Auckland New Zealand

LAUGHING OUT LOUD AS TYPE THIS ON DAY 5 IN AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND.  It is September, 2011.  As you may know I just completed a year in Australia of working, living, and traveling and did it by myself.  Now I have rejoined forces with one of my best friends in the world, Marcus Robinson, and we are starting a new chapter recently by touching down (huge flash mob in the international customs receiving area started around ME out of nowhere while waiting for Marcus to land BTW...so random and such a great welcome for both of us to the wild fun and crazy New Zealand that it is) in Auckland on the North Island of NZ.  The reason for the laughter is how fast our powers as friends have gotten us into living and working situations most people would never even dream of getting within 1 week of entering a country and city they know nothing of and know no one.  Within 5 days of being on this island we have managed to do 4 things (we called them BANK, PHONE, JOB, PLACE):
http://test.skimlinks.com
1.  Setup a bank account.

2.  Get working cell phones.

3.  Find two jobs each with weekly hours available of up to 50 if we want.

4.  Find a privately owned condominium (flat) in a modern and 4 star hotel building to rent to us for 6 months.

THE REASON I LAUGH IS DUE TO HOW FAST IT HAPPENED AND HOW IT HAPPENED.  Not to mention that the rental industry in this city is absolutely out of control and rentals are basically non existent due to the 2011 Rugby World Cup right kicking off in a week.  That didn't stop us from anything.  There were only about 20 furnished properties in our price range for rent in the city and maybe a quarter of them were ready to rent within this next 'crucial period' we were in because after September 1st hits, ALL THE HOSTELS AND SHORT TERM RENTALS INCREASE IN PRICE UP TO 50%.  We didn't have a choice, we HAD to find something and lock it in or the next thing we would know we would be in a 10 bed dorm in a crappy dirty hostel in the loud city center paying $300 a week.  With proper clothing, sharp looking faces and grooming, and a mouthpiece that Blake from Glen Garry Glenross would stamp with approval, we managed to hit it off well with our young Colombian female rental agent to where she turned down another offer from a couple that probably had better credentials then us.  We love you Brenda Franco and thank you so much for the 2 bedroom 1 bath with city view, balcony, and modern furnishings!

I THINK WE EVEN MOVED MONEY AROUND IN OFFSHORE ACCOUNTS to show we had months of rent in reserves.  We did...kind of, I think.  It didn't matter.  The woman at the rental office judged us on our character and that was enough.  I can still vividly remember leaving the hostel we had stayed at in Ponsonby for our "get your feet on the ground" period.  This was 6 nights total.  I remember looking at some of the people that were "living long term" at the backpackers we were staying at...not a look of disgust, but a look of just feeling bad.  Not feeling bad that they are living in a dorm room, not feeling bad that they have settled in a backpackers hostel for their semi-permanent living situation...it was more that I felt bad that I had tools/skills as a Speech Communications major that they didn't have.  Actually, it may have been the way I was raised as a child being induced to social situations without even knowing it (3 sports a year starting early at an early age, church, youth group, Boy Scouts, etc).  Thank you Mom and Dad.  Having a "mouthpiece" as my mate of 15 years, Marcus, and I call it, is something you are not born with, but more develop through social and interpersonal situations that you don't know you are in until they are over.  We took a cab to our new place, a hotel right in the CBD just close enough to the action, but far away enough from the noise to where we had peace and quiet.

LIVING IN A HOTEL FOR 6 MONTHS IS SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW MANY PEOPLE CAN RELATE TO.  Key cards to our elevator, gym, and hot tub that say "Before you came our hotel had 4 stars, now that you are here, we have 5."  Our place was small, a 2 bedroom 1 bath suite with a kitchen and two huge glass doors connecting to our balcony that looked out over the Auckland port and CBD.  Nights of room key replacements (due to them being lost) and the staff getting to know us, we became the Americans that knew EVERYBODY.  The bartender at the bar downstairs would sell us red wine on Saturday afternoons and not only give us an overfilled plastic "to go" cup, but more would sometimes give us the old and almost sour leftover bottles that they would have only sold to a patron that wasn't paying attention.  It was once in a lifetime.  The best feeling was just coming home at night.  It reminded me of the building attendants in New York City that my friends who live there give cash Christmas gifts to.  Everyone knew us and respected us.  We worked hard and played hard and were very cordial to the people that maintained our building.  On a fun note, we had a washer/dryer in our place that came with the rental (fully furnished).  His name was Ralphy.  Ralphy was one of the greatest laundry machines ever invented.  While my flatmate and mother will disagree, I can only say that if you were patient with Ralphy, he would produce the results you were looking for.  It washed and dried in the same machine -- GENIUS.  Mind you sometimes Ralphy produced hot and steamy and wet clothes....but again, patience is a virtue.  There was also a vacuum cleaner we were given.  We named him OZONE.  This was Marcus' favorite household device.  While I questioned the ability of this young floor sucker, I still always compared him to the abilities of Ralphy...they never compared.  Ozone certainly sucked.  Life in a furnished flat in a 4 star hotel in one of the top 10 cities to live in in the world (rated by some entity I read about one morning in the New Zealand Herald) = priceless.  It was 'sweet as' mate to say the least.

ONCE AGAIN MY 2000 KEYSTROKES AN HOUR GOT ME AN OFFICE JOB IN THE INDUSTRY OF 'FAST MOVING CONSUMER GOODS.'  FMCG...more like FML haha.  I have been waiting to write about this for awhile (if you don't like boring explanations of transportation process chains, please skip 2 paragraphs down).  There are a few companies in the world that move products around that you consumers go day and day out without ever thinking what goes into the production/transportation/delivery of them.  Thank you to the Working Holiday Project that I have endeavored into, I now have the ability to understand these mundane household amenities that we share worldwide.  Take for example something as simple as a Durex condom.  It gets made in a factory in Thailand.  It is then shipped on a container vessel that take weeks to get to New Zealand.  Then the whole shipment goes on hold.  A partial amount of the shipment is sent to an office in Christchurch, NZ to be tested.  Then the test package gets mistakenly routed to our office in Auckland NZ.  We send it back.  The shipping company claims they don't understand how this could have happened.  We resolve it over a week of confusion.  The test finally goes through.  Durex passes.  We are now allowed to sell this product in New Zealand.  The vessel that had the rubbers on it docks into Port of Tauranga.  We get a call saying that due to the Auckland port strike, our containers are going to be delayed.  My Irish boss is frantic.  He has told so many Account Executives in the last 3 weeks for all major outlets that this product WILL BE HERE ON TIME (so they can hit their annual sales numbers and get bonuses to feed their families).  I get off the phone with the guy who looks out at those AT-AT Star Wars looking things (btw where George Lucas got the idea) that crane/lift the containers around in the port and all he can tell me is that the container will be there in the morning.

NOW I HAVE TO CALL DHL.  There is nothing worse in the world of corporate communication where you have to ask questions to an entity that can only answer/respond on an entity that he/she has no control of.  This was my life in Auckland working for this worldwide personal/household products company.  Responding to a boss who wanted results and answers on freight shipments that I had now control over.  The best thing about it is that my boss never reprimanded me or put me down for not having our supply in on time.  He knew there was nothing I could do.  So DHL now says that the transport company (who picks the containers up from the port) was late coming in the morning so there will be a delay.  Now I am getting calls about the condoms from sales reps that want the product in stock by lunchtime.  Not gonna happen.  I call DHL, they say maybe it can be delivered.  No promises.  Cool, can't wait to pass that message on.  The delivery to the store makes it in time.  The condoms get put on the racks.  The innocent Kiwi shopping at the supermarket throws some Durex Pleasuremax condoms in their cart.  The way I look at it; what took me almost 2 months of delays and headaches, sorrows, and stress, has now kept this New Zealand consumer from 9 months of an irritable wife, 18 years of dealing with an immature child, and a 10's of thousands of dollars.  Lesson learned here:  be patient and don't take any product you buy for granted, ever.  You don't know the story behind it or the story it COULD HAVE created for you.  BTW, I still want to know why they aren't called SMCG companies.  Slow as.

