We, and even more so our shoes, lost. But only the first round. Lost
the battle, but won't lose the war, as they say. We won't be
defeated, at least I hope so. We can't really afford to. But let's
start at the beginning.
Once upon a time, when Maren wrote our last blog entry, we were in
beautiful Bundaberg (Bundy to it's friends, i.e. not us). Since then
we've been at quite few other places, which you can see if you click
on the new link in the sidebar. All kinds of animals, from Koalas to
Whales, But still haven't made further than Brisbane. Two months in
Queensland, so far. Most imoprtantly, we visited Sonia and Lee, two
friends of mine from college times, who now live in Noosa, and put us
up in their own bedroom and moved to the lounge. Sometimes Ozzies are
just too nice to be true. Finally we were able to show off our
surfing skills, on a borrowed board, which means that now we have to
earn some money to buy our own.
After hanging around for weeks, without doing much travelling, we
decided it was time to find some work. Easier said than done, as it
turned out. After having been told that there were "heaps of jobs"
in Bundaberg (quote Shane, who's number we were given by the
government's "harvest trail" hotline), we rode a few hundred Ks back
up the coast, and waited around in the sun on our campsite, made
loads of phone call. For some strange reason, all these jobs had
suddenly disappeared, the only thing being on offer was working in an
abattoir, skinning and gutting and working towards a long-term
career, which we politely declined.
Finally we were offered a day of picking zucchini on a small farm, in
order to see whether we are made of the stuff that makes a good picker.
Despite all our enthusiasm, apparently we are not.
After about 5 hours the so far unfriendliest Australian I have met
dimissed Slow-Hand Pete and Bud-Slicer Maren (aka The Blind-Arrow)
without even looking at us. Some of the others we were working with
had been growing up picking z... and were for some obscure reason
faster and more careful not destroying the newly growing fruits. On
the positive side our back muscles are now much stronger, the cuts
and spots on our arms have stopped itching and have almost healed,
and the shoes are almost as clean as they were before that fateful
encounter with the evil Z.
Anyways, that made us decide to leave that nasty village and move on
to bigger and better, namely Brisbane (Brisy, BrisVegas...don't ask
me why), and find something that we do well. Sitting in front of the
computer or answering the phone. Preferably something unskilled. What
we do best.
So here we are, 4 km from the city centre on a campsite with WLAN
(for 11 $/day!!!), finally civilisation, very exciting, suddenly
people don't wear muddy boots and crocodile dundee hats....at least
not all of them - that film was my first impression of Australia, I
hope I'm not the only one, and so far it kind of proved to be a true
representation, only it never mentioned the Japanese tourists. I
guess that means it's time to leave Queensland behind. Or stay for a
few weeks of hard and honest work, slumped in a chair in front of a
screen, somewhere in a basement, just like the good ol' times. We'll
...what will happen next? Will our heroes find what they desire? Will
the car battery finally run empty? And are thongs really flip flops,
or was it all a cruel joke?