What is Permaculture?

As a WWOOFer you will be introduced to an exciting practical living theory called Permaculture. I was first introduced to it in Spain where it blew my mind as everything I had already been thinking but never had an explanation for.

I was incredibly excited to take my Permaculture beliefs to the next level and found a great little Permaculture Design Course in Leongatha, outside Melbourne in Australia.

The course was a run by two amazing teachers, Rick and Naomi Coleman, on an idylic patch of land in the sweet Victorian state countryside. This being my first time in anywhere else apart from New South Wales I noted how immidiately I took to the natural surroundings, much more than I did then when I was up in Nimbin.

There were about 15 of us on the course including a couple of trainee teachers. All were locals to the Melbourne area apart from one guy who had come all the way from Tasmania and an Irish dude. We got going the first evening with a brilliant meal by dedicated WWOOFer and his musically talented German girlfriend. And then an introduction by Naomi whilst noting that most of the teaching througout the week would be done by Rick and his trainees.

She asked us to think to ourselves what we wnated from the course. And then the next thing I remember is waking up in my caravan on my last day! It had been two weeks of intense on site seminars which usually had strong practical elements to them, field trips which was inspiring and amazing to see what other people had done to their land and a final presentation of what we had learn't. The week ended with Naomi asking us what we had wanted and to see if we had achieved that. I forget what I wanted - it was probably something to do with a career.

However, I write this, dissapointingly just over a year later from a terraced house on the other side of the world, looking out through the rain onto a small backyard. And there are still the P/C teachings going through my mind as I look to transform that barron space into a productive, efficient growing patch. I'm thinking about zoning, most used pathways, edge effects and there's a herb spiral in there somewhere too.

I have much to explore in my Permaculture journey as I am still yet to find the words to answer the question "So what is Permaculture then?" For more info check out the sites below:

http://www.southerncrosspermaculture.com.au/welcome/

http://www.permaculture.org.uk/

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.

SydneySide - Part 2

Sydney is great IF you have a great job or a pretty hectic full on one where you can save money. A fellow OzBusketeer just worked and worked in a cafe until she didn't know what spare time was so she could save enough money for her flight back to England. Otherwise you find yourself in a city that you're just looking at. And that's what Sydney wants you to do, it's very Photogenic. Getting around is easy enough but it isn't cheap. The public transport system was adequate and fairly reliable(do not live in the Western Suburbs you'll be stuck in your car for days. The trains were double deckers which amused me everytime I went on them, but weren't as good or as clean as those I experienced in Madrid. Other necessities which are surprisingly expensive is Beer. It was so so expensive. Makes one not want to go out for a pint and get 'pissed up' on cheap plonk that comes in boxes instead. Which is what we did.

So my time in Sydney wasn't actually that fantastic. Other people seemed to enjoy it more than me. But I did come away with a few favourite places. One was The Rocks. Oldest part of the city, few nice little cafes, weekend markets, old houses to look at. Another was Queen Victoria Building where I'd window shop and have coffee in a lovely little Japanese Restaurant in a corner on the top floor and watch the clock changing time. Glebe Point Rd was a haunt of mine not least because I lived there in a hostel for a while but because it is one of the 'alternative' parts of the city. As well as Newtown where many students head, a lot of individual shops and creative minds there. Balmain is where I headed one day where I saw a famous AFL footballer pushing his kid along in a stroller and 'Leah' from Home and Away which MADE MY DAY! I'm a huge fan.

If you're a huge fan of H.a.A. then hop on a long bus to Palm Beach north of city where they film it. I walked outside the surf club with Alf Stewart's name above. It was like a dream had come true. I don't care if that makes me sad – I've been watching that Surf Club since I was tiny and I never ever thought I'd actually get to walk along the same beach as Sally Fletcher. But I did. And it was great. Reality 0 Childhood dreams 1.

Bondi Beach actually wasn't much to write home about. My fave beach area was down by Coogee where a couple of OzBusketeers were living. Manly had a pretty good beach but way too crowded for me in summer.