AUCKLAND IS THE SMALLEST BIG CITY I HAVE EVER LIVED IN.  The 3rd or 4th night we were sitting in a convenience store using computers to Skype the USA and a woman named Roimata Hawke (Maori woman who just opened her first bar up the street) overheard us talking about that we were looking for bar work and ran up the street to have her partner approach us for jobs (maybe she was intimidated by Marcus' beard haha).  Harry, her partner of many years came in and the rest is history.  Marcus becomes their Director of Marketing/Bar Manager and I become their Photographer.  A cute and hip tapas and wine bar that was underneath a hotel, it was extremely tight.  I barely ever had to pay for a beer and could stop in whenever I was on my home from work.  We even had a photo shoot night where Marcus was one of the models.  Again, our charisma and character landed us a family-type spot in this families first endeavor to own there own bar.  It felt amazing.  I started bringing my co workers there for rugby games where we had roped off private areas...but...as we all know...all good things come to an end.  It was unfortunate, but after the Rugby World Cup, the foot traffic on this particular road in the city dwindled, and one party less after another, the bar couldn't sustain itself.  We took part in the official grand opening of this amazing bar in Auckland to only see a few months later it flake off the map like a a 6 year old's booger.  It was bitter sweet but such a great experience.  Miss you Harry and Roi, thank you for the wonderful times and taking us in to be part of your journey and family/friends.

BEING IN THE COOLEST CLUBS AND TAKING PICTURES WITH CELEBRITIES HAPPENED... A FAIR AMOUNT.  We made good with the bouncers all over town and the next thing we know we are in clubs that cost people annual fees of thousands to go into (we are let in for free just because -- I still don't why) and getting pictures with the All Blacks rugby players.  These athletes would be like your Kobe Bryant, Derek Jeter, or Peyton Manning.  And here we are, two American travelers partying with them during and after the 2012 Rugby World Cup that they WON (more on that below).  What I am trying to insinuate here is that Auckland (and New Zealand) for that matter is such a 'hands on' place that if you want it to happen, it can.  For example, at the end of our time in Auckland, Marcus organized a charity party event that drew in almost 100 people in on a Sunday.  Raffle prizes, talking on the microphone, drink specials, mates from all the networks we had made, and dj's and dancers; we raised $500 for the kids.  The event was called 99 Problems But A Kid Ain't One and the money we raised helped a few handfuls of kids get lunches, raincoats, proper school gear in poverty stricken South Auckland areas.  It felt amazing.  Thank you to everyone who donated and came out.

WHEN IT COMES TO TRAVELING ABROAD AND SEEING THINGS, PLACES, AND PEOPLE...THERE IS NOTHING AS BIG AS A WORLD CUP.  Period.  Whether it is soccer, rugby, the Olympics or a week long festival in a European city, World Cups are EPIC.  Yeah festivals are gnarly; but...they last a weekend.  World Cups engulf a community for weeks on end.  They create a buzz for the city, culture, people, and country they are held in that can't be pinpointed but can be felt in an awesome way.  People from all over the world turn out, every hotel is overbooked, every street corner on any given night has fans walking downing it chanting all type of patriotic songs.  I saw white knights with a red cross painted on their chest (thank you England), green painted faces (thank you Ireland), normal street clothes (thank you USA -- we suck at Rugby Union), and locals dressed in ALL BLACK.  For those of you living on the athletic moon for the past 100 years, the All Blacks Rugby Team of New Zealand is the most successful athletic team of all time.  Ever.  They don't lose...well, ahem, except for some recent World Cups BUT, honestly, they dominate.  Year after year they are the ones who hold the line, they hold all the records, they set all the tones.  My office had cubicle dress up competitions, outdoor Friday beer drinking rugby Olympics competitions, and a ton of stressed out Kiwi co-workers (i.e. game against Australia).  Here is a good way to relate it; numerous times from numerous mates of mine at work that follow rugby I heard the phrase "if New Zealand doesn't win this Rugby World cup, this country will go into recession."  At first I would here this and think haha that is funny.  But no, really, they weren't joking around.  Keep in mind these people live on two islands in the South Pacific ocean and there aren't a ton of sports to harness and hold on to.  There is no baseball, no basketball (except for 1 pro team), no grid iron football, no hockey, etc...there is RUGBY.  Rugby, especially with their worldwide honored team playing in their home country a Rugby World Cup that only happens every 4 years is a MASSIVE DEAL.  I truly believe that if France didn't have that penalty at the end and New Zealand lost that championship game (who, by the way, upset them in past finals), the country would have seen a drop in their GDP, a raise in their unemployment, etc.  I can't pinpoint it but all I can say it was a very emotional roller coaster to live, work, and watch through this small country's (4.4 million ONLY) eyes.  On a final note, the night that they won the World Cup, I was with all my Kiwi mates in the heart of the CBD of Auckland in one of the most happening outdoor bar venues (lines were around the corner to get it and most people never did) and when it hit that the French made a penalty at the end of the game that would ensure an All Blacks victory, the bar became absolutely CHAOTIC.  I have heard the 12th man in Seattle at Qwest Field, I have been to a Def Leppard rock concert, I have seen monster truck rallies...but none of them will ever compare to the SHRILLING LOUDNESS of the screams out of the hearts of these Kiwis the moment New Zealand won the 2011 Rugby World Cup.  As hugs began to fall into tables and glasses began to break, I remember embracing everyone I knew and met that night with the longest and biggest hugs...I started crying (it actually wets my eyes right now writing about it) and I was not the only one.  It was heart wrenching in such an tremendous way it is hard to describe in words.  Go the All Blacks.

MY 31ST BIRTHDAY I WON $1350 ON ONE HAND OF THREE CARD POKER AT THE ONLY CASINO IN AUCKLAND.  It was a typical Friday night in Auckland with friends.  Beers at the office at 4pm (huge fridge FILLED with beer and wine).  Go home, work out in our hotel's gym, sauna, shower, music, dinner, drinks, out the door.  Head to Sam's (my best friend in NZ) house in Ponsonby (suburb of Auckland that is very artsy and has a good nightlife).  Drink beer and take shots in the kitchen until Fleetwood Mac comes on.  Sing and dance and laugh.  Walk to the Ponsonby bars.  Dance.  Head to the Auckland CBD.  Dance.  ------ This is where it gets hazy but we went to the casino early on and lost money.  Everyone dispersed after the last bar in town (one of those times on a street corner where you see everyone walk in all opposite directions to go home and call it quits) and I turned to my mate Shane (Ozzie neighbor who I carpooled with and consider a very close friend now) and said something like "Will you wingman with me back to the casino?  I am not going home a loser on my birthday." (or something like that).  He did.  Next thing I know we are up a few hundred playing three card poker where I have enough to start betting larger on the 'pair plus' bet.  I put $40 on it and was dealt three 7s (my lucky number actually) which is a 30 to 1 payout.  $1200.  Thanks Sky City Casino.  I didn't think anything of it until the next day when a friend mentioned to me that it was fate 30 to 1 on my 31st birthday.  Gotta love destiny.

