After Fraser it is fair to say we were skint. Actually, we were more than skint, we had finally resorted to using the credit card! We needed work and we needed it, well, probably a few weeks earlier if we're honest. In Hervey Bay we made a series of phone calls to hostels in the next town of Bundaberg, but one after the other said no, sorry we are full, try again in a few days yarda yarda yarda... On our 3rd day of trying we found success and said we would be there the very next day.
We were picked up and taken to our new accommodation at about midnight and quickly went to bed. When we woke up the next morning we were happy to know our private room came with private shower and toilet, but we were in for a shock. In fact, we nearly didn't stay as the place was in such a state I think my mum would have had a near heart attack if she'd witnessed it for herself. Four Japanese guys lived there and for roughly the eight months they had been there they must not have cleaned the kitchen or anywhere else once in all this time. The cream kitchen floor was a deep brown and the white (we suspected it was white) oven was covered in thick black grime and grease. The table and floors were a mess and the bin was overflowing with stale food. We had to make a choice to either leave straight away or clean up, so we gave in to the latter and scrubbed away, on our hands and knees, for the whole afternoon. When our new house mates returned from their day's work and saw us cleaning their mess they must have felt guilty because they helped out straight away.
Our first couple of weeks at Sunrise Court, as we learned our hostel was called, were pretty tough in all honesty. The first job we were given was cherry tomatoes. This turned out to be a shockingly paid job where one bucket of cherry tomatoes was worth about $6 to us (that's about 2 pound 50!) and which took about 45 minutes to fill. So in our 8 hour days we were making around $50 on a good day. Motivation was hard and morale was down, but for that first week Gem kept hollering at me to keep up, shut up and get that extra bucket or two full. So there we were, scrounging around tomato bushes desperately trying to make that extra $6, that we thought would make all the difference to our empty bank accounts. Dear o dear.
After speaking to our new work manager, Melissa, we, like everyone else on the job, were asking to be moved to something better paid. Within a couple of days, she said we could do Zuccinnis at Dickie's farm, where there was good money to be made. You would better know zuccinnis as courgettes, and while there may be money to be made, it's at the expense of long term spinal damage. To such an extent that after just 2 hours on the new job, Gemma and the 3 other girls who were also starting had to quit as the pain became unbearable. Having to bend over, up and down, cutting through sharp stinging bushes, cutting at the courgette, and heaving your increasingly heavy bucket down a seemingly never ending row, going as fast as you can (as the more buckets equals more money. No hourly paid jobs on these fields) while watching the locals bombing it down the rows becoming smaller and smaller in the distance and yearning to somehow be like them was my idea of a living nightmare. I would go on record as saying it is the hardest fruit picking job you can do, and sadly, one that only men, with sturdy backs, should do!
The following day we were doing big tomatoes for the same farmer, as zuccinnis was every other day. As if it couldn't get any worse, it was raining heavily all day, and the only reason the farmer tempted me out of the van in the morning was that he said for today only, it would be hourly pay! To protect us from the elements he gave us pathetic, black bin bags with arm holes in them and for the first half hour spirits remained high. By 8.30, damp and miserable, I was at the end of my tether, and it was only Alex who kept me on the farm as I was ready to walk. By 11 o'clock though enough was enough and I went AWOL, much to Alex's dismay. It was another 3 hours before he found me shivering in a ditch muttering incoherent babble to myself (ok, I might be exaggerating) but somehow he persuaded me to return, and we ended up working until 4 o'clock. Just to top off another fine day we had asked the farmer to call our driver to pick us up, to which he said he had done so but when it came to 5 o'clock and our driver finally came, he was wondering why he hadn't got a call and had turned up on the off chance that we must be nearly finished.
Alex persevered with Dickie for the next few days. while I was forced to go back to Melissa and say there was no way I could go back there and do zuccinnis, which meant I couldn't stay just doing tomatoes every other day. So she landed me a job at Hawkies tomatoes. More contract work and another real bad day. Firstly we were dropped off at 5.30 am and made to wait in the cold and dark for an hour untill light dawned on my new found hell hole. When light did break we were being looked after by horrible, shoddy supervisors who worked backpackers to the bone, wouldnt allow us a break, lunch or to even breathe! In fact one woman even went round after us inspecting our buckets looking for the tiniest mistake just so they could dock us the bucket and pocket the money themselves. Little did she care to realise if it wasn't for us backpackers helping out this understaffed industry she'd be on her hands and knees doing the job herself. Colour was of huge importance, just one wrong slight shade of green and you could say good bye to your entire buckets worth of $1.60 but if its taken you 10-15mins to fill your bucket you damn well want to collect that tuppence you've earnt.
