. I found the statue extremely impressive but couldn’t help but think it should be housed in a bigger hall. There was only about 3m in front of the Buddha where people were kneeling praying and the small entrance made it difficult to actually get in and appreciate the huge Buddha comfortably. After seeing the Buddha, we wasted no time and hopped straight back onto the ferry and headed towards the Elephant Kraal where elephants used to be gathered and trained for war. 

There is now a company who take abused elephants and take tourists on rides around the ruins with the elephants dressed up in royal outfits. Not sure how much I believe they’re ACTUALLY trying to do good as the elephants are still being trained to sit and pose with tourists and still be loaded with the chairs that I hear are bad for them. On top of that, it costs 400 baht (£8) per person for a 20 minute ride around ruins that you don’t want to see (not strictly true - I’m sure they’re nice but they’re not the important ones). So we decided, for all reasons listed above, to give it a miss and cycle on to Wat Phra Si Sanphet. 

Rocking the audioguide

After missing the entrance the first time and cycling around to Wat Mahathat and Wat Ratburana, we made our way back and found the entrance. We bought our entrance tickets and I purchased the 3 Wat audiobook (Wat Phra Si Sanphet, Wat Mahathat and Wat Chai Wattanaram). The guy on the audio tour made a point of saying ‘ah-YOO-ta-yarr’ really exaggerated every single time he said it. It was annoying and impressive in equal measures – annoying because the sentences hardly flowed and impressive that he didn’t forget for a single time the City name was used. As I walked around to all the stops, hopping from shade to shade, I found the audio tour to be really good value. Having not really read too much about the history here and not having time to visit a museum it gave the visits some meaning. 

Remains of Buddhas body

We then moved onto Mahathat and Ratburana, which were both lovely. On the way over to them, however, we realised that Len’s back tyre was flat so we decided that after these we would head back to the shop to see what the lady would say and also get a well needed shower. I must confess, after hearing the jet-ski/motorbike scams that happen here in Thailand where the company set up that the vehicle is damaged and then make you pay unscrupulous amounts of money for repairs, I was panicking that the lady was going to turn evil and insist we pay her hundreds of pounds for a tyre. However, to the credit of Tour With Thai, she just told us it was probably a thorn, there were lots of them in the historical park and told Len to pick another bike. PHEW! 

Buddha head wrapped in tree roots

After our showers and some dinner we set off for Wat Chai Wattanaram. Wow was that longer than I could handle… We ended up walking with the bikes for some of the journey, particularly the smaller roads and the steep bridge. But eventually we made it. Only to be told that the temple was damaged in the recent floods and we could do nothing but sit in the car park and look at it! We were there much earlier than sunset as we had allowed time to complete our audio tour and then sit and watch the sunset there. However it is fair to say we were shattered from the long ride and didn’t want to sit there forever waiting for the sunset knowing we had that journey back to do. So we recuperated for half hour or so then set of straight back. When we arrived back the lady instantly says ‘what are you doing here? It’s sunset now!’ and then laughs at us when she sees our exhausted and sweaty faces. 

All in all, our bike rental was a successful experience. We only had one collision – and that was with each other! We were on a roundabout: 
Me: is there anything coming or can we cross (the junction) 
Len: no we’re fine (2 seconds pass) motorbike (a second passes and I immediately start to brake – Len is still looking over his shoulder) actually nah, go! 
CRASH. 
Len: FUCK! 

Auditioning for 'house band'

After yet another shower (our third of the day) we head out to the same place we ate yesterday to chill out with cheap (and extremely strong) cocktails and a live band doing there audition to see if they could be the ‘house band’. They were good, as were the drinks and food yesterday. Chang house – if you’re visiting Ayutthaya you get much better food and service than other (nicer looking) places to eat on the street.