Wwoofing at Ohiwa Macadamias

My how the time has flown. I’ve been wwoofing here at Ohiwa Macadamias in Ohope Beach for ten days and I barely saw the time go by.

My energetic hosts Paul and Anne have been fantastic; They’ve made me, and the other wwoofers here, feel right at home.

Anne, Paul and I at the Jazz in the Park concert in Whakatane (pronounced Fah-kah-tah-nay).

And what a home it is.

This 30 acre lot nestled in some hills some 20 minutes outside of Whakatane and edged by a salt marsh is home to not only this lovely couple, but also to a menagerie of animals. Their two adorable dogs Smudgy and Lenny share the space with three cows, 17 sheep, some 30 odd chooks (chickens to us non-Kiwis), and – much to the chagrin of the human inhabitants – countless rabbits and possums.


One of the roosters.



Smudgey and Lenny.
(Sorry for the sideways photo. I hate blogger's photo settings)

The farm also boasts an impressive number and variety of fruit and nut trees. The place is literally dripping pears and plums at the moment, and at various times of the year lemons, limes, grapefruits, quinces, nashis, bananas, and chestnuts can be gathered on the property.

Lemon!

Pears!

Quinces! (whatever they are -- they weren't ripe, so I didn't try any.

Of course, the main event here at Ohiwa Macadamias are the macadamias themselves. These delicious morsels won’t be harvested for some months yet, so I didn’t get to participate in the picking side of the process. Instead, I spent a few mornings of my time here processing them.



The nuts on the tree.  These puppies should be ready for harvestig in a few months' time.



Jean-Marie and Agnes, the other Wwoofers, sort the nuts coming out of the mechanical cracker.

A few of the nuts post-cracking and sorting.

Basically, we took some nuts harvested last year, set them up in the drying room for about a week, then cracked and sorted them. The cracking is mostly done by a machine with some of the stragglers who somehow slipped through intact tackled into submission by the WonderCracker – a heavy-duty nut cracker of Paul’s own design which makes quick work of any nut you place in its mighty jaws.

The WonderCracker artfully displayed in front of some macadamia trees. Order yours today!

The sorting, however is all done by hand. It’s time consuming and meticulous work, but it was gratifying to see the pile of “premium” nuts grow and know that I was helping a small business in some small way.

Alas, my time at Ohiwa is done. I take with me fond memories, a recipe for a scrumptious banana cake, some delicious fruit, and a mild addiction to macadamia nuts. 

Thanks so much Anne and Paul. Your kindness and generosity will not soon be forgotten.

There (Wanaka) and back again (to Christchurch)

It occurred to me the other night that most people don’t know the lay of the land here, and when I talk about certain places, you have no idea where on God’s green Earth I actually am.  So here’s a snapshot of where I’ve been over the past six weeks.

So, if you’ve interpreted my little map correctly (or if you’ve read the handy little title above), you’ll have deduced that I’m back in Christchurch. 

It was with a bit of a heavy heart, and a heavier bag, that I left Wanaka Saturday morning.  Over the course of the six days I’d spent at the filthy house, it had gotten steadily cleaner and cosier.  It really was nice having my own room, even if sound travelled through the paper-thin walls with surprising efficiency (I shared a wall with a Swedish “goth” couple, the female half who, if she wasn’t watching episode after episode of Two and a Half Men, was jabbering incessantly). And I doubt I’d ever get enough of looking at those mountains.

Lucky ducks

But leave Wanaka I did, hopping on board the 10:45 naked bus with no real idea of how long of a journey it would be.

I wasn’t bothered though.  One of my favourite things to do in this country is to just sit back and watch the invariably gorgeous scenery glide by.

This particular journey brought me through Otago’s Lindy’s Pass, with its kilometre upon kilometre of tussock-tufted hills and snow-dusted mountains.  The Southern Alps snuck into view around midday, and thankfully stuck around for a few hours. 

Mmmmmmm....tussocky.

At near 2:00 we had a rest stop and bus changeover in Lake Tekapo.  This delightful little town had charmed me and my travel companion last trip, and in the half hour I was there on Saturday, it had nearly convinced me to ditch the rest of the ride and make camp there for a few nights.

