Some Stuff I Learned Working on a Farm in Paradise.

This view was my introduction to Ometepe, the volcano island paradise rising out of a lake in Nicaragua. This place was my home for a couple of weeks while I volunteered on a small organic farm.  I’ve written about this kind of work before, and it’s a pretty sweet way to travel.

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The location might have been mesmerising, but some of the work was bloody tough.

Shovelling rocks is hard!

It was pretty rustic.

Sharing a meal after a busy morning.

Our kitchen, note the duckie hanging out on the right.

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Hey, a bed’s a bed right?

But after a hard mornings work, we could head up for a beer in this pool.

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When you travel, every new place teaches you something. Here are a few things I have learned from working on a farm in the tropics.

1. Roosters do not shut the f*** up. Roosters love to crow at 4.30am. Roosters love to have a crow-off where one starts and they all join in, and just keep on going. How does so much noise come out of such a small beak?

2. When a dog kills a chicken, the results aren’t pretty.

3. Cooking together, with ingredients you’ve gathered from your own garden and sitting down and sharing a meal, is a pretty sweet way to live.

4. There are a lot of insects that like to bite you.

5. There are plenty of plants that like to sting you.

6. Lifting heavy shit in the tropical heat is a bit shit.

7. Beers by the pool taste extra delish after a morning lifting heavy shit in the heat.

8. If you aren’t careful about covering food, chickens will come and eat it, then take a poo on the table just for good measure.

9. When you are standing under a tree looking up at the monkeys, there is a fair chance they will piss on you, (didn’t happen to me but saw it happen).

10. If you are travelling for a while and have a bit of time, you should volunteer on a farm some time. It’s actually is quite wonderful.

Just to finish off, here are a few more photos of the farm and the beautiful surrounding area.

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Adventures in France

I am in Northern Spain with a girl I met working on a farm in France. Her name is Ida and she is like a Swedish Brandy – for those of you who don’t know Brandy is my crazy wonderful bestie. We had plans to travel to Portugal together to go to Boom music festival, but it has sold out. Ida bought her ticket in January so she is going to go, and I am now trying to come up with a plan B (and trying not to cry with disappointment).

I have been without Internet for awhile, so I am a bit behind with the blog. Anyway,  here are some more stories from my time in France.

I loved Paris – apparently France lets people have working holiday visas up until the age of 35, so I am thinking of moving there and delaying adulthood a little bit longer.

I did a lot of the typical tourist stuff-

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This Mona Lisa sheila better be worth it!

This Mona Lisa sheila better be worth it!

I waited in line, in the rain, for over two hours to get into The Lourve, but I am glad I went.

The main attraction of course, is The Mona Lisa. There was, as there apparently always is, a crowd of people pushing there way to the front to see her. Most people were more interested in taking a photo of the Mona Lisa and a selfie in front of The Mona Lisa, rather than just having a good look at the worlds most famous painting.

While I waited all I could hear was,

“Oh my god, what is taking so long?”

“Come on people, just take your photo and move.”

“It’s those Asians, they are taking so long! Hurry up Asians!”

“Asians can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em”

“Who says you can’t live without ’em?”

“Oh gawd hurry, I need my selfie!!!!!!”

Really? Rude and racist, what a charming combination.

Imagine if The Lourve banned cameras and you had to actually just walk around and enjoy yourself?

I did take a few photos though.

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My favourite part of Paris was the Montmartre area, where the Sacre-Coeure is located.

I accidentally deleted some photos, so here is one I borrowed from the internet.

I accidentally deleted some photos, so here is one I borrowed from the internet.

 

As I was walking through the streets of Montmarte, a French man started talking to me. He seemed nice enough and I thought it might be fun to chat with a local so I agreed to have a wine with him. We ended up getting a bottle and drinking it in the park.

Unfortunately, this is not the beginning of a Paris love story.

We sat and talked and within about 20 minutes he decided I was “beautiful, wonderful Oh Mon Cherie!”

He grabbed my hand in his.

“Oh my bizzarre  hair girl.”

I sort of smiled awkwardly and gently pulled my hand away. He was a nice enough bloke, but I had no interest in being his ‘bizzarre hair girl.” I drank some more wine and shoved some cheese in my mouth so he wouldn’t think of kissing me. I tried to think of a polite excuse to leave.

“Oh I want to know you,”

Oh, want to leave.

When he grabbed my arm and kissed it like Gomez Adams would Morticia, it was time for me to go.

Despite that experience, I could have stayed in Paris a lot longer, but my bank account said otherwise.

I headed south to a town called Montlucon. Thinking it might be fun to stay with a local, I hit up a few people on Couchsurfing. One lady got back to me to let me know I could stay at her place, she wasn’t actually going to be there, but no worries, the front door is unlocked.

I arrived at 9 0’clock at night and felt a bit like a burglar as I let myself into her empty flat. It was a bit weird and I was nervous to touch anything, but very kind of her to give me a place to stay for the night.

From Montlucon I headed to a little farm called Rapato and hung out with these people,

Some of the great people I met in Rapato

Some of the great people I met in Rapato

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My home for 11

Life on Rapato is a whole other story so it’ll have to wait for another blog post.