BEING ON THE ROAD FOR ALMOST 2 YEARS YOU FORGET HOW NICE IT IS TO HAVE HOME (HOUSE) TO YOURSELF.  I was blessed to have this gift (household) given to me the this last Christmas of 2011.  A South African friend at my work offered me to house sit for her while their family went to Wellington over Xmas/New Years.  Traveling the world you don't get all the luxuries that you are used to.  My cell phone, for example's, coolest feature is a torch on the front (flashlight).  It doesn't connect to the Internet and doesn't have a keyboard.  It has one game on it.  I haven't owned a car or vehicle for 22 months.  I have driven a handful of times no more than a handful of hours.  I don't have a house to go home to with various rooms to relax in.  Growing up in a home you are accustomed to having a household with a yard and garage so when you take one's self away from it, you LOVE it when it comes back.  This house that my friend let me house sit was everything you long for while being on a journey.  Big huge vaulted ceilings, sun rooms to nap in, art on the walls, large kitchen to cook in, a trampoline, etc. It was amazing.  Set on the end of a road on the edge of One Tree Hill park in a nice suburb of Auckland, this house treated me to a Christmas filled with lots of sleep, food, bike rides in the park, sheep chasing, wine, writing, video games, movies, and photography.  I think the first day I was there I accidentally napped in 3 different areas of the house.  I was in paradise.  It almost felt like I had won the lottery.

NEW ZEALANDERS LOVE THEIR COUNTRY AND ARE EXTREMELY PASSIONATE ABOUT SHOWING VISITORS EVERYTHING THEY CAN THAT MAKES THEIR COUNTRY SPECIAL.  The birds, the foliage, the beaches, the music, the dance, the culture, the food, etc. are all well known about by Kiwis and they are very knowledgeable about everything domestic to them.  I took a couple of side trips with my good friend Naressa (Aucklander/North Island local expert ;) ) which were amazing because she knew so much about nature and the country (identifying which sounds are coming from which birds in the bush, explaining how certain land formations were formed, etc).  Kiwis also love to have a good time.  I can vividly remember being a couple hours north of Auckland in this tiny tiny township called Leigh by the ocean and just DIGGING and RIPPING into the trunk of her car looking for clothes to put on for a show we were about to see.  With LCD Soundsystem's "Home" playing in the car and red wine hitting our lips in between costume try-ons, I finally found what I was looking for; a massive huge large cream/brown mink coat with a huge lapel and a length that went down to my knees.  We were late for a burlesque/variety show called Birds of Paradise in this small bar/venue in the middle of nowhere.  It felt like one of those places the characters in Footloose would have to sneak out to dance in.  The mink coat was a HIT.  Towards the end of the show the MC brought me up on stage and I was awarded a hand knitted Italian scarf for being the most FLUFFY in the audience.  I put the scarf on immediately and all it did was make me even fluffier :) The show ends and the venue turns into a cast and crew and a very few (me) dance party.  I got my Nikon DSLR out of the car and became the photographer.  Naressa is a professional dancer and had danced in the show the past few years so she knew everybody there resulting in a VIP party on the property in the annexed side house.  After dancing the night away and meeting tons of great artists and dancers, I woke up in a tent to two Tui birds BUZZING THE TOWER (like Maverick would).  I don't think they liked that our tent was underneath their tree.  Cheeky little buggers those Tuis are.

ANOTHER SIDE TRIP OUT OF AUCKLAND FOUND ME ON THE DOORSTEP OF A HOUSE IN A FOREST KNOCKING ON THE DOOR AT 9:30PM.  My friend and I had taken a day trip out to the small ocean side township called Piha.  SPECTACULAR and so pure and pristine now I know why New Zealanders are so passionate about their country and landscape.  The only campground that we were going to stay at was not taking walk-ins due to the septic tanks being backed up so, after some fish and chips, a couple of Canadian Club and dries, and a gorgeous sunset over the Southern Ocean, we were homeless for the night.  It wasn't long before we ventured down this small road into a forest with no street lights (just dim house lights) and came across a circular meadow fenced in by trees, old broken down campers, and broken down machinery/wood working tools.  It was SILENT.  It felt like I was in an abandoned/condemned old Boy Scout day camp activities area.  With our headlights dipping under the overgrown leaves and branches that scratched the windshield of our car, we descended down a 30 foot hill into this sanctuary for the night.  The house on one side of the meadow was dark while the one of the other had a porch light on.  We hiked around and went up to the front door of this old wooden and brick country house and knocked on the door.  We wanted to make sure it would be okay to camp in the meadow for the night.  An old man came to the door in his bathrobe...I noticed the large fire he had been burning in the adjacent study as we peered through the door.  "Hello, my Kiwi mate said,...the campground was full in town and we don't have anywhere to stay...would you mind if we put up our tent in the meadow?"  Then the old man's wife came up to the door and said "Who is it dear?"  Old man "Oh just a traveling young couple looking for a place to sleep for the night."  After a very genuine and overwhelmingly positive approval for their neighbors who own the land we were looking to squat on, we scurried back through the trees excited to setup our tent under the moonlight.  It was like something out of a Colleen McCullough novel.

IN ALL, AUCKLAND IS AN ABSOLUTELY GREAT CITY TO LIVE IN.  While sometimes the outskirts can feel like a trip into a twilight zone of the 1940's, the culture, diversity, laid back-ness and overall pulse is attractive.  When I think back on it I just see laughs, music, and good people.  My 1 hour walk/bus ride to work in the morning (yes the public transportation is not insanely advanced) was not looked down upon for this travel writer with headphones in his ear and a morning newspaper in his hands.  The ride would float me through little surrounding towns and I would constantly zone off and examine abundant mom & pop bakeries, dairies, shops, and cafes.  Pleasant and peaceful is an understatement.  The suburbs are all ecelectic and different and surround the CBD like a big hug of embracement.  You could walk from end to end of the main suburbs across the CBD in an hour.  Auckland is that small.  But come a Friday night or a Saturday afternoon in the heart of the city, Auckland's blood pressure rises to a level that even the tamest city dweller couldn't ignore nor not participate in.  It is like a sleeping giant who's yawns are filled with festivals, music, culture, art, passionate people, and a city/landscape that could rival many cities in the world.  Miss you already Auckland, stay cool.  -RCM-

Rhythm and Vines Music Festival 2011

A lot of you were wanting the link to my R&V article...here it is:

http://kotorimagazine.com/index.php?news=4576

Hope everyone is well.

McLeod

Happy Holidays Video from Auckland NZ

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM AUCKLAND NEW ZEALAND!  


Miss and love you all, 


Ryan

Sydney Australia

I CAN VIVIDLY REMEMBER SITTING IN THE SHOWER IN MY STUDIO APARTMENT IN LOS ANGELES 20 MONTHS AGO THINKING.  Some of you that I know closely know that my best thinking is not only done sitting down in a heavy and hot shower, but also in the dark (or just dimly lit enough to make out shadows and water reflections).  My company had recently gone through a recent large HR (Human Resources) exercise and I found myself without two things; a boss, and a known future with my company.  It was perfect setting for deep and life changing thought.  3 months through the holiday season, many bottles of Charles Shaw later and hours upon hours of Internet evening research, I starting peeking into the idea window of traveling the world again (been 7 years since college graduation when my good friend Brian and I backpacked Europe). Once the VISION of going to Australia, New Zealand, and Southeast Asia for a few years to work and travel sparked emotion in my brain to where I could quite possibly make it a reality, the thinking hit hard in the dark shower in my little studio in Culver City, CA, USA.  Where I am going with this is that I want to tell you that things I thought of on that shower floor (how would my life be?  Where would I live?  Who would I live with?  Where would I go to find work?  Is this a good decision for my body?  My mind? etc.) have somewhat actually happened in real life in Australia thus far in an amazing way.

