Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Afternoon in the Hollow
Having some time right now, so I figured I would blog a bit, not sure where this will go, I suspect all over the place. Petra, the host, is off to town to deliver salads. Some will go directly to businesses, others to couriers to be delivered to business far out of town. Even after only a few days, it has been fun to see how Petra's little business is run. She and her pal work daily in the mornings to grow and package. The WWOOFers help out where ever they are needed. Petra also acts as accountant which made for a enthralling conversation for some yesterday and an enthrallingly boring one for others. It seems some sales tax returns have been a bit of a nuisance lately. Her tax software has apparently not been performing up to expectations. She asked what I would do about it, I told her not to trust the software, she said she paid big money for it, I said have other people take a look at the returns, she said she is the only one around, I said, okay then, enough about that.
I have always wanted to live in a "holler." No, I do not mean that I would like to live inside a perpetual loud noise produced by human vocal chords. I mean that I would like to live in a small valley between two steep hills or mountains, which describes this place quite well. At its mouth near the main road, the valley is quite wide, but as one drives down the windy dirt road leading towards the action, things get hollerer and hollerer. First one hears sheep, then maybe some cows, then maybe a horse winnying, oh, and, of course, the birds are everywhere. The Doves tend to steal the show with their two calls of choice. One is what I associate with the quintessential noise that a dove makes, the other is what I associate with the laughter of a lunatic. There is one Dove in particular, known as "The Stalker" who has a hard time taking no for an answer. The only thing he seems to understand are physical barriers, and if they are not present, it should not be surprising to feel a sudden weight on your shoulder followed by the sound of laughter from someone with a very quirky sense of humor.
The Palmers' house is nestled near the center of the flat valley plain. It is surrounded by foliage that appears to be quite haphazard in many spots, but most of it actually seems to be deliberate. I say this because even the trees seem to all either be for fruit, nuts, or fire wood. Down a trail through the garden sit two camper buses where the WWOOFers reside. One is a 1952, the other probably early 1980s. The '52 no longer has the motivation to tour, the '80 is the supposed replacement. Heading the opposite direction from the house are the greenhouses. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the these were severely damaged by some high winds a few days ago. We did some work to patch them up, but it was not a permanent fix. The roofs will have many leaks until the insurance company issues a settlement and the final repairs can happen. Because of the recent earthquakes in the area (there was one early this morning that I did not even notice when I was sleeping) insurance companies have not had time to service all claims promptly, and so the claim for the green house will likely take longer than is desired. Unfortunately, also due to the high rate of claims insurance companies have tightened up their payouts, adding scrutiny to all claims and attempting to payout as little as possible. Hopefully things go well for the green house despite the challenges ahead.
The Dutch couple who were also WWOOFing here left this morning, bound for Nelson and then a hike through Milford Sound. Hopefully I will run into them another time. After a morning of work, I made some lunch and then started blogging. It was relaxing to sit on the couch with the dog and watch the horses stroll around in the garden outside. The days seem longer here, I think partly because they are, but also because the schedule isn't as tight. I'd probably get bored eventually, but for the present, it is top notch!
I have always wanted to live in a "holler." No, I do not mean that I would like to live inside a perpetual loud noise produced by human vocal chords. I mean that I would like to live in a small valley between two steep hills or mountains, which describes this place quite well. At its mouth near the main road, the valley is quite wide, but as one drives down the windy dirt road leading towards the action, things get hollerer and hollerer. First one hears sheep, then maybe some cows, then maybe a horse winnying, oh, and, of course, the birds are everywhere. The Doves tend to steal the show with their two calls of choice. One is what I associate with the quintessential noise that a dove makes, the other is what I associate with the laughter of a lunatic. There is one Dove in particular, known as "The Stalker" who has a hard time taking no for an answer. The only thing he seems to understand are physical barriers, and if they are not present, it should not be surprising to feel a sudden weight on your shoulder followed by the sound of laughter from someone with a very quirky sense of humor.
The Palmers' house is nestled near the center of the flat valley plain. It is surrounded by foliage that appears to be quite haphazard in many spots, but most of it actually seems to be deliberate. I say this because even the trees seem to all either be for fruit, nuts, or fire wood. Down a trail through the garden sit two camper buses where the WWOOFers reside. One is a 1952, the other probably early 1980s. The '52 no longer has the motivation to tour, the '80 is the supposed replacement. Heading the opposite direction from the house are the greenhouses. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the these were severely damaged by some high winds a few days ago. We did some work to patch them up, but it was not a permanent fix. The roofs will have many leaks until the insurance company issues a settlement and the final repairs can happen. Because of the recent earthquakes in the area (there was one early this morning that I did not even notice when I was sleeping) insurance companies have not had time to service all claims promptly, and so the claim for the green house will likely take longer than is desired. Unfortunately, also due to the high rate of claims insurance companies have tightened up their payouts, adding scrutiny to all claims and attempting to payout as little as possible. Hopefully things go well for the green house despite the challenges ahead.
The Dutch couple who were also WWOOFing here left this morning, bound for Nelson and then a hike through Milford Sound. Hopefully I will run into them another time. After a morning of work, I made some lunch and then started blogging. It was relaxing to sit on the couch with the dog and watch the horses stroll around in the garden outside. The days seem longer here, I think partly because they are, but also because the schedule isn't as tight. I'd probably get bored eventually, but for the present, it is top notch!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Arrival of the WWOOFER
So I arrived at the Palmers' the other day, the place of my first WWOOFing stay. For those that do not know, WWOOFing is agricultural volunteer program in which people provide help in an agricultural style in exchange for food and lodging. At the Palmers' the operation is hydroponic salad rearing. It is very interesting stuff. They have a greenhouse where greens are grown laid out in rows of plastic planks. Through the planks flows water which is infused with a fine tuned amount of the particular chemicals the plants need to grow. The seedlings are simply anchored in a small soil cube with their roots protruding in every direction. The treated water flows over these roots and gives the plants everything they need to grow. The whole system is managed by a computer which constantly checks the amount of chemicals present in the water. If anything is over or under dissolved, the adjustment is made automatically. Of course the computer needs constant supervision since malfunctions are not uncommon, and it cannot, of course, harvest the greens itself. This is where WWOOFers come in handy. Most of the 45 varieties of greens that go into the Palmers' delicious salads are cut three times before a new plant is needed. These cuttings are washed, mixed, and bagged before being delivered to markets and restaurants throughout the area. They are also a daily presence on the table of the Palmers, and I can say without a doubt it is the best salad I have ever tasted. So good is it, that myself and the Dutch couple also staying here have decided that we must expand the "Eat Ya Greens" business in Minnesota and also in the Netherlands.
After getting a tour of the homestead and learning about the salad operation, I was invited to join Ivo and Femke (the Dutch couple) for a weekend of backpacking in the mountains about 2 hours East. I was amazed at my good fortune. The hike was great. We climbed up through the forest along a river until we were above the tree line where is was quite windy, but we were able to keep our feet on the ground until we arrived at the hut operated by the NZ Department of Conservation. There we enjoyed some cards, food, and conversation before an early bedtime. Around 230AM most of the 20 or so people in the hut woke up to winds that seemed to be capable of picking our structure clear off the ground. Luckily they were not that strong, but they were strong enough to drive those camping outside to seek more permanent shelter and also to blow the shoes stored outside all over the nearby field. This called for an emergency shoe-collecting mission in which all but one shoe was recovered. We never found out what happened to that one with the missing shoe, hopefully they made it back alright. The hike back would not have been easy with one shoe, however. It kicked out in the still high wind with a hanging bridge crossing in which I literally feared for my life, although I do not think that danger was as extreme as it appeared. After that we were met with more wind and some spectacular views (think Lord of the Rings). We made it back to the Palmers' in time to take part in a dinner party which was great fun. Unfortunately, though, the high winds also hit their homestead, and the green house that protects the fragile greens was severely damaged.
This morning we lounged about before the Palmers went to town to see about materials for repairs to the greenhouse. I suspect that will fill our afternoon. Before they left though, we got to watching Youtube videos and Petra showed us the below video. It makes fun of certain expressions here in NZ where people say something is ______ as! _____ as what you ask? No one knows. But that is what they say anyway. Its a fill in the blank. Or perhaps Kiwis lose their train of thought easily, I'm not sure. Anyway, give it a watch will ya?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=606eK4abteQ
After getting a tour of the homestead and learning about the salad operation, I was invited to join Ivo and Femke (the Dutch couple) for a weekend of backpacking in the mountains about 2 hours East. I was amazed at my good fortune. The hike was great. We climbed up through the forest along a river until we were above the tree line where is was quite windy, but we were able to keep our feet on the ground until we arrived at the hut operated by the NZ Department of Conservation. There we enjoyed some cards, food, and conversation before an early bedtime. Around 230AM most of the 20 or so people in the hut woke up to winds that seemed to be capable of picking our structure clear off the ground. Luckily they were not that strong, but they were strong enough to drive those camping outside to seek more permanent shelter and also to blow the shoes stored outside all over the nearby field. This called for an emergency shoe-collecting mission in which all but one shoe was recovered. We never found out what happened to that one with the missing shoe, hopefully they made it back alright. The hike back would not have been easy with one shoe, however. It kicked out in the still high wind with a hanging bridge crossing in which I literally feared for my life, although I do not think that danger was as extreme as it appeared. After that we were met with more wind and some spectacular views (think Lord of the Rings). We made it back to the Palmers' in time to take part in a dinner party which was great fun. Unfortunately, though, the high winds also hit their homestead, and the green house that protects the fragile greens was severely damaged.
This morning we lounged about before the Palmers went to town to see about materials for repairs to the greenhouse. I suspect that will fill our afternoon. Before they left though, we got to watching Youtube videos and Petra showed us the below video. It makes fun of certain expressions here in NZ where people say something is ______ as! _____ as what you ask? No one knows. But that is what they say anyway. Its a fill in the blank. Or perhaps Kiwis lose their train of thought easily, I'm not sure. Anyway, give it a watch will ya?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=606eK4abteQ
Hosteling in the city
Day two in New Zealand, and I am starting to suspect that I will like it here. When I was a kid, I saw pictures of hobos carrying sticks laden with supplies wrapped in clothe. The hobos are the most respectable of the vagabonds. They are always moving, and they are always looking for work. The tramps are the next best, working only when the need be. Then there are the bums, who would rather beg than work. So when I was a kid, and I saw those pictures, I thought, “Wow, a hobo is what I want to be.” And so if things weren’t going my way and I got mad I’d say, “I know how to fix this, I’ll start packing my sack.” But by the time the sack was packed, I was next to cooled off and walking out into the Minnesota winter with only my favorite toys in a plastic backpack didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore, but the idea never left me.
Fast forward almost 20 years, and here I am sitting in a room surrounded by backpacks belonging to people from all over the world. They are bigger, more elaborate backpacks filled with electronic doodads and chalk full of clothing. They are everything a person needs to live wrapped up in a neat little package and when hoisted up onto the back, the sensation of their weight is surprisingly light. It appears that the idea I had as a kid grew as I grew into a more complex and organized entity until it had to cease becoming simply an idea. By the looks of it, the idea was either a shared, independently arising phenomenon or it was extremely contagious. I suspect the former. The travel instinct is ubiquitous. Everyone feels it from time to time, some more than others.
Who feels it the most? The hostel crowd I suspect, a unique group. Everyone is from everywhere and won’t be here for long, so there is a general atmosphere of friendly, open community. The kitchen is a great place to see the action happen. Strangers sit around the table eating various meals, some of the them quite gourmet and others simply made with the goal of getting a job done. Across the table flies information concerning, length of stay, date of arrival, aspirations, favorite destinations, ways to stretch the bank account a little farther. There seems to be no lack of canned, easy flowing questions, and no one seems to get bored of being repetitious because every answer is unique.
