Advertisement
Published: January 27th 2009
Edit Blog Post
First things first, happy Australia Day for yesterday! A day to throw snags on the barbie and drink a shitload of cold beer in the hot sun- why don't we have any public holidays like this in England?! I spent the day drinking hostel legend Mark's home brew whilst playing in a volleyball tournament- Team UK sucked but at least we beat the Germans!
My watermelon-picking plans in Canowindra never ripened and I'm now back in the Hunter Valley, but this time because it's grape-picking season, when backpackers like me who are desperate for money and willing to get up at 4.45am can earn $19 AUD (that's about 9 quid) per hour in the vineyards, sweating in the heat and snipping bunches of grapes off the vines.
As I first got off the bus in Canowindra, I was instantly hit by the wave of heat and what I previously thought of as hot weather pales in comparison to this place. And that was at 8pm at night. After exploring the local area, Canowindra can only be described as a one-street ghost town. No people were around and there was nothing to do other than drink an ice cold beer-
which you learn to appreciate more when it's about 35 degrees at 8pm with not even the slightest breeze- in the empty Canowindra hotel; the country pub I was booked in for two nights.
The watermelon-farmer-woman told me I could start the day after next, which gave me a day to explore the town. I soon discovered that a whole day was not needed, what with the only attraction being the dullest-looking museum I'd ever seen, which to top it all off was also closed. So off for another beer I went. Getting up at 5.30am the next day to start work hurt a lot, so I can't really express in words how pissed off I was when a ute pulled up outside the pub and a guy said 'you Chris?', before telling me 'we've got enough guys for today mate, maybe gimme a call later about tomorrow'. I'd got up before the sparrow's fart for absolutely no reason and had nothing to do in this dead town. Having calmed down and put aside the thoughts of finding out where this guy's farm is so I could set fire to all his crops, I remembered McWilliams winery had called
me the previous day offering grape-picking work in the Hunter Valley, with an induction just a few days away. Not only did this sound far more professional than working for some bogan-farmer-twat, but snipping grapes off a vine sounded a lot more appealing than lugging gargantuan watermelons off the ground all day. So I resisted the urge to go back to bed, packed up my stuff and got the first (and only) bus out of that shit hole.
With two days to kill and a long trip back to Sydney I had a couple of strokes of genius. Katoomba was on the railway line on the way back and I've been wanting to visit the Blue Mountains for a while. Luckily there was a bed available for Friday night at the awesome Blue Mountains YHA, so I first headed over to Echo Point, which is jam-packed with Asian tourists taking photos of the famous Three Sisters rock formation. Obligatory snaps taken, I took a a cable car ride and a steep mountain train down into the heart of the stunning mountain scenery before bush trekking along the Federal Pass to the Golden Stairs. My second and final day in
the Blue Mountains was spent slightly off the tourist trail, walking for about 4 hours through the breathtaking Leura Cascades and Gordon Falls then trekking back towards Echo Point via the 1000 step giant staircase.
My other stroke of genius was to take a Cuervo Tequila promotions shift at the Docks in Darling Harbour for the Saturday night, so I got back to Sydney for about 8pm, dropped off my backpack at Mandy's place in Glebe and got ready to start the shift at 11pm despite the tiredness from all the bush trekking. The shift was predictable but fun, with tequila shots selling themselves and me hanging out in a slightly seedy club with two absolute babes, giving out free prizes for tequila consumption. Venturing back to Glebe at 2.30am after walking Maria home to King's Cross was a bit more interesting- when I wasn't being offered weed I was being swung at in the middle of the street by a random Aussie guy who shouted 'lucky cunt' whilst nearly getting hit by a bus after I ducked his uppercut and shunted his drunk ass into the road.
Four hours of sleep later I was up and getting
on the coach for what I hope will be a big-money-earning return to the Hunter Valley AKA wine country. I've been here just over a week now and met loads of great new people also desperate for money now the grape-picking season is getting into full swing, with eight-hour days harvest labour work in the 40 degree sun expected to be the norm. With more wine and cheese tasting done, a few nights of drinking beer and goon to excess, and a champagne picnic with my fave Aussie girl, it's finally time to start grafting, getting up before 5am every day and helping make tonnes of Australia's favourite wine.
Hopefully I'll soon be blogging again as a richer man. Grape-picking action photos will hopefully be added at a later date and they should be pretty funny due to the ridiculous, illuminous yellow wide-brimmed hat I have to wear!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.047s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 8; qc: 26; dbt: 0.0256s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb