One task is done and we are off to another. There is a quadbike with two little wagons behind it. The more experienced girl drove the quad and together with another girl I sat in one of the wagons on a cushion of fertilizer. We drove in between young cherry trees and had to empty a cup of fertilizer at every tree. After all the hammering we’d done, this was heaven. But my cheering was, as always, a bit too early.
After driving up and down a few times we got stuck in big chunks of sand and mud. The quadbike just couldn’t get out. We came pretty far just pushing and pulling it out, but that very last bit wouldn’t work. Embarrassed we called the farm hand who had given us the task. He came to the rescue with his ute. Chains were put in place and we got pulled out.
It was just that we weren’t very lucky that day. We moved to a field with less mud and drove down the hill. At the second row we drove up. Everything seemed alright, but not for long. The wheels of the bike got stuck in some sort of trench. For half an hour we tried to push the thing out. We tried everything but eventually gave up. Reluctantly we called the farm hand once again.
Half laughing, half crying he came towards us. Again he saved us with the ute. Then he decided to test if the bike could come up on a normal path. No way! Even when he tried it, it took him 7 attempts to get up the hill, shaking all the way. We were relieved; it wasn’t really our fault. We could already hear the farmer: “Ha ha ha, the girls can’t even ride a bike. They got stuck the whole time. Girls!” But even the men couldn’t do this. Our asses were safe.
If you want to stay in Australia for a second year working holiday, you’ll have to do your 88 days of regional work. In the 88 days diaries I tell the story of my three months of farm work. Read about what I think, experience and explore, from eccentric farmers to new skills.