Despite some obnoxious snoring last night, I got a some good rest. After tidying up a bit and getting some fuel in me, I decided to have a walk to town to see the goings ons. First place I stopped was the Christchurch cathedral. I’m sure many have heard of the large earth quake that hit the city in September. There are buildings everywhere surrounded by fencing with signs directing patrons to the new location of the formerly occupying businesses. However, from the outside the cathedral appears to have remained unscathed by the quake, something I found surprising considering its age and architecture. From there I decided a city bus could provide a cheap tour of the city and a way to get to the ocean, so I hopped on the number 3 to Sumner. Once out of the city it was obvious that I have not even come close to seeing the natural beauty that New Zealand has to offer. Sumner is a little seaside suburb made up of a central business district down by the waterside and an odd patchwork of houses balanced on the surrounding cliffs. On this particular day it reminded me of Duluth in a way. After grabbing an ever popular meat pie (Yum?) and exploring a seaside cave, I hopped back on the 3 and made my way back to town. On my walk back I heard the music of a busker in a doorway. It was one of those happy songs.
Fast forward almost 20 years, and here I am sitting in a room surrounded by backpacks belonging to people from all over the world. They are bigger, more elaborate backpacks filled with electronic doodads and chalk full of clothing. They are everything a person needs to live wrapped up in a neat little package and when hoisted up onto the back, the sensation of their weight is surprisingly light. It appears that the idea I had as a kid grew as I grew into a more complex and organized entity until it had to cease becoming simply an idea. By the looks of it, the idea was either a shared, independently arising phenomenon or it was extremely contagious. I suspect the former. The travel instinct is ubiquitous. Everyone feels it from time to time, some more than others.
Who feels it the most? The hostel crowd I suspect, a unique group. Everyone is from everywhere and won’t be here for long, so there is a general atmosphere of friendly, open community. The kitchen is a great place to see the action happen. Strangers sit around the table eating various meals, some of the them quite gourmet and others simply made with the goal of getting a job done. Across the table flies information concerning, length of stay, date of arrival, aspirations, favorite destinations, ways to stretch the bank account a little farther. There seems to be no lack of canned, easy flowing questions, and no one seems to get bored of being repetitious because every answer is unique.
Despite some obnoxious snoring last night, I got a some good rest. After tidying up a bit and getting some fuel in me, I decided to have a walk to town to see the goings ons. First place I stopped was the Christchurch cathedral. I’m sure many have heard of the large earth quake that hit the city in September. There are buildings everywhere surrounded by fencing with signs directing patrons to the new location of the formerly occupying businesses. However, from the outside the cathedral appears to have remained unscathed by the quake, something I found surprising considering its age and architecture. From there I decided a city bus could provide a cheap tour of the city and a way to get to the ocean, so I hopped on the number 3 to Sumner. Once out of the city it was obvious that I have not even come close to seeing the natural beauty that New Zealand has to offer. Sumner is a little seaside suburb made up of a central business district down by the waterside and an odd patchwork of houses balanced on the surrounding cliffs. On this particular day it reminded me of Duluth in a way. After grabbing an ever popular meat pie (Yum?) and exploring a seaside cave, I hopped back on the 3 and made my way back to town. On my walk back I heard the music of a busker in a doorway. It was one of those happy songs.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Phew!
I have a few minutes left on my internet usage, so I figured I'd post before the alarm goes off (this post could end quite abruptly). I made it to Christchurch! 24 hours of airports and airplanes sure is not a comfortable lifestyle, although the people watching is top notch. There was a great photo opp on the way in but i didn't have my camera handing, sorry. Its pooring rain here right now. Times up.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Count Down = 2
Time has flown and soon so will have I, to Phoenix then San Francisco then across the vast expanse that is the Pacific ocean. I'll land in Auckland, the largest city in New Zealand, where I will take a breath and dive into another plane headed for Christchurch, the largest city on New Zealand's South island.
From there I will be at a hostel for a couple nights where hopefully I will recuperate from my travels in time for my arrival at the Palmers', the location of my first stay as a willing worker on an organic farm (WWOOFer). The map below shows my expected route. I was thinking about walking the whole thing, but at a predicted walking time of about 22 days, I am having second thoughts.
View Larger Map
From there I will be at a hostel for a couple nights where hopefully I will recuperate from my travels in time for my arrival at the Palmers', the location of my first stay as a willing worker on an organic farm (WWOOFer). The map below shows my expected route. I was thinking about walking the whole thing, but at a predicted walking time of about 22 days, I am having second thoughts.
View Larger Map
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