Haven't written much lately and I thought everyone would have lost interest by now but I still think it's interesting to document what i've seen and done in this crazy country. After an extended stay in Byron I finally got on the road again. I arrived in Coffs Harbour in early February, after having read on a website that I would be able to get a job as a fruit picker there. That wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. I checked into a hostel/motel/pub called the Hoey Moey, which could easily be renamed Little Germany, since it is run by germans for germans with germans...to put it simply, if you're german you immediately and magically get a job as a fruitpicker, and if you're not, well...you don't. Anyway, what this hostel offered in terms of job opportunity for us non-germans was to tell you that some farmers might show up at the hostel each morning and might take you to their farm for a day's work. So I got up at 6am every morning and stood outside the hostel waiting for a farmer to show up. I quickly realised that it wasn't as simple as it sounds. Every morning there would be about 30 people standing outside the hostel, and every morning, IF the farmer decided to show up, he would be able to take 12-15 of us, leaving the rest jobless and bored (because once you've spent a day seeing Coffs' sights, there is really nothing else to do if you don't know how to surf well). Being left behind would create some sort of backpacker struggle bond between us, since sometimes we'd have to wait 2 or 3 hours for the farmer to show up and would have to go back into the hostel empty handed, where we would slowly gather around the kitchen area to share a cup of tea and talk about how much we had wanted to work that day. On the third day I finally managed to get on the farmer's bus and off I went to his blueberry farm. I now have such deep respect for people who pick fruits all their lives. All I remember is a man with a thick indian accent shouting “BUCKET! BUCKET!” every half hour or so, and going to sleep with images of blueberry bushes haunting me. Overall, out of 10 days spent standing outside the hostel I managed to work for a total of 5 hours.
Seeing as the fruitpicking wasn't as fruitful as I thought it would be, I looked for a different solution. I soon realised that the Hoey Moey is in fact one of Coffs Harbour's local pubs, which turned out to be the perfect networking environment. One afternoon I was drawn into the pub by a live band that was performing there. I grabbed a beer and sat down to listen to what could easily be the best live gig I've seen in Australia. These guys were insane, playing a funky/bluesy rock like ZZ Top on acid, and drumming on every possible surface they could think of: beer kegs, tables, chairs, stools, bins...the list goes on! So i'm sitting there with my beer and I start talking to the person sitting across from me: a Turkish university professor who lives in Armidale (a.k.a. Middle of nowhere, New South Wales) and teaches at the university there. Soon after, someone else joins our table; it's a fisherman who starts telling us about his catch that day, whom I immediately befriend in the hope of getting a job (which I later did but only for one day....long story!).
As the night went on my hostel acquaintances all left so professor Turkey and I decided to go to the beach, where we found a bunch of people sitting around a fire. It was Coffs Harbour local youth, under the influence of multiple drugs. So we sit down and soon everybody starts to go, leaving me, Turkey and a “Coffs Harbourian” who was so out of himself that he started telling us the depressing story of his life. All I can say is that from that moment the night became something else, and the boy from Coffs Harbour (I say boy, but he was about my age) entered a late night tear-filled journey of emotional catharsis, while Mr. Turkey took on the role of shaman and politely asked if he could sing us one song after another. So he sang us 13th century Turkish songs about war, friendship and honour and after each one he would disappear into the darkness of the sea to go and be at one with nature. Needless to say, this night was the highlight of my stay in Coffs, but going to bed at 5 made it very hard to go fruitpicking the next day at 6!
