shoujo shuumatsu ryokou crunchyroll

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Welcome to the Manureshow: Island Edition

After Dunedin, we were pretty thrilled to finally get back onto a farm! Next up on the list: a fruit orchard in Roxburgh, a small town in Central Otago (the region… arguably one of people’s favorite regions in the South Island. Then again, we were told this mostly by people living there, so who knows). Oh, and it’s pronounced Rox-burrow… because the Brits influenced Kiwis’ pronunciation just enough to confuse us (we kept getting corrected when we’d say ‘Rox-burg’ and didn’t understand why. Still don’t, let’s be real).

The hitchhiking experts’ journey…

Anyway, first, we had to get there. We opted to hitchhike from Dunedin to Milton and then up to Roxburgh. Driving straight there takes 1 hour, 47 minutes. However, hitchhiking midday on a weekday was a bit more of a challenge. We got picked up at the edge of Dunedin by an old dude in a van (creepy sounding, eh? It wasn’t, don’t worry!) who took us only about 10-15 minutes closer to our destination. We waited from a while by a small convenience store (or ‘dairy’ as they’re called here) and saw some other hitchhikers get dropped off by a policeman. Competition!! Luckily, a mom and daughter (both absolutely hilarious!) who owned a sheep farm picked us up and drove us to Milton. At Milton, we had to wait for years in the sun, but FINALLY a retired policeman who just returned from traveling all over the world for over a year picked us up and drove us to our farm in Roxburgh. He had plenty of stories to share with us. A fun fact we learned: you can drink and drive in New Zealand; you just can’t be drunk.

Hitchhiking experts. Look at that technique!

Signage. We’re fancy.

Anyway, we finally made it to our farm. Before explaining the disaster we encountered, first let us explain how we found this place. We knew we wanted to go to Queenstown and figured going to a farm near there made the most sense. We’d been given a WWOOF NZ book (a listing of all the farms in book form, as opposed to on the WWOOF NZ website) by an Austrian girl we met in our hostel the first day in NZ. We contacted a couple from the website, but they weren’t able to take us. There was one listing in the book on a fruit orchard that said, “Will take everyone! No one turned away!” so we decided that would be our best bet. One problem… they were no longer on the WWOOF website. Ahh, but there was a facebook page address listed. We contacted the guy through that and he replied quickly saying, “Sure, come on over!”

However, as our arrival date approached, we’d developed some reservations about our decision, as the guy had been a little short with us in our recent interactions. We just figured he was having a bad day and was frustrated with passport problems he said he was having and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Back to our arrival– we found ourselves at a house with no signs of anyone being home. We knocked and noticed a faded sign to WWOOFers on the door, “Come on in! Make yourself at home!” So, cautiously, we opened the door. Oh boy was there a sight to see (and odor to die from) inside!

The first thing that hit us was the smell of stale cigarette smoke and just…filth. There was clutter and dust and disgustingness everywhere. We are in nowhere princesses and understand that farm houses are not the cleanest at times, but this was beyond comprehension. The hallway upon entry looked like maybe there was some attempt at remodeling (well, or a hurricane had gone through it), but it sat in disrepair. We cautiously continued deeper in, knowing full well that this is how horror movies start (dun dun dunnn!). The house would have seem abandoned mysteriously if it had not been for the kitchen that was full of dishes with rotting food sitting in them. The backdoor had been left open, and a cat (not sure if it belonged there or not) was trying to climb down into the trashcan. There were a couple musty, moldy looking mattresses in the living room, which we assumed were for us. Nothing looked like you could touch it and not contract a disease. It’s likely even breathing in that air infected us with something. No joke.

At this point, we didn’t know what to do. Wait for this guy to come back? Grin and bear it? Stay a night and leave in the morning? Get the eff out of there PRONTO? We opted for the latter option; ABORT ABORT!

An old hotel converted into a hostel? Yep, sounds just like the place we need for a night as refugees!

