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The sensation of a bath getting hotter by the second rather than cooler is psychologically invigorating.
The scolding water trickles from a board under my bum and up the sides of the tub. Like a frog slowly coming to a boil, I acclimate to the increasing of temperature.
How much more can I stand it? I think to myself.
I smile at the challenge, but I know I am not capable of boiling alive. Just in case, the cool tap water waits in the hose fixed above the bath. I close my eyes and feel a few more bubbles of heat swim across my sides as they rise.
Thanks to a massive cyclone that came through the area a year ago, I can see the stars rise through the brush. Three huge Nikau palm trees tower over of bath, and a few flax plants jut out of the ground. Several green figs wink at me from a youthful tree while ferns giggle in the breeze all around me. Above, the remnants of an old, dead tree reach across the sky like a skeletal hand.
Extremities transforming into wrinkly fruit, I watch the dusk slip into night.
The bamboo wall in front of me dances with the reflected light of the fire billowing just below. The crackle of the logs serves as the base for my night. The melody is filled in by the Wekas rustling in the brush and the Fan Tails making their friendly shrills (which sound like a dog toy with a squeaker in it).
From the warmth of the repurposed rainwater, I think about my week. Just days ago I left Motueka, where I spent a month working on the Mountain Apple Farm. I drove four hours to the west coast, staying in Westport long enough to realize I did not want to spend my one free day there. It was 4:30 pm on a Sunday when I drove through. Everything was closed, and the showers of rain made the small coal mining down even more dreary. I continued to Karamea (pronounced Kara-mia).
Arriving in Karamea
Karamea is the most northern town on the west coast. After driving an hour along the coast of the Tasman Sea, passing vibrant green hills flooding the base of the Southern Alps, I arrived in Karamea just in time to watch the
The Beach
Only a 20 minute walk from the property sunset over the estuary. Some will tell you that the town of 575 people lies in what feels to be the end of the world.
The town appeared to be fast asleep when I arrived. It was just after 6:00pm. Driving through, I only saw a few signs: one for the Last Resort, the swimming pool, and a Centennial Museum. The three shops and the information site (which is also the gas station) were closed. In fact, all of the lights were off, and I didn't even realize I have driven by them until later that week. As I continued down the main road, I passed a building with lights on and people inside. I did not see a sign, so I continued. Shortly after on the left corner of the street, the hotel was bustling. Four people congregated inside having a beer while one stood outside with a smoke. The hotel, it turns out, was also the only pub in town.
It was clear, after I made a left, that I had traversed the entirety of metropolis Karamea. Somewhere, in one of the houses was my French friend Agathe. However I had no cell service, and no
internet to let her know I arrived a day earlier than planned. I headed back towards the first building I saw with lights on.
Sure enough, it was the Rongo Backpackers. In the warm space, the common room filled with the savory aroma of multiple meals being cooked at once. The smells and the bowl of "free fruit" jolted me into the reality of how hungry I was. I looked around: A wood fireplace glowing in front of couches; a therapeutic bed of nails on an OTTOMAN; a piano. Yup. I could stay here for a night.
The reception girl, who was WWOOFing at Rongo's, checked me in and gave me the internet password for q one time $5 fee. She asked me where I was from, and I told her Alaska. Her eyes lit up.
"Oh! You are Agathe's friend!""Yeah!" I said, trying not to show how tired I was.
"I have heard all about you!" She said.
After she let me settle into my room, I messaged Agathe on Facebook. Within minute NAME, was back at the door.
"I think it is for you," she said handing me a cordless telephone with
a big smile on her face.
It was Agathe excitedly on the other line. I was invited to dinner at her WWOOFing host Tim's house
What a great small town welcome!
WWOOFing with Craig and Tanya
The next afternoon, I was back in my car. This time, I took a right at the T in the road. After about ten minutes of weaving between livestock paddocks sandwiched between the Tasman Sea and the Southern Alps, I arrived at my WWOOFing place for the next six days with Craig and Tanya. The change of pace made me feel like I was on vacation.
"Just wake up whenever you want," Craig told me. "You can help yourself to any of this food for breakfast."
He showed the stores of homemade muesli and sourdough bread, the organic peanut butter, and the coffee. They insist that their WWOOFers work four hours a day, the minimum required by WWOOFing. They told me to monitor my hours and stop when I needed too. At Mountain Apple Farm I was working anywhere from six to eight hours a day, having only one full day off in the month
I was there. Though the experience itself was rewarding, the hours could be exhausting. Now was my time to recover.
There was no rush to get started that first morning, which at first seemed unnerving.