SYDNEY IS ONE OF THE MOST ROMANTIC, FASCINATING, YOUNGEST, AND ECLECTICALLY DIVERSE CITIES ONE CAN EVER LIVE AND WORK IN.  Per the above paragraph and back to the dark showers 20 months ago, I can picture little things that could happen when you travel by yourself in a country for a year; finding a little job a small backpacker motel in a small city in the tropics,  learning how to surf from a local in an even smaller town in the middle of nowhere, going on runs in farm/wine country and having animals look at you as they have never seen anyone exercise on their gravel roads before, walking in a park with views of the Sydney Opera House and Sydney Harbor Bridge to only have wild cockatoos land on you to eat out of your hand, sharing a small apartment in a big city with 3 good people, running around the brick and cobblestone corner to get a bottle of wine (tightly wrapped in a brown paper bag) before the night starts, hiking up view points by yourself with a camera and knowing no one to go with, etc.  You just GO and these little things I envisioned seem to add up in a magnificent way. What I am trying to tell you here is that the Sydney portion of this adventure (living and working for 3 months in the heart of the city) has produced some of the best realtime visions I had almost two years ago when I was picturing this episode of my life.  Sydney is special in a magical way.

THE FIRST ADVENTURES IN SYDNEY ACTUALLY TOOK PLACE WHEN MY GOOD FRIENDS BRIAN, JEFF, AND KYLE WERE IN TOWN (before I started living and working here in the city).  I called them my chickens and I was the mother goose as tried my hardest to keep them all in the 'coop' physically and mentally.  The first adventure was out to the Blue Mountains which are about an hour west of Sydney.  We chose the tour that our friend at our hostel recommended and wow what a referral because it was probably one of the best days/nights we all had in the 4 nights/5 days we were in New South Wales.  Our driver was a white guy who still had roots into the aboriginal culture through his grandparents.  The Blue Mountains are sacred to the indigenous and Nick, our guide, knew A TON of cool information as he took our group down massive valleys and under waterfalls and to sheer cliff look out points.  It was spectacular.  Yes we have all seen green forested mountains and seen pretty things in a landscape, but there was something a little more special about the Blue Mountains that I can't quit put my finger on.  Maybe it was the sacredness...maybe it was the legends, myths, and true stories that our guide told us about during the whole day...maybe it was that fact that around every corner everyone was looking for the most deadly spider in the world, the Funnel Web.  Apparently that little guy is all around the Blue Mountains and as a side note our guide made 10's of thousands of dollars as a young kid catching these killer spiders and selling them to research companies to extract their venom to facilitate finding an antidote.  Maybe it was that I with 3 of my best friends who I hadn't seen in almost a year who flew thousands of miles across the largest ocean in the world to hike through these sacred caverns, cliffs, and crevasses.  MAYBE IT WAS ALL OF IT...

MORNINGS ON THE CITY RAIL (SUBWAY) SYSTEM BLASTING OUT TO THE WESTERN SUBURBS IS SOMETHING SPECIAL.  Up early before my other 2 flatmates and bundling up as the yellows, oranges, reds, and grays of Autumn/Winter are now here and it is brisk and cold outside.  My walk to the train station is uphill through Elizabeth Bay (wealthy and fine) to Kings Cross (cheap and party oriented) where I can still feel and smell the beer and premixed alcohol stains on the sidewalks washed out by hoses from city workers.  It sometimes reminds me of the streets in Pamplona, Spain any 'next morning' during the San Fermine festival (Running of the Bulls).  Headphones locked in and a backpack covering the corporate business casual shell my body is required to wear to this particular place of business, the morning commute for Ryan McLeod is an hour of awakening that I love.  While the corporate life is extremely lame and boring, I thoroughly enjoy the PROCESS of living and working in Sydney, Australia.  I can't tell you how many times I have had great music playing on my mp3 player (i.e. Jim Croce's Box #10, or Phazing by Dirty South feat Rudy, or Sam Cooke's A Change is Gonna Come) and have looked at the sun rising over the skyline of Sydney and had a smile on my face.  I smile for many reasons (that I am alive, that I have the freedom to see/travel this beautiful globe right now, that I have friends and family in small places, that I AM) but the main reason I find myself smiling at moments like these is because it is transcendentally mirroring the EXACT SAME SMILE I had 20 months ago picturing possible moments like these on the floor of my dark shower in my little hermit-like studio apartment in Los Angeles.

I FOUND A JOB WITH A LARGE FMCG (FAST MOVING CONSUMER GOODS) COMPANY THROUGH A TEMP AGENCY.  My duties were customer service and data entry.  I was taken in as one of their own and before I know it I am being invited to company Friday night parties where drinks are taken care of (open tab) etc.  One of the nights out we were out at a bar in Darling Harbour in the Sydney CBD and there was a piano man playing from 9 to maybe midnight?  What is important to know here (and for those of you that know me know I LOVE piano bars and everything that revolves around them) is that I was so happy to see a real PIANO MAN after being on the road for a long time (been I think since some of those times at Shout house with you San Diego visitors :)) that I ended up leaving his gig WITH HIM to go to his next gig.  He was this old silver-streaked pony tailed locally known Sydney piano man that happily said I could ride with him to his next gig.  I even helped carry some of his gear.  The next thing I know we are zooming across the Sydney Harbor Bridge and we are talking of the differences between piano players that play for money and ones that do it for passion.  We talked about piano players in San Diego, Los Angeles, and most importantly, Las Vegas.  I gave him my contact information and as we enter the bar for his midnight gig he tells the bartender that anything "this guy wants is on me."  So now I am solo, WAY out of the Sydney CBD with a piano man I met at a company party that I temp for and he is picking up my drinks?  Only in Sydney, what a laid back kick-ass city.

I WAKE UP FROM A NAP ONE DAY IN MY SMALL ELIZABETH BAY APARTMENT BY MY ROOMMATE WHO IS SHAKING ME THAT WE ARE HEADING TO THE ROYAL BOTANICAL GARDENS.  Clumsily I get dressed and open my eyes as I feel that this particular Saturday morning's champagne had been stronger than before.  Shaking it off and packing my backpack with a bottle of two or wine, we head out.  Jen and I are flatmates that are big on missions and wine and that day we were set out to find thousands of dollars worth of birds.  We found them.  Perhaps with a slight advantage and previous experience, my good friend Jen knew exactly where to take us to go to where the cockatoos SWOOP.  We stopped at a small convenience store in Wooloomooloo to get some cereal as bait and I will tell you it more than worked.  The next thing I know we have $10,000+ (apparently they are around $2k a piece back in the states) of wild cockatoos LANDING ON US and eating out of our hands.  The Sydney Harbor Bridge and Sydney Opera House casually are to our backs as we are attempting to internationally communicate with these birds that 'we are Americans and mean no harm, here is the food you requested.'  It was awesome.  Talk about a traveling experience and something you read about in a magazine, we were living it right there and then.  The best part is when you would be innocently standing or talking/doing nothing and one of them would just FLY DOWN AND LAND ON YOUR HEAD TO SAY HELLO.  Only in Sydney.

