WWOOF around the world - Part 3

I was given a lift into Nimbin the following day where a tourist shuttle ran regularly between the town and Byron Bay. I had time to visit the Nimbin Marijuana museum before getting on the small coach and heading 'back to civilisation.' Byron Bay was never a strong attraction to me regardless of the massive surfer appeal. But once on that bus, I had a familiar safe feeling come over me. It was all that time on a bus coming over to Oz, I thought. Fun times.

Anyway, I checked myself into a Flash-packer hostel as soon as I arrived and had about a 40min shower trying to scrub myself free of tics. I spent a week in the town trying to partly be a tourist and partly figure out what the hell I was gonna do with myself now. I rang other WWOOF hosts but it seemed wrong timing for most of them as I wanted something quite immediate. I rang my Sydneyside friends who suggested I come back to what I knew. I didn't want to go back just for the sake of it but I had to do something. So I returned to the city I said goodbye to just a week previous. I managed to organise a week WWOOFing at a Yoga retreat just before my birthday.

There were many people at this residence, and lots to do in an amazingly organised organic garden. But the Yoga was a religion and those that stayed long term really threw themselves into practicing it which I wasn't about to do so again, I returned to Sydney to spend birthday with family. Had a great birthday until I got a winter cold and spent about 2 weeks with family, half convalescing, half again, figuring out a plan.

WWOOF around the world - Part 2

I said goodbye to the 3 remaining OzBusketeers in Syders, Positive Sam, Political Elli and Delightful Dee and boarded the overnight train from Central train station. The rail network in Australia at some point underwent the same dressing down for economical reasons as in Britain. Consequently there are many towns all along the east coast that used to be serviced by rail. Now to get to these one time connected towns, one disembarks somewhere close and catches a bus that continues the rail route. Silly really, I'm sure the argument for cutting services was that the numbers didn't add up - ain't that always the line? But the reality is people still wanna get to the towns but the trains just don't wanna take ya.

It was early summer when I left Sydney, the weather was comfortably warm. When I was booted off the line at Casino, I was overwhelmed with the humidity. I was now more north than Sydney, heading for the Australian Rainforest belt. I took the bus to Lismore train station where I was to be picked up by my WWOOF host, a middle aged lady who lived in the small community. She arrived in a battered, dusty station wagon which I recognised as a sign of a working farm type place. A storm was coming in as we drove out to the land, we were losing light fast. One of the last thing I remember seeing was the legendary town of Nimbin, where smoking pot is more than a pastime, it's practically a religion.

When we arrived at the property it was pitch black with the occasional flash of light from lightning. My host asked me if I had a flashlight – I did but not to hand. When the car headlights were switched off a wave of sudden realisation came over me just as the encroaching jungle seemed to above my head. I was incredibly isolated here in the depth of another kind of Australian outback. It was mildly frightening. I just hoped the personality of the community would help take the severity of the isolation away.

It did not. The 'community' existed of 5 self-reliant units, mostly made of couples. The first night I spent in a shared home with 2 couples occupying where I was told I was welcome but not when they wanted their space (what is that supposed to mean?). My official accommodation was a choice between a tumble down shed full of junk I had to clear before I could inhabit, another tumble down shed but with less doors or a big open barn but without any doors. I chose a big space thinking that I was less likely to have anything 'trapped' inside. The only problem with the barn was that it was a10 min walk away from where I was walking and every trip I made there I gained a leach to the leg.

It did not look good as a long term residential prospect. The work I was doing was weeding and harvesting bananas, something I wasn't riveted about doing long term either. The people I met were nice enough but kept to themselves and by the time the 2nd evening rolled in and I said I wanted to leave the next day, I was closer to the tic population on my body than anyone else in the community.

WWOOF around the world - Part 1

I became disillusioned with Sydney. I had lost sight of why I was there and what I was doing. I was not learning a foreign language, my goal on OzBus had been to reach Sydney, to meet my Aussie family – all these things had been achieved. Long term goals were non existent – I had a year to kill before leaving on a boat for the States and I wasn't much interested in going backpacking up touristy coasts, all that costed money I didn't have. So I returned to familiar ground of WWOOFing.

Willing Workers On Organic Farms or World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms was how I first landed in Spain back in April 2008. It is essentially a skills exchange organisation that allows organic projects (from personal smallholdings to commercial farms) much needed labour in exchange for shelter and food. No money pases hands (though I've found some host farms asking for food contributions and stipends available for long term WWOOFers, I tend to stay away from hosts involving money).

WWOOFing experiences vary – a lot. Where most of us live in a world constantly requiring a money-back guarantee, a set standard of quality, a regularity of income and that post-financial crisis golden grail; security, WWOOFing requires one to completely step out of that mentality. First WWOOFing experience will by no means set the standard for future ones. I was introduced to the agricultural methods of Permaculture on my first WWOOFing experience which was something that I carried with me to other experiences. However, no two experiences have ever been alike. I have cooked in outdoor kitchens, camped inside abandoned houses, washed in natural rivers, rued the day the shower had cold water again, built out of cob, weeded for the hundredth time, harvested heirloom tomatoes to make a fresh salad for lunch, eaten professionally prepared vegan food, fed chickens, dealt with a huge quantity of manure and all of these experiences have been worthwhile.

If this sounds to you like someone getting the benefit of you giving free labour then you're still thinking in the old way where everything has to come down to money. Learning and sharing skills more than makes up for any lack of pennies in your pocket. If you think that this is a sure way to get free accommodation and food and holiday then make sure you're prepared to put your hours in – it is a working holiday. The harmonious balance between host and WWOOFer relies on just the right amount of give and take. WWOOF hosts share their home and often, lives with relative strangers and are trusting that this won't be abused. If it is, they have every right to throw the WWOOFers out. WWOOFer in turn are putting their daily lives in the hands of strangers and are trusting that the work they do is a reasonable amount and more or less enjoyable. If it isn't, then WWOOFers have every right to leave whenever they want.

In my experience good WWOOFing experiences have come down to trust, good communication, good food and varied task. The best WWOOFing experience I ever had was in the south of Spain amongst a beautiful reclaimed Moorish valeyside village. What I loved there was the amazing variety of people I came across, the beautiful Spanish weather and countryside and ecological aim of the project I was contributing to. My worst WWOOFing experience where I had said I wanted to stay for a longish period of time but lasted 2 days was up near Lismore, NSW, Australia.

Each country has there own WWOOF organisation, none of them are officially affiliated with each other. To become a WWOOFer there is a one off fee for a year's membership. The membership gives you access to either an online directory or a printed one or both. WWOOFing in Australia requires you to sign up and pay for the WWOOF book. A printed publication detailing host farms in Australian State sections. I WWOOFed up near Lismore after my rent ran out on Valentine's day in Sydney. I was looking for a more long term, skill beneficial position near the Australian Permaculture Institute that was near by. I had been entertaining thoughts of doing a Permaculture Design Certificate course (PDC) there.