It was too late to try to hitchhike anywhere, so we walked back to town and found this HUGE red brick building that we said ‘hotel’ on it. LUCK! (We weren’t entirely sure if we’d find a place to stay, being that Roxburgh is a small town and were prepared to go to a pub and make friends with some friendly Kiwis…). Although Roxburgh itself seemed quite sleepy at this point, we found a bustling hostel full of foreigners, all temporary, seasonal workers at the orchards in the area. And we found a room for ourselves!

Our adorable little room. We noted on the absolute cleanliness immediately.

The Commercial Hotel-Backpackers, as it’s called, is straight out of a Wes Anderson film. It was originally a hotel and at some point had been converted into a hostel. However, there were still antique pieces of furniture everywhere. We made dinner and then hermited in our room with our Whittakers chocolate (NZ’s little secret) and began frantically making plans. We were supposed to stay in Roxburgh for a week or two… what now?!

On the floor… so fancy!

I mean, really, someone notify Wes Anderson. He might be into this place. (If only the lounge/front desk had still been open! Even better!)

That furniture… the love of our lives!

Deliciousness. Consider yourself jealous. You certainly would be if you’d ever tasted this magic. Mmmm.

The next day, we committed to some plans. We decided to hitchhike to Queenstown, 1 hour, 35 minutes away if you were to drive straight there. We also met the owner of the hostel, John Kerr, a wonderful man who, upon discovering we were American, told us all sorts of stories about America’s history that we maybe should know, but certainly don’t. It was impressive. We also heard horror stories about the orchard we ALMOST went to. So, it’s a good thing we didn’t go there… phew! Apparently everyone in town knows the guy and is less than impressed with him and how he (fails to ) run his property. Dodged a bankrupt, grotesquely disgusting bullet there!

So the lesson here: if someone is no longer on the WWOOF website, there is probably a reason. AND trust your intuition; if someone seems like an unstable poopface (based on the condition of his home, this is probably more literally accurate than we realize), they probably are.

TO QUEENSTOWN:

On to Queenstown!! (Well, or Frankton…close enough).

The drive from Roxburgh to Frankton (where we’d found a host for the night) takes about 1.5 hours. It took us longer, but we met a load of people on the way! John, the hostel owner, kindly drove us to Alexandra (both the hottest and coldest spot in New Zealand), telling us loads of delightful stories on the way. From there, we got a ride to Cromwell with a mechanic (or something like that) who had just moved to the area with his family. From Cromwell, we stood by the random ginormous sculpture of fruit for a while until a salesman/photographer from Christchurch picked us up on his way to the airport in Queenstown (Frankton, specificially). We charmed them all, but particularly the last guy who said we were probably the most entertaining people he’d picked up probably ever. WIN!

Trying to not get blown away! Though, at least the humongous fruit might catch us.

Fruit big enough to feed a giant!

A vineyard across the road… and I spy mountains!!

We got dropped off in Frankton and made our way to our host’s place (a helicopter pilot, which sounds like he would be awesome but was actually kinda boring). The view, however, was REMARKABLE. Figures, as the mountains there are called the Remarkables!

Looking from Frankton towards Queenstown…

Our first glimpse of the treat we were in for!

And so…begins our accidentally lengthy time in Queenstown. Stay tuned, dear readers!

We have spare time?! April 22, 2013

Although we only worked five hours a day while WWOOFing at Okuti Garden, our days started later than in Hawaii (usually around 9:30am) because the sun took a while to get over the hill and our hours (five a day) were spread out over the day (with tea time and lunchtime taking up a bit of time). But when we did get a free afternoon or had a day off, we tried to get off the farm and explore, usually to Little River and once to Akaroa.

A map of Banks Peninsula, which we only minimally explored (unfortunately).

Little River

It was a 45 minute walk to Little River and we did it only a few times. It’s a pretty walk, surrounded by rolling hills, Insane Clown Posse cows (trust us on this…they just seemed like the type), and scaredy sheep (they’d always run away from us when we just wanted to be friends with them!). In Little River, the tiny spot in the road that it is, there is a cute art gallery, a couple cafes and what seems to be an antique shop with some old bikes attached to the outside wall, but it’s actually not open; the owner just like to live amongst old things (or so we were informed). We secretly wanted to try to meet him somehow, but we decided to tone down our creeper ways and not stalk him. Dud… (for us all?).

