The Grapes of Wrath

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  Blenheim, New Zealand
Thursday, September 29, 2005

Until recently we were still toiling away in the vineyards. Brian had finished pruning so the bosses were inventing new tortures to pass the time. I was getting a little fed up of all the spiders that were climbing on me all day long. I also managed to defy one of the basic assumptions of labour - the longer I was working the less productive I got. In other more lucrative industries being a slow stripper would be a definite advantage. In the world of viticulture it means I don't earn much money.

Life at the hostel continues to be a good laugh with Ring of Fire, Yaniv and a 1984 version of Trivial Pursuits featuring on the social agenda. One night we even had a visit from a guy who's head was completely covered in tattoos. A few weekends ago we were all glued to the General Election coverage - Channel One had won us over with their promise of a virtual parliament

Al, Si and B

. The virtual parliament turned out to be pretty poor computer graphics but the coverage didn't disappoint. The studio host at one stage told some roving reporters that they looked like "a pair of poofters from Auckland". There was lots of discussion about one candidate's constant references to his testicles during the campaign. And at one stage the coverage was interrupted by a newsflash - some mad punter had robbed a plane in Auckland (not sure if he was a poofter or not) and was threatening to crash it into the Skytower. In the end it was crashed into the sea near Don Brash's house (opposition leader) so he was possibly a disgruntled National supporter.

It's great chilling out in the hostel beside the river but the decor is another matter. My granny back in Ireland sold her house during the past year. I've no idea how it happened but all the old wallpaper and carpets have ended up in the hostel here in Blenheim. When I get the pictures up you'll see what I mean.

Al dropped into Blenheim for a few days (we've had more visitors here in Blenheim than anywhere else - Ed, Lynn, Orla, Bully, Suzanne, Josie and Celine) so we decided to take the opportunity to taste the fruits of our labours - or should that be the fruits of the fruits of our labours? Anyway, off we set on bikes for the cellar doors with Al and Simon on a tandem looking like a pair of poofters from Auckland

Brian Aqua-hiking

. We hit Whither Hills, Villa Maira, Matau and Highfield before we could no longer cycle in a straight line.

Five weeks in Blenheim and we still hadn't been to a bar which must be some kind of new record for Irish people abroad. I broke ranks and headed out with the girls from the hostel last weekend. The bars weren't great and the locals are pretty scary. But I did discover the joys of Lasagne Toppers (a kind of deep fried slice of lasagne sold in local chippers - sounds bad but is really, really good). Other good but strange things in the local chippers are kumara chips - kumara is like an orange potato, and lots of oysters and scallops. Whatever about the bars in Blenheim we did find a nice one in Picton about 30k down the road. One of our fellow vineyard workers, Christophe from France, turned out to be a brilliant tin whistle and flute player who loves his Irish sessions. So off we went with Christophe and his Argentine girlfriend Ivana to a tiny Irish pub in Picton. The music was pretty good but the locals did insist on interrupting every now and again with a Crowded House number (Crowded House - kiwi or aussi - who knows, who cares?).

Our viticulturalist careers came to a sudden end last Friday. A lot of our colleagues had already received their marching orders as the pruning and wrapping season had come to an end

Cycling in Blanheim

. We seemed to have survived and were hoping to do another few weeks work. Then, only one hour before the end of the pruning season party (known locally as a pruning shout) was about to start, Brian got an unexpected phone call from the boss. He was dramatically accused of two-budding too many young vines the previous day. They weren't going to pay him and he wouldn't be welcome at the party!

I wasn't fired but at 6am on Monday morning in a selfless act of solidarity I didn't get out of bed to go to work. The fact that there was no one to make my sandwiches was purely incidental. When we did get up we rang around a couple of places. Following a rejection from the local sweet factory, a cup of tea and a bit of reflection we decided that work was for losers (a conclusion reached by Jimmy Malone many years ago). So it's fairwell to Blenheim for the moment. No more tight-arse Tuesdays at the cinema, fish and chips Fridays, Hells Kitchen Wednesdays and Ring of Fire Saturdays.

It's back to our usual occupation of unemployed wasters, sorry, fearless world travellers. We celebrated by going aqua-hiking - walking up the Waima river for a couple of hours to check out Sawcut Gorge. The water was icy cold but after a while your lower body goes completely numb and you don't feel the pain any more. After our aqua-hiking we headed to Marfell's Beach beside Lake Grassmere and checked out the sea which was full of whales. You don't see that sort of thing hanging around in vineyards all day.

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In the river	Playing pool in Blenheim	Sawcut Gorge - worth the wade	Simon and Brian in Highfield
So glad I don't have balls	The Grapevine Gang	This one's for the Geo Crew - Mount Vernon	View from Mount Vernon
Vineyard	Waima River	Wallpaper in The Grapevine Hostel

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