What I enjoyed most about Sydney was getting to know my relatives and spending time with them. That's why I truly came to Australia. And I did that. But the city itself is rather like any other only you've seen it before, on a postcard.

SydneySide - Part 1

What can I say about Sydney? On a bright sunny day it is beautiful. So when a fellow OzBusketeer and I were wandering around on errands (post OzBus) and it bucketed it down with rain I was more than a little surprised. I did not come to the other side of the world only the have a summer of rain. Had I wanted that I would have stayed in Britain. Clearly something was wrong when I returned Sydney Base Hostel miffed with slippy, slidy wet flip flops.

Sydney was not the sun baked city I'd envisioned but a varied urban settlement like many others. It rains, it sometimes has very strong winds, it can be cold (though not as cold as Melbourne which is as cold as England in winter), it can be very hot. The city has a multitude of attractions on offer. It has a beautiful view of the Opera House and Harbor Bridge as you get off the train on city circle line at Circular Quay. It has joly ferries to Manly, Double Bay and Balmain. It has a restored historic district of The Rocks, the Center Point tower to climb and walk around at great height, Botanical Gardens, parks to eat lunch in summer on, shopping rows, Queen Victoria Building for a special shopping experience and a very high cost of living.

And there in lay the first stumbling block for my year long plan of residing in Sydney. It was way more than I was expecting and my budget had already been stretched since arriving in Darwin but I was determined to live a life in this city. Having waved off OzBusketeers from Base Hostel, a flash-packer place, I moved into a cheaper hostel in Kings Cross, on a street that transvestite hookers favoured. They didn't bother me much, and really the hostel didn't suffer because of the haunt. It was small and sociable and many travelers seemed to 'live' there. This was not what I wanted, I was tired after being on the road for so long and especially over Christmas and New year so I eventually found a temporary flat to move into for that period of time. Next on the to-do list was Job.

Unfortunately Australia was not ready for me. And job it did not want to give. I was specific in what job title I was going to have that year and had I been as talented in many job roles as my other OzBusketeer friends then perhaps jobs would have been more forthcoming. The others went to find jobs in the service industry but that task was not without its surprises. First they had to complete a Responsible Service of Alcohol Certificate for which of course there was a fee. It screamed 'taking advantage' of cashed backpackers when I first saw the course advertised but actually it's just a nice little earner for the Government. If there are slot machines or 'pokies' as the Australians affectionately call them in the place of work my friends also had to complete a Responsible Service of Gambling Certificate which cost them another fair few bucks. I guess this is the Governments way of tackling the huge gambling addiction problem the nation is facing. Unfortunately the Government still insists on shoving the things into every drinking space in the country so I don't see how this can really help. I feel sorry for the addicts who are totally being played by the system. (And they think they're playing a game.) All these Certificates have to be completed before gaining employment and if my friends happened to move states as is 90% likely with backpackers they would have to do the certificates all over again as no states except another one's certification.

Fortunately for me I wasn't going to do this RSA thing as I was a bone fide experienced EFL teacher and I was going to gain employment in a lovely little English school where lots of students come from all over the world to learn English and explore Sydney and Australia. And I went to a good lot of interviews and they each told me the same thing – Australia didn't recognise my qualification nor my experience outside of the country or England. Great. So by the New Year of 2010 I was technically unemployable in a country I was staying in until September and I had run out of money. S**t. By Valentines day the only work I had gained was an hour a week with a 3 yr old and it wasn't paying the rent. I decided to move on.

OzBus11 - The End of the Road

90 days, 26 passengers, 17 countries, 13 busses, 12 currencies, 10 time zones, 3 ferries, 3 (politically necarssary) flights, 1 horse ride, 1 scooter and 1 lost earing later; 8 nationalities including one Kiwi leader had made it to being 3 days away from Sydney. We left Coober Pedy heading for Adelaide where we began the begginning of the end for OzBus11.