The road between Okuti Garden and Little River (well, one of the roads anyway).

They farm deer here… umm… that’s a thing?

LAAAMB! Yeah, we are THOSE kinds of tourists… the type that take pictures of sheep. (Some kiwis were laughing about tourists doing this without knowing that we already had…)

SHEEP BUTT! Man, we are the ultimate creeps, all invading the poor sheeps’ privacy…

Little River antique shop that isn’t really a shop and is home to some man that we wanted to stalk but didn’t…

But the most delightful Little River activity is the pub! Jane had pointed it out on our way from Christchurch to Okuti Garden, and our very first visit to Little River brought us to the pub (well, once we figured out where it was) after a very quick wander around town. This was where we tried our first NZ beer and decided maybe the beer here is not so delicious and that we’re spoiled coming from the great microbrew wonderlands of Oregon and Colorado. (In retrospect, what is available on tap is probably the equivalent to our Budweiser and Coors… blech! Actually, it is slightly more drinkable. SPEIGHTS! YEAH! Well…kinda). And with our beer came potato wedges with a MOUNTAIN of sour cream on top. Okay, New Zealand… we see how you’re trying to fatten us up…ahem.

A half-decent beer (unlike the first one we had there) and some sour cream with a side of potato wedges!

The view from the slightly dirty pub window… and what most of our area of Banks Pensinsula looked like.

Random walks in the native bush in the area

Down the road from Okuti Garden is a walk into this native bush forest, which we did once and intended to go back and take pictures. It felt completely different from the yellow hills around us, as it was a bit rainforesty-seeming, with so many tree ferns (our new favorite tree). However, we kinda failed at going back, so no pictures for you. Just trust us; it was neat!

No need to fear deer crossing the road, as they’re pretty much just farmed and not wild. But as for birds… BE CAREFUL!

Akaroa

On our first day off, we decided to hitchhike to Akaroa, which is about a 30min drive from Little River (refer to the map at the top of the post if you’re curious where it is). It’s a French colonial town (although the land was also sold to the British at the same time) and charming. Naturally, it was also swarming with tourists and, as with most small towns in NZ, everything began closing at 3 or 4pm. Yay?

Akaraoa…quaint little seaside town

There are loads of walks to do, but we opted for the lazy day off experience by just wandering around by the water, admiring the cute cottage villages, balking at the price of food, and doing some birding (mostly seagulls and sparrows…).

Palm trees?! What is this?!

The lighthouse. It probably has a story, but we don’t know it.

It was pretty windy, but the weather was nice, so we can be excited nevertheless!

One of several piers…. oooh, ahhh.

The creeper seagull. Seriously… those eyes!

One of the many cute little cottage style homes/shops.

Adorable. (And, look at that! Oregon Duck colors!)

Some of the cottages were a little more… eclectic.

House sparrow… maybe? They were hopping all over the ground by our feet while we sat on a bench and read. Not so much native, but we don’t care!

White-faced heron that we just happened upon. And it did an excellent job posing for our pictures. Wannabe model heron!

There’s a bus that goes there, but it costs something absurd like $40, so we opted to hitchhike there and back. An adorable French couple, both of whom are living and working in New Zealand, picked us up and then a retired guy and a super young German couple helped us get back to Little River, and we walked back to Okuti Garden from there. Woohoo!

Perfecting our hitchhiking in NZ skills. Note the stance, the thumb, and the facial expression… well, we’re getting there!

And, yep, that’s really all we have to say about that. We thought Banks Peninsula was awesome (well, until we ventured further south and New Zealand really stole our hearts… you’ll see).

There are loads of walks to do, but we opted for the lazy day off experience by just wandering around by the water, admiring the cute cottage villages, balking at the price of food, and doing some birding (mostly seagulls and sparrows…).

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shoujo shuumatsu ryokou crunchyroll