Farewell farm. Farewell SA.

So I came into this farm, absolutely clueless of what the Australian farm life would be like. And I have to say, the first days I was having some trouble finding my place.

“Okay Ev, your chores today are to: feed the chooks, fill up the horse basins, check the ram’s water in the ram paddock, cut the lawn, feed the sheep using the tractor do some washing of clothes, hang up and bring back in again. And if you have some time left: sweep the stables, tidy up the common room and do some dishes.”

I already told you the first day I found a dead cockatoo in the horse basins. And that the only seemingly fun thing on the list -feeding little woolly chooks- turned into a nightmare because of that rooster attacking me and flying up against my legs and even high up to my face. Well, I didn’t know how to use the lawn mower, forgot the instructions for driving the tractor and spent one full hour trying to figure out how washing machines work Down Under. Apparently you just lift the lid, pour laundry powder in there, put all your clothes randomly in there together and then add some fabric softener. There is no separate thing to put the soap in which would really upset my mom since she works in the quality laundry machine business… Any who. My first two days were disaster and I had to constantly bother Sammy at work asking her how the funk things worked. How do I recognize a ram out of the other sheep anyway? And what in a name is a ram paddock?

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Well two weeks later I’m running over these lands like a pro farmer. Joy riding the tractor, mowing the lawn for hours laughing away like a little toddler on a little machine kart, and not minding that rooster anymore. The moment I walked into that shed fearless, he just stopped attacking me. He must have gotten the memo.

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Also the spiders don’t scare me anymore. Or not as much as they used to. These nasty eight legged buggers aren’t my favorite companions either. But I do regret how I handled some of them. The first few nights in my shed I was feeling all confident with my little can of highly effective bug spray. Spraying every spider, every web, every bug I encountered. Die, fuckers, DIE! One night there was this black spider surfing over my carpet. Apparently it had hitched a ride on the back of a moth navigating it straight into its web through a hole in the carpet. I was spectacularly convinced I had just discovered the flying black spider, a breed not yet to have been discovered in the stretched lands of the South Australian terrains. And since I must have looked like I had seen a ghost -all pale and with my black hoodie tightened firmly around my face- I thought of nothing better than to spray the hell out of that hole hosing the black spider down with heaps of white toxic goo, watching him slowly die… So far for scientists naming the spider after you, Ev!

It wasn’t until the next day I discovered that some spiders are really good at keeping the bad ones out. Then I learnt I must have killed quite a few good ones and it just made me feel sad a little…

I guess not all of them are bad. There is this big ass spider called the huntsman. He is brown, fugly and has these incredibly long hairy legs but apparently he just wants to cuddle and be your friend. I mean, how cute is that? Might not wanna befriend a funnel web spider though. This is the deadliest spider ALIVE. And here I am fearing redbacks and white tails. This funnel web will mess you up pretty badly and guess where it’s at? In Sydney. One of the places I’m going next…

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The huntsman ❤

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The funnel web!!!

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So it’s farewell to the farm life after almost three weeks. And farewell to South Australia in general. Me and backpacker Pierre are gearing up the car as we speak, to head to Melbourne, Victoria. I was already planning to go from Adelaide to Melbourne before I arrived on the farm. When I got here, I shook the hand of a tall French guy with an ever darkening tan, to find out he is going to Melbourne in a few weeks. And he has his own car! We hadn’t only known each other for 1.30 minutes or I already invited myself to tag along. I figured I had another 2 weeks to get to know him and find out if he was a serial killer or not. Turns out he’s -would you ever have guessed?- NOT. And I also learnt he cooks up an amazing chocolate cake. Not that this would be of any use on the road, since we don’t have an oven to take with us, but any guy who enjoys making chocolate cake like he does cannot possibly be a bad apple. So yeah, me and Pierre are off on our little road trip. Leading us past … ahm… some national park which name I keep forgetting and The Great Ocean Road! Woowie! Once we arrive in Melbourne we will go our own separate ways since he’s going to New Zealand and Hawaii and I’m, … well… , still deciding on that actually (big toothy smiley). I must say I have some catching up to do. Only a little over a month left and I still have loads to see here in Australia. It will be a little bit of a rat race with 20 kilos attached to my back. I hope I easily find places to sleep, since I’m not booking any hostels in advance, since I don’t know when I will arrive where, SINCE THE ONLY PREPARATION I HAD WAS WATCHING ‘THE RESCUERS DOWN UNDER’ IN THE PLANE.

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So yeah, pretty exciting! (big toothy smileys all over)

Will miss the farm. Sammy’s great food. Nick’s passionate talks about bees and beer. Bread day (on Thursdays Sam would bring heaps of free bread from the bakery), My Kitchen Rules. And the hot butcher next door. Maybe I’ll come back for him when he’s matured -he’s only 23! Can’t say when he has grown a beard since he has a magnificent one growing on his gorgeous face already.

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“What’s that Pierre? You’re ready to hit the Great Ocean Road? I hear ya buddy!”

Good bye everyone, take care! And Sammy, every time I look at my toe nails I will think of you. I promise!

XO

Here’s a little photo album:

*That time Sammy and I went to pet some hairy pigs…

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That look you give the owner when you ask him if they have sharp teeth. TURNS OUT THEY DO!!!1455238252130

  • Sam and I used to text. Even if we were only 10 meters away.

(Funny how she completely ignored this final text where I got myself electrocuted and bumped my head against the stable door. Farm life as usual! )

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The chooks …And the fugly rooster.

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Boys stuff (FYI this is not a meth lab)

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Girls stuff

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One comment

  1. mark · February 12, 2016

    behoorlijk jaloers, maar meer dan ooit overtuigd dat alle babbels die we hadden voor je deze sprong maakte, perfecgt waren….

    Liked by 1 person

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