The Great Believers

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One beautifully sunny morning I was picked up from Picton by two lovely Irish boys in a van... Worry not, this was down to a prior arrangement and is not in any way suggesting that I am easily charmed by Irish boys!
It was supposed to be by two Irish boys and an American but the american had been lost to a (non sex related) ball infection. Or, at least, they promise me that it was all 'above board' so to speak as they had spent the last 4 weeks on a deer farm... also the boy in questions surname is Ball - the irony was not lost

Any ways, our numbers slightly depleted, we jumped in the van - named Gina, van Gina, get it? That name either attracts laughter or pursed lips. The drive through the Malborough Sounds and up the Pelorus Sounds is dramatic. A little scary in a van born the same year I was, especially with Conor of the 'Oh my God that's a deep gorge' fame (he nearly drove us off a bridge back in Queenstown, this holiday is requiring me to develop an Iron stomach when on the move).

The farm that we were heading to is in one of the remotest places in NZ.
And this is where is all got interesting. The boys spent much of the drive warning me that the family were 'a bit strange'. But I guess this is what happens when you are a family of devote creationalists with 10 (yes 10) home schooled children.
The farm is part of a scheme called wwoofing, where people go and stay and work on the farm in exchange for food and shelter. And boy, was there food! Kiwi's eat a lot of cake I'm discovering - which is fine if you're a boy and working on the farm. If you're a girl (whoes place is definately behind the sink) it's a recipie for bikini repellent. But it did taste oh so good.
So, as mentioned, in this time capsual of a farm, the girls place is indoors looking after the children. And making pickle. If anyone ever wants to know how to make kiwi and pear pickle please ask as I've made 12 pints of the stuff, which I think makes me a bit of an expert! So pickle making, fine, child minding... Well, if you have children and don't expose them to anyone except random travellers and the odd neighbour (meant in both senses) guess what? They turn out odd. If I ever have children they are most certainly going to school, in fact they are going to boarding school. My pain wasn't eased by being left totally alone with 5 of them, their clearly meonpausal and broken mother spent most of the day hiding in the back rooms of the house. Here's another fact for you - have children at home with you everyday for 28 years witout rest or respite and you will eventually crack.
So that was my days. Then came dinner. The men all come home stinking of various types of farming (they have mussle, sheep, cow and fruit farming all going on - plus chickens, pigs and lamas) and showering seems to be a weekly occurance. Then everyone sits down to a big family dinner. Which is nice, and mildly entertaining. Ever hear a guy who belives the planet is less than 6000years old try to argue that global warming is a goverment conspirecy to levy tax? Not that they should care, from what I could gleen they seem to not pay tax...
I was wondering why (apart from the views) the boys had brought me here. On the third days dinner I found out - a huge, huge bucket of green lipped mussles suddenly appeared as an 'appetiser' Oh My God! These were the freshest biggest mussles I have ever eaten. And these were ones that had had to be pulled off the line to allow room for the rest of the 1.2million mussles to grow. Heaven! (And I didn't have to renounce anything to get there!)

So all in all I actually enjoyed myself a fair bit. And have at least learnt the lessons of:
limit the number of offspring you have (probably 3 being the max)
send them away as soon as possible
there is never too much cake
don't bother arguing about the big bang theory with a creationalist, they're always right, apparently. (Please note, I didn't learn this lesson personally, I just had it recounted to me on the drive over)
mussels freshly pulled out of the sea are worth keeping your trap shut for!

So, 3 (very long) days later we set back off on the road but that can wait until my next entry.

p.s. did I mention they have a parrot? And many many other birds who think it's acceptable to fly around the house all the time. Birds don't like me, they can smell the fear. Try not swearing when a parrot attacks you, it's hard. Damn parrot.

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Comments

[Jessica]

Yet again my dear, another very entertaining entry. I thought you were never planning on kids anyway - I hope you have't changed your mind!