One arsehole even tried to whistle at me like a dog to point me to a new row. Of course I obliged by yelling at him not to whistle but call me by my name, to which he replied in a patronising tone "I don't know your name!" so I retorted "then bloody ask me!" Much appreciated by the other backpackers yet I had made myself a new fan in big bearded Scrooge!
This is in fact a pesticide sprayer
but is very similar in structure
to the tomato machine
It was at this time, just two weeks after arriving that we were seriously considering our options and Gem was more then ready to pack her bags and go. But then something happened which actually resulted in us staying for the next 3 months...THE TOMATO MACHINE!! Dun Dun Duuurn! We had heard about a job on a tomato machine, which was hourly paid, but some said it was a myth, just an old legend used to lure unsuspecting backpackers to this deadbeat town. However, it turned out to be true and Melissa got us on it the very next day. Unfortunately luck continued to be against us, and in the next couple of weeks Bundaberg experienced more torrential rain than it had done in the previous year. We were still strapped for cash and the rain was the last thing we needed.
On a well earned break
The Toilets
Eventually the rain subsided and the work became more regular and we were finally able to start saving. The tomato machine was hard work but a doddle compared to our previous jobs. It is a great, big, hulking machine that looks something like a plane that would never get off the ground. On each side of the main vehicle, wings are attached which spread out over the rows of tomatoes and lower a pair of seats into each row. Our job was to sit on the seats picking away while the machine crawled down the row at about 1mph. Of course that is slow, but when there were tomatoes in abundance our arms would be flying around the bush like crazy, and it was sometimes hard to grab them all. The highlight of our day would be when the machine stopped to unload the tomatoes, giving us a break and the chance to rotate seat to seat or to being the spare person behind bucket picking up all the fallen and missed tomatoes behind. The supervisors were tough but actually refreshingly friendly. We got used to hearing the call "Less talking, no greens and two hands in the bush". The job continued over the next couple of months and at the end of July we made over $800 in one week for a 60 hour week.
Tomato fields ready for a good pruning
By August our run on the tomato machine had ended as we had stripped the bushes of all the tomatoes that were left. Luckily, we were needed to begin pruning the next lot of bushes that would not be ready for another couple of months. Pruning, a bit like zuccinnis, involved a lot of bending over as the tomato plants were brand new, but without any buckets to heave around the field it wasn't as painful. In fact Gem thrived on this and became quite speedy, gaining respect from the locals and settling in until they all pretty much knew her by her first name (which doesn't happen to much between locals and backpackers) or her nickname to a few (Good ole Kerrie in particular) as Sexy Legs!
Bob, Sexy Legs, Kerrie & Ivy Last day for us Willing Workers
The worst thing about pruning was the hours. Due to the heat you could only prune in the morning and it wasn't always every day, so the money dried up to an extent. In the end we were forced to find other jobs we could do on our days off to make up a decent weekly wage. Unfortunately the only options open to us were cherry tomatoes or Hawkies. In this case cherry tomatoes were the tomato of choice, but by this time we had been softened up by 2 months of sitting down on a comfortable hourly wage. Unlike before, where we scrounged around looking to make that extra $6, after just two hours of measly pickings, Gem, and about 7 others, staged a mass walkout and refused to pick as it was a waste of time. I and 4 others decided to stay and it paid off as the farmer decided to move us to another bush that was plentiful, and I made a good days pay. Gem maintains that it was only because so many left that day that the rest of us were moved to the better bushes, so apparantly I have her to thank. The next day we had to go back to Hawkies, and although the money remained paltry we were pleasantly surprised to learn that the previous supervisors had been sacked, and although Gem still tried to walk off again with a couple of others, came back after some pleading from me, and the extra cash came in handy.
The end of our spell at Sunrise was, like when we arrived, pretty difficult, especially for Gem who was desperate to leave, but I convinced her to stay for an extra couple of weeks to top up the bank accounts for our future travels. In fact, I think Gem might have gone completely crazy if it weren't for all the friends we made during our time here. Sunrise, unlike most other hostels, was divided up into 5 apartment buildings which held about 30 people in total, so it was quite easy to get to know who was staying there.
The four Japanese guys who were there when we arrived, although messy, were all nice, but their English was not that strong and they left within two weeks of us arriving, so we did not get to know them that well. In the first few weeks we got to know the people who we were working with better, such as Lee, the mad motor mouth Englishman who made the duracel bunny look lazy!
