Blood, Sweat and Memories

I believe that this blog is past due for a bit of a light-hearted post. I've packed up from my travels and moved down to Adelaide for a bit of a different scene. And the scene has been everything that I hoped it would be.

After dragging my suitcase through the Melbourne public transit network, I settled down to wait at Southern Cross Station for my overnight coach ride from Melbourne to Adelaide. And then I was lucky enough to have a friend come and visit after work to see me off on the next leg of my journey. It was the perfect ending to my time in Melbourne and made the change a lot more bearable.

As I sat in the Adelaide Central bus station waiting for my coach transfer the next morning, I took a few moments during my few hours wait to take in the scenery. It really only did take a few moments. That's one thing I've realized while traveling: transportation centres look just about the same wherever you are. I have to admit that it was a little depressing, even once I was on the coach. As many highlights as Adelaide might have, it is still just another city.

And then the coach moved into the South Australian countryside and my heart lifted. Even dragging my broken bag (the wheels broke) up the main road of McLaren Vale didn't seem too bad when I had hills, vineyards and the ocean for my scenery.

I spent the weekend indoors searching for a job, and catching up with friends. Monday arrived, and I found a job that I started the next day. I would be picking grapes for wineries in the region! How very Australian backpacker of me.

I awoke on my first day of my new job at a wonderful five in the morning. It was dreadful walking along the Main street to my pick up point in the cold dark of night. I wasn't very impressed with my choice of job.

Standing around for another hour before catching a ride out to the vineyards didn't increase my expectations; however, I couldn't help but smile as I picked grapes at a dreadfully slow pace while looking out at the beautiful South Australian scenery. The second day I got a treat when a kangaroo hopped up the rows of vines while I was picking.

I'm not going to lie, grape picking is definitely hard work. There is my blood in the 2011 vintage to prove my dexterity at handling the clippers. I come home sweaty and dirty and exhausted every day, but I also come home with memories of great people and gorgeous views.

One thing that I have determined is that after I finish the 2011 Vintage I will never be picking fruit again! Unless of course I'm in another country and desperate for cash... then I might once again consider it.