ANOTHER TIME I FOUND MYSELF IN THIS CITY IN A TAXI CAB WITH SUNGLASSES ON TIGHT AND A BACKPACK CONTAINING MY NIKON D5000 DSLR READY TO FIRE.  I started the con right away for fun and told the cab driver that we were late for a birthday party in Watson's Bay so to 'STEP ON IT.'  The reason for the lie and the hurried-ness on him was because I was chasing the sunset over the Sydney skyline and didn't want to miss a great photo opportunity.  Watson's Bay is a above the very rich 'gold and silver sun splashed condos of the eastern suburbs' (where Nicole Kidman has her place or whatever).  Anyway, little did the taxi driver know that we had no birthday party to go to and Jen (different Jen -- ol' 2020 Mortgage from San Diego friend Jen) and I had been cleaning and drinking in the apartment with our other flatmate all day and we had, basically, no idea what we were doing being in a cab at 5pm.  Champagne and orange juice always seems to seep into its consumers in a way that makes you feel on top of the world.  We took pictures at Doyle's in Watson's Bay and the sunset.  Time to go.  After having a brief encounter with a couple on holiday who thoroughly enjoyed our presence and invited us to other events going on in the evening, we collapsed into a taxi and headed for the city.  I can still remember my recommendation of going home being instantly rebutted by my friend Jen who said "Shady PINES!"  We were woken up by the cab driver on the corner of Crown and Oxford in Darlinghurst and GUESS WHERE WE WERE?!?  Shady Pines!

SHADY PINES IS ONE OF THE BEST BARS I HAVE EVER BEEN TO IN MY LIFE.  First of all there is no sign for the bar anywhere.  Anywhere.  Not even on the door.  It is in a back alley of the Darlinghurst area of Sydney and is an absolute GEM.  Picture an underground rustic low lighted (amber and yellow lights) lamp style-taxidermy bar with bartenders who have pens in their ears and haircuts from the American 1940's.  Seriously.  So their trademark drink, while you are sitting around old whiskey and PBR style drink paraphernalia, is called a WHISKEY APPLE.  They pour a shot of Jim Beam into a cup and at the same time food-process 2 green apples in a juicer and pour the frothy remnants on top of your whiskey drink.  I have ordered 4 at a time before (for me).  I am not an alcoholic so please know I ordered 4 so that I didn't have to wait in line again for these little treats.  They are gone like a Slurpee and a few gulps just gone.  Gone.  Also, Shady Pines is only open until 12am.  YOU HAVE TO GO THERE IF YOU ARE EVER IN SYDNEY PLEASE EMAIL OR CALL ME SO I CAN HELP YOU FIND THIS PLACE.  One night there the band played only two requests of the whole audience, and guess who they were from?  Jen and Ryan got to hear John Denver's Take Me Home Country Roads (Ryan) and CCR's Proud Mary (Jen).  I love Shady Pines and will miss it greatly when I leave Sydney.

MY MOST RECENT JOB AND LAST JOB THAT I WILL HAVE HAD IN SYDNEY IS AT A CALL CENTER THAT SELLS LIFE INSURANCE AT A VERY FAST PACE.  Firstly, I must say the commute and hours are right up my alley.  Hours are 12pm to 8pm.  Commute is a 30 minute train ride across the Sydney Harbor Bridge with Darling Harbor on my left and Sydney Opera House on my right.  Headphones, blue skies, Sydney skyline, I wish you could see it every day like I do.  My same temp agency found me the gig and I got feedback from my soon-to-be company that I was "one of the strongest candidates they have ever seen."  I guess I killed it in my mock sales call with one of the managers in front of 4 to 5 people.  I can tell you right now it gave me chills and felt awesome to be back in my profession I have been practicing since high school; SALES.  As much as I am glad to be taking a huge career break from it and don't know if I will ever go back to work full time in sales, it is absolutely great to know that you can take me out of the sales floor, but you can't take the sales floor out of me.  It felt awesome.  In the first two days I have 3 sales and the other 5 new hire teammates I went through training with, combined, have 1.  Weird how the ol "Nice guy Eddie" approach (thank you Mark Feder from the sub prime refinancing days in San Diego) can stick with you and shine when needed in a sales environment anywhere in the world.  Not to mention it is LIFE INSURANCE for pete's sake.  The challenge is so fun and every minute or so the automatic dialer is connecting you with people all around the country of Australia where you start your script with a very curious "hello?" as the dialer has about a 1 sec delay as you and the customer are connected instantaneously.  There are wine bottles on the sales floor as incentives daily and the managers are cool as all hell.  Great place to work as everyone is young and from all parts of the world; England, USA, Australia, New Zealand, India, Ireland, etc. and everyone shares a bond that they are doing a very enduring job and everyone, in turn, respects everyone else and parties together.  Let me put it this way...basketball shorts and 'flat-blacked' Jordan hightops are allowed on casual Fridays.  I just started laughing as I am next to my soon to be new friends and they look like they are about to shoot hoops in the break room at lunch.  Outstanding place to work in an outstanding city they call Sydney.  Going to miss this place a lot when chapter 2 starts in New Zealand here shortly.

WITH A MONTH LEFT IN SYDNEY I REALIZED THAT I HAD TO GO TO A PERFORMANCE AT THE SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE.  I had been around it numerous times for pictures with my parents and friends when they were visiting me but never went IN to the thing because it costs money for some typical tour or you need to book a concert/opera/ballet/etc.  I randomly go to the Opera House's website to see what is playing in the next few weeks and something caught my eye immediately.  A Tribute to John Williams by the Sydney Symphony.  You have to be kidding me right?  You are telling me that it just so worked out that in the last 3 weekends I have in Australia, in Sydney, living a 5 minute train ride away from the Sydney Opera House, that the music of Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones, Jaws, The Olympics, Harry Potter, Close Encounters, Superman, etc. is going to be performed in the Main Concert Hall by the Sydney Symphony?  Unbelievable.  So after analyzing maps of the concert hall online and bouncing between Ticketmaster and the Opera House's website, I manage to conjure up and buy two tickets FRONT ROW in a box seat on the side of the main stage.  $70 each only due to getting them early.  Next thing I know I am with my friend Kelly (from England), who I met out and about in the Sydney nightlife a few weeks before, and we are drinking champagne and taking pictures with Darth Vader and Storm Troopers before the show with the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the background.  Friday night,  nice out, Sydney buzzing, 8pm, feeling loose, feeling great.  So the seats I analyzed forever to get turned out to be incredible seats.  Not only were we front row we were RIGHT BEHIND the french horn section (9 horns total I think) and I was so close I could read the title of the sheet music they were on while playing.  For any of you that know John Williams as a composer you will know that he LOVES using french horns at pinnacle moments in his symphonic compositions.  Well, I can tell you first hand, he is on to something.  The horns, as the buzzed guy behind me was yelling, "its the engine room!...the horns!...THE ENGINE ROOM!!" to the symphony, were amazing and I have a new found respect for them.  It is obviously hard to explain it but the next time you hear Princess Leah's theme on the Star Wars soundtrack pay close attention to the muffled, yet extremely important french horns.  Chills and shivers in a good way is all I can say.