"You are going to have a hard time adjusting to life in Karamea," I could hear Agathe Telling me. "Everyone works at the own pace, and no one stresses about anything."
When I got up at 8:30, Craig, who is also one of the school bus drivers, was off delivering kids, and Tanya had taken Jade, their seven-year-old, to school. So after breakfast I took out a book and read. When they returned, we had another cup of coffee together. It was raining, causing the morning to postponed a bit longer. Eventually, I went out and did some weeding and watering in the plastic house (Greenhouse). I also washed all of the windows inside. I brought in the night's firewood and chopped kindling.
The projects they gave me throughout the week were very rewarding. The same cyclone that gave me my view of the stars had also destroyed their old wood shed. In the past year, three trailers full of firewood
After and Before Photos
The wood stump never moved! had been left there, and weeds as high as my shoulders had grown. My task was to pull out all of the firewood and then all of the weeds. In this process, I found pieces of roofing, a gate, window frames, and a crushed bee hive. There was also a tee shirt, a wooden ax handle and a door and its frame rotting into the earth.
By the time I had finished, the transformation was astounding. What was previously a wall of weeds growing overloads of firewood, was now a framed raised bed full of rich soil. It was good to have a project where I could see the drastic result.
Later on, I was let loose in the vegetable garden and changed the jungle into well-organized beds, and weed free walkways. On Wednesday night, Craig brought me down to the radio station where he hosted a radio show. We stopped at the pub where he grabbed two beers to go, and then met Agathe and Tim in the small shed behind Rongo's. The four of us barely fit in the tiny, yellow-lit space. Show posters covered the walls and high angled ceiling, a large shelf made of
2 by 4's held thousands of records, and in the entryway a pile of broken players and other equipment were stacked. The room smelled of age, rain, and long, not so sober nights. An odd collection of knickknacks littered the area around the ancient computer and sound board sitting on the waist-high bench. Despite the dinginess, you could feel the love and energy that has gone into creating the space.
While Craig played his set of Reggae tunes, Agathe and I went off to catch up on our missed weeks. We sat in the pub by the roaring wood fire and watched the odd collection of locals take their turns at pool. Agathe had been WWOOFing at Tim's house for almost two weeks. Tim, who lived in town, had torn up his from lawn and turned it into a vegetable garden. Agathe had worked many hours in the garden and was now onto helping him sand and paint the house. Her and Tim had developed a good friendship.
Fire Bath, Massage, and Acro Yoga
On Thursday night, I first discovered the fire bath. After two hours of managing the fire, it was going well. My fire
making skills have improved since being in New Zealand, but they still need some work. After dinner, if finally felt warm enough to get in. When I came in, I felt as light as a feather. Craig had set up his massage table by the fireplace in the living room and was giving Tanya a massage. It looked like heaven. After her massage, Tanya went out and took my place in the fire bath with Jade. I took her place on the table. Later that night I then gave Craig a massage.
The next night, Tanya and I did yoga together. Just over a year ago Tanya had a lot of physical problems. She had a lot of back problems, couldn't reach the floor, and in a lot of ways was immobile. She randomly bought this yoga VHS at an OP Shop (second-hand store) and did it three times a week. A year later her life has been transformed. She is super strong, has great balance, and can even now do the splits. Herself recovery and determination are a complete and utter inspiration to me. I, of course, introduced her to acro yoga, and she loved it.
Friday
Look at those splits!
And the jealous Kiddo on the floor :) night, Tanya and I gave each other a massage exchange while Jade helped. Saturday I worked in the morning and then went off to explore the arches.
By Saturday night, I had the fire thing down. After dinner, I left it roaring and went off to find Agathe. She loves baths more than anything, and I felt a little guilty for not yet sharing my favorite past time with her. I found her and Tim at Rongo's participating in a "make your funny hat" night. Luckily for me, I was wearing my cow onesie. I put on my hood and went in.
After she had dinner, we went out to Craig and Tanya's and took a fire bath together. By the time we got in, it was so hot that we had to add quite a bit of cold water. The stars were out in mass, and the milky way streaked across the sky. We spent over an hour talking about all of the things we had learned while in this small town. Shooting stars darted across the cold night sky as we relax watching the steam mingle with the frigid nights' air.
It turns out that
a fire bath is to New Zealand as banya (sauna) is to Alaska, and out in the bush, everyone makes their own. Where ever I end up, this idea will be recreated on my property!
In a few days, we would be done WWOOFing and off hiking on the Heaphy track.
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Craig Stenhouse
non-member comment
Greetings from Karamea...
Hi Rebekah, Cool to read your blog...It was a pleasure having you stay at our place. Please remember that you are welcome back any time...Craig xo