Our loveable crazy French Canadian was leaving us here to conitnue his adventures alone in Australia. Also our resident 'bogan' Aussie was returning to his hometown of Melbourne which was geographically nearer to Adelaide than Sydney so it made sense for him to say bye to us here also. The crew arrived at our second to last hostel. We settled in and then made our way to a special leaving dinner. It was a flat time for me as I hate anything having to end. The phrase 'all good things must come to an end' has no meaning for me but it could be a fitting description for that night.

Adelaide was a pleasant city to trundle through. Open, green with various parks, pretty, old buildings still in situ thanks to the 80's financial boom not hitting the city. But all too soon we were on the road again with only 24 passengers on board heading for the tiny NSW town of Narrandera. This is where we'd lay our heads, one last night on the road, before our final, 92nd, day.

Is this a good time to reflect? People ask me, as I know they ask my fellow OzBusketeers – “how did you cope for 3 months with the same group of people and a different place each night?” I find it a difficult question to answer. For us, OzBus was a way of life. It had been since we boarded the bus on the 6th of September at Embankment, London. We all did so with different aims but we had one thing in common. We held within us an accute need for adventure. We wanted something different, not the norm, one in a million.

For some of us it was a spur of the moment decision made with a friend because life was so inain at the time. For others it was a 'crazy' idea that suited their 'crazy' personality. For others being on board a bus through strange countries for 3 months was a test of survival that had to be done to prove something either to oneself or other people. For me? - It was a minute part of a bigger plan of action that I still hadn't figured out at the time. Maybe I still don't. I knew I needed that bus, I needed those people around me, I needed to get to Australia. And by the time I had arived in the vast extreme country, I wasn't necarssarily a completely different person. But I had definitely been added to. OzBus is extension of my life and the experiences I have had because of it benefit me as a person. It's another bus story I can tell future friends and ones that are waiting for me to return home.

Day 92. OzBusketeers wake up in Nerrandera. We arrive in Australia's capital of Canberra for lunch. A tour of Parliament house was impressive. The capital city isn't supposed to be much of a looker. It being purpose built and to stop the rival cities of Melbourne and Sydney from squabling over who's the best. But it didn't look that bad to me. I'd live there for a while to get a better feel for the place before completely writing it off. It was post-war pretty and clean.

After lunch it was a final haul to Sydney. I remember going through beautiful rolling hills of countryside. This was in stark contrast to the deathly orange of the outback. And then......... and then......... “Harry Truman, Dorris Day....” our song came on the radio. We were pulling in to Mrs Macquaries Point in the Royal Botanical Gardens which was the official disembarkation point of OzBus11. Those that couldn't contain their excitement/emotion were dancing in the bus aisle, others were frantically waving out of the window to friends and relatives.

The bus parked up, we all rushed off. Some were greeted by those they had not seen for 3 months, 3 years or more. Others rushed off to the viewing point to see the famous Opera House across the harbour. It was the first view of the iconic landmark and it was the symbol that WE HAD MADE IT! I was surprisingly teary just by sharing the moment of arriving with my fellow passengers who were now my firm friends. We all posed, most of us wearing official OzBus11 T-shirts we had made up for ourselves, as a group with the Opera House behind us. It was someone's poor relative who was roped in to taking 20 odd digital camera pictures of us. After a lot of smiles and teary hugs it was time for a fair few of our crew to be taken away to experiences new by their family and friends. There was just one last short trip tour 'Adventure Tours' OzBus had to make. The few of us that were left, mostly the youngens, were dropped off at a decent 'flashpacker' hostel to sleep our first night as non-OzBusketeers. Goodbye to bus was said, a meloncholy drag of bags into reception, payment made and up into our mixed dorms.

A few of us stayed up pretty late as Rob 'Geography Boy' had an early flight to N.Z. to make. I crashed out in my bunk in the evening though. All of a sudden I felt empty and disillusioned. I knew where I was but at the same time I had no idea. Tomorrow was completely uncertain. Everything felt too immidiate, pressing and though this was technically freedom, it was distressing.

When I awoke the next morning Rob was gone already and strange people were sleeping in a few of the beds amongst my friends' bunks. Day 1 of the rest of my life had begun and I decided to go and find somewhere in Sydney to eat breakfast.