ONE OF MY FINAL CHAPTERS IN SYDNEY WAS MUSIC PRODUCTION AND REMIXING SCHOOL.  Ableton Live is the software program and I have always wanted to go to school to be shown how to use it properly.  It is a program that is heaps (word they use here) beyond some of the other music creation and remixing tools in the world (engineered in Germany) and can do certain things that other software applications cannot.  What I want to tell you about this school is that in the very first day it accomplished 2 physical affects on my body in only a three hour period;  make the hair on my neck stand up, and made my heart pound with adrenaline.  What is the last class you took that did that?  The classroom was a semi circle table with laptops and MIDI controllers and no more than 8 people were allowed in this privately ran school.  5 minutes from my house in Kings Cross, it couldn't have been in a more perfect location.  We learned everything from music theory, drum beat creation, song warping, synthesis of bass lines and melodies, remixing, performing live, audio effects, MIDI effects, mastering sound output, frequencies, etc.  IT WAS AMAZING.  Probably the coolest class/school I have ever been to besides when I taught myself how to edit on Avid years ago during independent study in the Speech Communications building at The University of Washington.  This was better though because after we made stuff everyone in the class would play their sounds for everyone to hear so that you can learn from your peers.  It made me think I maybe should have gone to an Arts school from the age of 19 to 23.  Can't ever trade the times at UW though...not for anything.  In all, with Ableton Live School I attended in Sydney I will just say one thing:  "they should have never shown me this."

AUSTRALIA IS UNIQUE IN SO MANY WAYS.  HERE IS A LIST OF THINGS I HAVE NOTICED THROUGHOUT MY YEAR WORKING AND TRAVELING THE COUNTRY:

-  "MATE" is not only used amongst friends but also used to strangers and even from a boss to an employee.
-  KANGAROOS run around everywhere in the country, across roads, and even on golf courses.
-  THE GREAT BARRIER REEF is the largest living organism in the world (trust me on this I have scuba dived it for 10 hours in total and it is AMAZINGLY ALIVE).
-  COMMON PHRASES to someone would not be 'how's it going?' but 'how you going?"  In a retail shop once staring at items I was comparing in my head a shop worker came over to me and said "Are you okay???"  I thought she thought I was zoning out on drugs or something when really she was asking me, basically, "can I help you with anything?"  THANK YOU CAN BE SAID IN MANY WAYS:  "You're alright mate," or "Too easy," or "we're laughing," or "no worries mate."
-  TOILETS: do not flush in the opposite direction from the Northern Hemisphere , but more in a raging way BLAST water from front to back or front to back like a geyser exploding.  There are also two buttons on most toilets; 1 for a little bit of water (conservation) and the 2nd for a lot of water.  Sanitary toilet seat covers do not exist, anywhere.
-  MONEY:  Tipping is almost nonexistent and not expected anywhere.  There is no sales tax in any state.  Betting on horses and greyhounds is available in, I would say, 1 out of 3 pubs, and can be watched and paid right then and there; 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.  1 dollar bills do not exist.  The two dollar coin is smaller than the one dollar coin.  Money can disappear extremely fast in Australia and if the normal casual working rate wasn't around $20 an hour, no one could afford to live here.
-  HEALTHCARE:  Universal and affordable, even if you are not on Medicade (for example to see a doctor is is only $60 to $100 and around a 30 minute wait on a walk in depending what city you are in).  As a traveler with no insurance I once saw a doctor, had my finger lanced (infection), and was written two prescriptions that I picked up and paid for right downstairs...the whole thing cost me $130 and took 50 minutes.
-  ALCOHOL:  Beer is the coldest I have ever seen or tasted in the world.  The taps are iced over like they have been frozen with liquid nitrogen (if you put your tongue to it it would definitely get stuck like Christmas Story).  Beer pride goes by by what state it is from.  For example, in South Australia everyone drinks Coopers (my favorite beer in Australia) but you may find yourself in Victoria and they love "VB" or you could be in New South Wales and they love their Tooheys, XXXX Gold in Queensland, etc.  What I have learned that on a hot summer day in Australia, any of them ice cold are good :)
-  PEOPLE:  Women major in minor things, men care more about hanging with their mates than being with their women.  This is the only generalization I am going to make as stereotyping cultures as you have noticed is not really my thing.
-  ECONOMY:  Great.  Go there to work, live, and travel and you will have an amazing time.

SYDNEY IS SO LAID BACK AS AN INTERNATIONAL 'BIG CITY' IT IS UNBELIEVABLE.  I have never seen one taxi cab have a plexi-glass partition wall in it and all of the cabs are normal mid sized sedans where you feel like you are hitchhiking in the back seat of some one's personal car.  I have never seen a fight anywhere, anytime (keep in mind if you saw Kings Cross where I live you would think I have seen many...I haven't).  I have never seen a gun shop and don't even know if they sell them over here.  Normal work weeks at a company on average are around 37 or 38 hours max.  If you are running late due to a train being late, for example, your boss will not talk to you (I have had 3 different bosses since I have been here) and say anything about it or come down on you.  Drinks at offices on Fridays towards the end of the day are not only allowed, but a lot of times encouraged.  People don't freak out if they miss the subway.  I missed one this morning and starting laughing on how unfortunate my morning had gone and sat down to read for 9 minutes until the next train came.  People work to live here, they don't live to work like some other cultures in the world.  I have never seen anyone getting arrested.  I have never/ever felt that I should watch my pockets while I go through a train station.  I have never felt in danger.  I can go to the bathroom at this bar that I am typing these very words in right now and leave my laptop on the table, unattended and not think twice about my belongings being stolen.  Overall, I have really only ran into 2 negative people in Sydney that just haven't figured it our in life yet...one was a general practitioner and the other was a subway patrolman.  Other than them/that, this city if I were to describe in a handful of adjectives would be that it is vibrant, eclectic, laid back, and has a very good healthy and metropolitan PULSE. Great adventures, RCM

South Australia

OCS STUD FARM CONSISTS OF AROUND 30 HORSES, 6 GOATS, 2 DOGS, AND A COUPLE DOZEN CATTLE.  And 4 humans of course to control the chaos.  OCS stands for Orange Court Stables and there are no orange trees around so I don't know why Mark (the owner) named it that.  My good friends Cassidy and Dave and I all work for accommodation, food, and wine.  Our boss' name is Thorin Bailey, a late 20s seasoned Australian, who goes by the nickname "Tubs."  Our daily activities range from feeding the horses (hay or hard feeds - buckets with grains/straw/minerals/corn/seeds/etc), landscaping (building a garden/building a chicken coop/weeding/etc), and moving horses and cattle around the paddocks depending on what is planned for them.  OCS is a stud farm in that it has one stallion (stud) who for 3 months out of the year 'serves' mares that come from all around Australia for his sperm.  Apparently he has a 67% win rate with his blood line which is unheard of in the racing industry.  The stud is named Gallo and he has one eye.

 
Yes, one eyeball only; sooooo you can just picture when he serves a mare and his tongue is out and he has his head cocked to one side just one-eyein it.  FIREWORKS I am sure and let me tell you, after working for 2 months on this farm, I am happy to get out with minor scrapes and cuts.  You see, all the horses on the farm are young (under 5 years) and are not broken in and barely know what a human being is.  So even feeding I have come very close to getting kicked or 'double barrelled' (horse stands on front legs and kicks you with his/her back two).  It is starting to get cold here and rain more so feeding at dusk is very dangerous because these horses are going ape shit over the food (they are cold and hungry at night) and going hay wire over the changing weather.  'Electric' is the best word I can describe their demeanor in the last week or so.  But you simply remember your ninja skills and the time you spent working/riding/galloping horses in the Boy Scouts and you manage to get out without any broken ribs.  I always keep these bitches in front of me and maneuver the 4 wheeler/trailer in a way that I can get their feed bins and zoom off so I don't have 7 untrained wild horses surrounding my trailer and fighting to eat out of the buckets.  Heart raced a few times but still never got kicked or bitten...knock on wood.