The main draw of the town of Lake Tekapo isn’t the, admittedly stunning, views (more gorgeous mountains? Ho hum), or the nice walks (Another amazing treck?  Yawn).  No.  The name of the place says it all.  The lake is what sets this place apart.

Just look at that water:

Have you ever seen, even imagined, water that colour?  Though it looks like the result of a chemistry experiment gone wrong, or some kind of awful environmental disaster, I can assure you, it’s not.  That’s all natural baby.

Well...that camera angle's not so natural.  Nor is my hair colour.  But the water is all natural baby.

I might mess up the science here a bit, but here’s what I remember from the explanation I got last year.  The rivers that feed into the lake flow down from glaciers in the Alps.  As those glaciers move subtly about, they grind against the mountains and create this rocky powder that gets carried downstream towards the lake.  This “rock flour” is so ultra-fine that it’s suspended in the water, and the light reflects off of it in such a way that we see that brilliant turquoise.  Pictures really don’t do it justice. 

The rest of the journey was rather uneventful.  The only thing of note was the interminable chatter of two Spanish girls sitting in front of me.  Good golly could those chicks yammer on.  In six hours of travel they were quiet for all of 45 minutes I reckon.  Most of you likely know that I’m quite the introvert, and I cherish those relationships where silences are comfortable and not infrequent.  When I’m thrust into a confined space with people who have never met a silence they didn’t fill, I get antsy.  Thank goodness for my ipod.

**Little tangent here: as I sit here writing this, the girl next to me has removed her shoes, unleashing a foot odour of a potency which defies description.  It’s distracting, and disgusting. Thank you for allowing me to share my pain.  And now back to regularly scheduled programming**

So, here I am back in Christchurch.  A few things have brought me back here, and only one is actually fun.

·        I’m slowly making my way north so I can be sure to be in Wellington for my interview with the University of Victoria on November 16^th.  (not fun)

·        My laptop battery has stopped functioning properly.  It won’t run unless it’s plugged in, won’t take a charge, and is steadily losing power.  I’m hoping to find a replacement in town, but given that it’s a Sony, things aren’t looking promising (definitely not fun)

·        I have to peruse the library to do some research for this stupid essay I’m expected to write for this course I’m enrolled in against my will.  A course that’s a prerequisite for a program I’m not even sure I’ve been accepted into yet. In other words, I might be doing this work for nothing!  Yay! (decidedly not fun)

·        The Black Seeds had a show in town Saturday night (fun!) and I went (double fun!). 

There’s a very good chance you’ve never heard of the Black Seeds, but they’re a big deal here in New Zealand.  They’re an eight-piece “dub” band I discovered during my last trip here.  On a whim last week I went to their site (and now you can too!) and looked up their upcoming concert schedule.  To find out that they were playing a few days later in an accessible location was quite the thrill.  The show was lots of fun, even though I was on my own.  I’d go see them again in a heartbeat.

It’s interesting being here during Halloween.  When I first came here in 2004, it wasn’t celebrated much at all, but in the years hence, it’s started to take hold.  Last night there were some disguised revellers out on the town, but not many.  Apparently some trick or treating took place, though most households didn’t have candy (or “lollies” as they say here) on hand. And no pumpkins  or jack o’ lanterns are to be found – not surprising given that it’s spring. 

So that’s about it for now. I've spent the last two (sunny) days at the library. I'm supposed to submit an essay on the 12th, and I figured I'd get it out of the way as soon as possible. Hopefully I'll have a first draft done tomorrow.

On Thursday I'm taking off for Picton and the next morning I'm starting a scuba diving course.  Huzzah!  I've been wanting to get certified for years and have never taken the time to do it.  I've tried to work something out a few times since I left Canada, but timing was never right.  Looks like it'll work out this time though, so I'm thrilled.

TTFN!

Cleaning up Wanaka -- well, a small part of it, anyway

It’s a great week to be in Wanaka.  The weather has been absolutely incredible and the weekend’s WanakaFest was a hoot.