We also got to know some of the Korean people who were staying there, and like all other Koreans we met, they turned out to be good people. Erin and Julie (left), on first meeting Gemma, described her as "pure" Ha Ha! They soon approached Gem and asked her to help them with their English by giving private tutorials, and they even insisted on paying! I told you, we love Koreans! Through this a good friendship was forged, and we regularly shared meals together, with them cooking up some gorgeous Korean dishes, while we would cook them Fajitas, Bolognese, Beef Strogonoff.... Typical English food, but they never complained anyhow! Of these two, Julie was the sensible, shy one, while Erin was a bit more mad! She had a good grasp of wit in the English language, but was also a bit scatty and not the most punctual student (we got to used to hearing her say "back in 5 minutes" and then not seeing her for the next hour). During lessons Gem would teach her that she had a "mischievious" sense of humour, while I taught her that if someone was a coward they were a "pussy"! Valuable words I think.
Good use of prop Julie!
Soon after the Japanese guys moved out, Will from Korea moved in. Unfortunately his back couldn't handle the pain of having to bend down and pick capsicums (peppers) all day and so he left after 3 weeks. Another great guy who was also a good cook and even though he tried to teach us Korean style food, we still can't make it as nice as his.
By the middle of June we got a new set of house mates who we would spend the next 2 and a half months living with. The first to arrive was Martin, from Romford Essex, who turned up pissed and stoned (and very smiley!) and we really weren't sure what to make of him, but he actually turned out to be a well chilled out guy. Unfortunately he supports Spurs. Next to arrive was Stephane (aka casanova) the crazy belgian, who one minute liked his peace, quiet and solitude and the next was woo-hooing like a mad cowboy. Soon, we got used to his mood swings and took them with a pinch of salt. A day later, Kei, a Japanese guy arrived, and fortunately his English was good, though he never could get his mouth around the difference between curve and carve, much to our amusement. More fortunately, he was also another good Asian cook, so we got to taste some more great food and also discover the secret of Mirin. We all got on well and in true family style, there was only the odd hiccup along the way.
We didn't know what to make of this Roomies: Martin, Me, Al, Kei & Stephane
guy when he turned up, luckily
he mellowed out - Phew!
This was about the best smile we could get
out of Erin, as she doesn't like showing
her teeth in photo's!
Gem with 'Uncle' Martin Bargara beach at sunset
Through working on the Tomato machine we got to know paractically practically everyone who stayed there. In our attempts to let off some steam after the long hot days in the fields, we would often have house or beach parties, or go to the one club in Bundaberg on a Saturday night. Oddly, our hostel was plonked right in the middle of a nice, rich neighbourhood by the sea front, and officially we had a 10 o clock curfew. However, some of our house parties went on in to the early hours and we upset the neighbours on a couple of occasions, with the police coming round asking us to quieten down a bit. The presence of the police though just gave Stephane an excuse to practise his english and offer the police a drink and ask "Are you a gen-uine cop?".
Merciless Kei. Go on Kei! Grrrr!!
By the end of July, many people in the hostel, from the other rooms, began to leave, which just made the rest of us jealous. Within a week they were replaced with new people who we actually got to know even better. But by the end of August these people were also ready to leave and so we staged a series of going away parties, which either involved food or, as Nikki would insist on her last night, a bonfire down at the beach under the clear sky and a moon which turned red during a full lunar eclipse. All these parties though did share one common theme...alcohol of course!
Mama Mia! Ricardo and his dishes Jolly, Jolly, Jo-lly, Jo-leeeene!
so funny, Jolly laughed at
just about anything you said!
Aaahh! Korean enthusiam.
Gem & Nikki
Ladies... ...Gentlemen (well, almost)
Kris, Michelle & Flo: The Terrible Threesome, Newly loved up couple Flo & Megan.
sciving off work, getting sacked &
getting pissed in the day!
Impressive! Kay & Nikki
We left before these two buds Flo & Raphael
could totally corrupt us!
Its Ok, size really doesn't matter,
we only had triple the amount
of firewood at the last bonfire guys!
After Stephane moved out, Kim moved in from downstairs and lived with us for a couple of weeks. Top bloke and taught us the game of Sand Jenga, with a stick and some sand, though he didn't like it when I kept beating him!
Our last day working was Sunday 2nd September. Even though we were glad to be finally leaving, it is true to say that we both made some really good friends here who we intend to meet up with again in Sydney. We had enjoyed our stay at Sunrise Court, so it was also sad to have to say good bye. The accomodation, though never properly clean (they didn't even have a hoover that worked!), was in a strange way homey and easy to relax in. The neighbourhood was quiet but pretty friendly, and the beach was only a stones throw away across the road. There was a really great mix of people throughout our stay and the fact that we were all doing the same work meant there was a real sense of comaradarie that spread through the hostel. So on our last night, all that was left to do was have one last party, fuelled as always by cheap goon, and celebrate the good times.
Great memories
It doesn't happen often...
but we think Kei was drunk
Yes, I do like balloons! So what!?!
Later on in the evening....