GELDING DAY FOR 4 OF THE COLTS WAS A VERY INTERESTING EXPERIENCE TO SAY THE LEAST.  This stud farm can only have one stud on it or else there would be 'rooting' (South Australian for sexual intercourse) go on everywhere and the hormones in the colts would conflict with Gallo and the next thing you know you would have Gallo chasing down young 2 year old teenager-type horses and break through thick wooden fences to get to them.  This almost happened on gelding day when the vet came to collect 8 testicles.  We put the 4 colts in Gallo's paddock because it has the most green grass and when you "drop" the horses you want the ground/grass to be nice and padded/fluffy.  Because when they 'drop', THEY DROP.

 

Until you see castration live you don't realize how lucky us boys are!  The 4th horse named Barbie was a NIGHTMARE.  Barbie is a boy and got his name because during a storm last year ran through a wooden fence, an electric fence, and then a barbed wire fence (barbed wire fence = Barbie).  Okay so anyway, Barbie is not liking the lead rope and Tubs is fighting with him to just get him to walk.  Rearing up, kicking, trying to run, Barbie was not a happy camper and was not going to go into the grassy area where his 3 buddies just had their nuts clipped.  I don't blame him.  Barbie proceeds to almost get a side kick on Tubs and Tubs has to let go of lead rope and it snapped whip lashed like a tow rope on a car breaking off suddenly.  So now, Barbie is running around this yard with a 10 foot snake chasing him and at his feet (the lead rope they think is a snake).  We are all trying to corner him but Barbie decides he has had enough and wants to change his name to Fencey.  Just when things couldn't get more crazy, our good buddy Gallo starts running up and down his fence line trying to get to this little punk teenager to attack him.  I look over and truly thought Gallo was going to break through that wooden fence.  He didn't, instead,  This little man ran (Barbie) and attempted to jump over a metal fence/gate that was keeping him in the yard.  He failed miserably.  Barbie, or Gatey I guess lol, poor guy, hit his chest on the gate and fell over it on his head and then the rest of his very heavy body came crashing to the ground.  I remember the farm went silent for a moment and our jaws were all dropped.  Then a quick bit of MAYHEM as Barbie is now getting up to run for the open gate that leads out to the road.  Not good.  Dave and I leaped over this fence as Tubs is screaming "the gate the gate, come around  on him, beat him to that gate!"  Okay, so, you want me to outrun a horse that is bred to win money in racing cups?  Cool, no problem.  Good thing I have been running on the farm and staying fit (yeah right this helped) or else Barbie might have become Roadey haha.  We did beat him to the fence thanks to the fact he was totally rattled from fouling that gate jump so badly.  Crazy quarter horses...all we wanted him to do was WALK forward...that...and...take away his manhood jewels!  Damn, looking back, I think if I were him I would have jumped off of a 3 story building to get away from the veterinarian that day.  Any guy would.  Oh yeah, we fed the balls to Honey and Lily for dinner (the farm dogs - more on them later).

HORSE AND GREYHOUND RACING IS EXTREMELY POPULAR AND A MAJOR PART OF THE AUSTRALIAN CULTURE.  If this ability to bet at the pub was available to us in college in the States we would have gone broke and spent more years to graduate.  You know how you spend money on Buck Hunter and Golden Tee and other bullshit games in bars that you play to pass time?  Well, now imagine you are at the races in Del Mar betting on horses and they are in your bar running for you in a private setting.  Every day, from when the pub opens, to the late evening, you are able to bet in Australia on 3 different types of races; gallops (normal horse racing), trots (harness races with those weird little carts the jockeys sit in), and greyhounds.  It is ridiculous.  Like being in a sportsbook in Vegas.  Beers, betting slips, music, and LIVE results of races from AROUND THE WORLD are available pretty much every 5 to 10 minutes for you to wager on.

PICKING RED WINE GRAPES IS A VERY INTERESTING WAY TO MAKE $17 AN HOUR.  The region I was in is called Mclaren Vale and is the area that a majority of all the shiraz wines come from in Southeast Australia (like that Yellow Tail you drank last week from the super market).  It was gorgeous.  Similar to Napa Valley in California with luscious rolling green hills of vines and gum trees.  Kangaroos would hop around the roads we would take in and out of work.  Wake up time was 5:30am, tea, some toast, and bundle and don't forget your booties cuz its cold out there (still dark out and brisk).  Everyone meets at this oval (sports field and public park) to sign in and figure out which group you are with for that day (usually around 3 groups of 20 to 30 people) and what car to follow.  Picture a bunch of headlights of campervans and silhouettes of humans meandering around on gravel all wishing they were back in their warm beds.  Once again, the Americans are the minority.  Everyone was French.  Now there are two things to note about the French when grape picking.  1; they don't listen and nod their head yes even though have no idea what the contractors are telling them.  2;  They all smoke cigarettes like it is going out of style.  A lot of times I would have to yell at one of them who started picking in my section "post to post!" we Americans would yell and they would say sorry and move on.  You see, you and a partner attack the vine from both sides (some of theses things can be super thick and dense) and you move from post to post so that no section goes unpicked (sections usually about 20 feet long).  The French don't understand this.  we even later tried to figure out what the word 'post' was in French so we could communicate and it actually was the same spelling; 'post.'  So...how in the world DID THEY NOT UNDERSTAND WHEN WE WOULD SAY "POST TO POST"???  Funniest communication breakdown yet on these travels.  It made laugh multiple times and still makes me smile picturing some of their faces when we would tell them 'post to post!'  The other thing is at times I would stand up and look down the rolling green vineyard and all it was all white people harvesting.  Where roughly a 3rd of my life was spent in Southern California I am used to seeing illegal immigrants (usually from Mexico) doing this type of labour, it wasn't the case in Australia.  All of us pickers were caucasians and we actually made decent money for not too intensive of work.  You get $17 an hour but if you work hard and pick at "bucket rate" you can make well more than that (one day I made around $75 in an afternoon where we picked for only 2.5 hours.  The picking is the interesting part.  Some days go slow and some would fly by.  Headphones WERE A MUST.  Layers of clothes would come out throughout the day and some afternoons were hot and clear and crisp and a song like Creedence Clearwater's 'Someday Never Comes' or Slightly Stoopids 'Wiseman' would come on and I would stop what I was doing and just stand up, look out on the winery/vineyard/rolling hills and think to myself; "this is awesome, things could be worse."  Some vines would be dense and thick, some were small and chest height.  Every vine seemed to have its own personality and every bunch of grape felt important and expensive as they were going to go on to produce some of the best vintage wine in the world.  I can tell you that after doing weeks of grape picking (shiraz, cabernet, and merlot), I have a much higher appreciation for the red wine process and will always know I have worked literally 'on the ground level' to help yield some of the most popular wines on this planet.  Thank you Mclaren Vale you were beautiful and will be missed.

THE FARM LIFE LIVING IN GENERAL WAS AWESOME AND WONDERFUL EXPERIENCE.  While I loved being around the horses (been since middle school since I rode every summer in the Scouts), the two farm dogs, Honey and Lily, were my favorite.  One was a blend of dingo and yellow lab and kelpy (Honey Bear) and Lily was a black border collie with touches of white on her fur.  They were the cutest, nicest, sweetest, and well trained dogs I think I have ever had the pleasure of being around.  You could talk to them almost as if they understood what I was saying.  To get them to jump in or out of the trailer on the back of the quad (4 wheeler), you could simply say "in ya get", or "come on" and they would jump in or out.  Sometimes honey would ride in the milk crate basket that was strapped to the front of Honey 4 wheeler.  Honey bear was the queen of the farm and sometimes would bark at the horses to protect me while feeding.  Besides being kicked by a horse and ran over by a car (hurt her shoulder), Honey (and obviously Lily) were always part of my daily chores and, as they would call, "man's best friend" for those two months I spent on the farm.