I participated in a bunch of activities with a nice German girl I met at the hostel.  We got a little tipsy at the food and wine tent where we sampled some of the truly delicious local wine.  We watched the cardboard boat launch and the urban mountain bike race.  Most of all, we got a kick out of watching the “Perfect Woman” competition.  Before you judge me for backing a beauty pageant, hear me out.  This was like no pageant I’ve ever heard of before.  For one thing, it was sponsored by Tui, the kiwi equivalent of Molsons.

The 30 girls vying for the title completed traditional tasks such as cooking a meal and sewing a button on a shirt. They also had to do a number of less, oh, let’s say “girly” things, and that’s where things got fun.  They donned fireman gear and shot a target with a hose, they chopped wood, they drove a backhoe, they skinned dead rabbits with their bare hands, they opened beer bottles with various objects (belt buckles, lipstick, flipflops), they welded, they hammered, they scaled a 50-foot pole.  It was wild.

The long list of events the Tui's Perfect Woman contestants took part in.

The girls suit up for one of the competitions.

Competititors were aided up the climbing pole by Canada's own world champion speed climber.  This "Gingah Ninga" posesses not only three world records, but also a splendid name lifted straight out of a romance novel: Stirling Hart.

The rabbit skinning -- I'm glad I didn't see much of it.

Less wild is what I’ve been getting up to the past three days. I found myself an undemanding gig cleaning for two hours a day in exchange for accommodation. It’s OK.  It would be great, if the cleaning wasn’t so, how can I put this?  Intense.

The place in question is a former gym that was converted some time ago into a shared house.  I’m sure at one time it was a glorious place with its big lounge area, Japanese baths, stone showers (those are still pretty sweet, actually), big backyard and climbing walls. 

Buuuuuuut along the way it’s definitely lost its charm.  The owner is an Aussie who grew up in Japan and bought the place during her ski-racing days.  She only comes to town twice a year when the running of the place passes from one caretaker to the next.  I don’t know what the recent caretakers have been taking care of, but it certainly wasn’t this place.

It. Was. Disgusting.

The lounge, mid-clean.

The kitchen, pre clean

Soot, dirt, dead flies, grime, random socks, beer bottle caps, rolling papers: you name it, it was lying around. How do people live like this?

To give you a better idea of what I’m dealing with, it took me four hours just to clean the lounge, and cleaning the accumulated grime on the computer took a full ten minutes. This morning I started on the kitchen, and I think it’ll take two of us at least six hours to get that room up to liveable standards. Ew.

On the upside, it’s kind of rewarding to see the progress of this place going from pigsty to just dingy.  And I have a free room to myself (woohoo!) and free Internet (double woohoo!), so I figure I’m saving about $30 a day, which goes a long way. 

Another great thing is that by noon, I’m free to do what I wish, and the stunning vistas here are a great way to cleanse my visual pallet after staring at filth for a few hours each morning.

Mostly my afternoons have been spent sitting by the lake, enjoying the sunshine and a good book, watching the ducks and ducklings swim by, and marvelling at the scenery.

Yesterday, however, I was rather ambitious and set out on a marvellous hike along one of the nearby rivers and around one side of Lake Wanaka. At 16km, it was by far the furthest I’ve walked in a single session since I’ve been here.  I’m happy to report that it was mercifully flat, and other than the plentiful mountain bikers with whom I had to share the path, there was little to complain about.

By the river.

Would you look at the colour of that water?  Can you believe it?

Along the path.

I even managed not to get sunburned, despite the relentless rays.  Some of you may not know this, but NZ is the unlucky landmass that finds itself under the hole in the ozone layer.  The sun is very VERY harsh here. And with so much of the population being fair-skinned, and sunscreen exorbitantly priced, it’s no wonder skin cancer is such a problem here.  I myself had a mole removed after spending three summer months here two years ago.  I’m armed with lots of SPF 30, a wide-brimmed hat and a fierce determination not to burn (or wrinkle!) this time around. Still, I’m freckly as.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I’ll say a somewhat reluctant goodbye to Wanaka on Saturday, when I take off for Christchurch. That night I’m going to see the Black Seeds, a kiwi Dub band, in concert.  Check them out for yourselves. Should be good a good show.