THE OWNER OF OUR FARM IS ALSO THE 'OUTSIDE GUY' AT A LARGE WINERY IN MCLAREN VALE.  His name was Mark Conroy and was a well traveled and knowledgeable South Australian.  Client base from Asia to America to Europe and named wines after horses and horses after wine kind of guy.  He was always bringing over free ($30 to $50) bottles of red and white wines to keep our fridge stocked.  The slaves (as we called ourselves) on most nights would cook dinner and retire to our "slave quarters" (as I nicknamed) on the north end of the farm house where we could have a fire in the hearth to stay warm, watch movies, and listen to jazz music.  There were only 2 compact discs given to the slaves and they were Jazz After Midnight 1 AND 2.  I absolutely loved those cd's and some nights would fall asleep next to, what I soon called, "The Jazz Machine" on the carpet.  Couldn't tell you one name of one song or one artist...all I can tell you is that Jazz After Midnight was very soothing to the soul...especially after a night of drinking at Jacko's villa.

R. JACKSON (NICKNAMED JACKO) WAS A RETIRED 52 YEAR OLD SOUTH AUSTRALIAN WHO LIVED UP THE STREET FROM US.  A real pleasure to be around this man as he was very intelligent and had so many stories and takes on life that we would just sit there and listen while asking inquisitive questions.  Topics from 9/11, to politics, to finance, to farming, to wines, to beer, to coffee, you name it, Jacko would have a tip on it.  He loved to talk and our eager minds were eager to listen.  Jacko also loved to drink beer and wine.  Loved to put down drinks in a very fun and social way.  Some nights while us slaves had just 'settled in for long winters nap' post dinner and were comfy with our fire and wine, Jacko would show up out of the blue and have us running around to get ready to head to his house to 'try out a new toy.'  Jacko that day had bought a portable (with rollers) kegerator that could hold two different types of kegs of beer and had two taps on top.  ICE COLD.  I think he said it was around $750 but well worth it as it was plug-n-play ready where as if you tried to build one on your own buying all the parts separately it would cost the same amount if not more including the labor you put in.  Sounds good to me.  So now, just when the slaves thought they had it bad with free wine at the farm, we have a local retired ex party animal who wants to feed us free beer.  I forgot to mention the beers were 'you brew it' style where you could mirror the same recipes of major worldwide beers.  For example one night we were on Newcastle while another night we were on Pilsner Urquell.  As my friend on the farm Cassidy would say "SHWEET!"  Some nights Jacko would get us, as a South Australian would say, "pissed as a mute" and we wouldn't remember him taking us back to our house.  Jazz machine, at this point, I LOVE YOU ;)  Jacko also had a pet alpaca, similar to a lama.  Its name was Frodo and he had been hand fed by Jacko and his wife since it was a kid.  This thing would always come and see what I was up to when I would work on Jacko's property (pulling branches to a burn pile, yanking bad olive trees, project work, etc).  A very curious fellow Frodo was.  He would let you know if he like you by putting his camel-like snout up inside your neck.  Frodo and I were buds, I would constantly talk to him while working and when entering his paddock at times would yell out "Frooooooooooooodoooooooooooooooo!" to call him over.  He would always look up at me with the most confused, yet interested look you have ever seen.  Sure enough he would start trotting over to see what I was up to.  Frodo:

ONE NIGHT WE WERE GIVEN A PRIVATE/CUSTOM/EXCLUSIVE TASTING OF THE PIRRAMIMMA WINERY BY MARK (OWNER OF THE FARM).  This was one of the coolest things I have ever had the opportunity to do.  While we have all wine tasted from cellar door to cellar door and it is fun and all, a private showing is WAY DIFFERENT.  Yes, to start, in the cellar door, we had the initial tastings of all the different wines (10 to 15 types) like a normal customer would get..but then...to the factory and to the barrels.  Next thing I know we are climbing ladders and weaving through what felt like a labyrinth of oak barrels.  He made us smell things and feel things and taste things and explained the process all at the same time.  He also had this 'dipstick' type thing that he could stick down into the barrel so that he could get wine out for us.  We were sitting on barrels of wine that have been there for decades, taking pictures, learning a ton of information.

 
The problem is REMEMBERING this information haha.  At one point we were in the laboratory seeing how they add components, make changes, experiment, etc.  It looked like a workplace room for Mr. Wizard.  We were so behind the scenes I felt like we could get in trouble.  We didn't; we were with Mark Conroy, the man of the hour.  He was incredibly funny and witty and at one point told the American women I was with (mom and friends of Cassidy who came to visit her and David) that the reason that wine tastes like an olive is because they put an entire olive tree in the vat with the grapes.  The whole tree lol.  One of them said "really, that is amazing."  My cheeks hurt from laughing so hard that night.  So, just when you think the experience couldn't get any better.  We are leaving the winery and run into a Lionel Ritchie concert that had just got out.  At this point I am singing to these people walking down the road from our motorhome Richie's undisputed best hit single "Dancing On The Ceiling."  It was great.

LAST DAY OF THE FARM WAS THE ONE OF THE MOST INTERESTING WAKEUPS I HAVE EVER HAD.  Besides the above picture which was not a wakeup, but more a 'go to bed' (opened the sliding glass door to go to the bathroom and this LITTLE GUY decided he wanted to cut me off and entered the house inches from my fingers), the experiences get a tad bit more rattling.  After my last night with my friends Sam and Dez at their house for bbq, red wine, and guitar hero, I was loving a nice sleep in on the last day I had on the farm.  Around 10am or so, while loving the fact that Tubs had let the dogs in to come in and sleep with me on my last morning on the farm, I get a loud knock on my door and a "McLeod, we need you brother we have a cow that is birth and we can't get the calf out and we think they are going to die, please come help if you can, quick!"  JUMPED OUT of bed and threw my boots on and ran down to the lower cattle paddock and sure enough there was Big Red's (we nicknamed her) daughter, Little Red, laying on the ground with her baby's snout and two hooves sticking out of her about 18 inches.  Ropes are tied to the calf's hooves and us three men are PULLING AS HARD AS WE CAN like a tug of war from hell.  My job at one point was to wrap a rope around my hand 7 or 8 times and tie it to the leg of the mother and hold the leg up so it would spread the hips to get this little guy out.  This is where I realized that even though a cow may be big and clumsy and slow, THEY ARE STRONG AS ALL HELL.  The mom kicked a couple of times, knocking me over, and later Tubs told me you are lucky you still have some of your fingers.  Um...yeah.  So, this story doesn't have a happy ending.  Us three couldn't even get this calf to even budge.  The emergency vet showed up and started to use this metal tool reverse tourniquet type thing to winch the calf out and press away from the mother but it only got the baby out half way.  The hips are what ended up costing this poor little thing's life.  Couldn't get the calf's hips out so had to go to plan B and sacrifice the calf to hopefully save the mother.  The calf had to be cut in half at the torso, and then its legs cut down the middle to be removed.  When I got back from town that day the trailer on the 4 wheeler had 2 legs and upper torso of a calf already going into rigor mortis.  Slightly disturbing to say the least.  But I guess you have to go back to an ol' saying they say in farming, "when you have livestock, you have deadstock."  I can only hope the mother eventually got up from her calving paralysis or she will have to be put down as well.  Apparently she was way too young to be having children (only 1 year old) and it might have taken her life...that, or she won't ever go near the bull that knocked her up again haha.  Slightly bittersweet ending to what has been an incredible experience and adventure on the farm lands of South Australia.  RCM