88 days diaries: There’s no escaping Gumeracha

I survived my last day. In the morning I had the shed to myself. There was nobody. It was quiet. At 8AM I already had two customers, brothers. They wanted 8 boxes of second grade. I just didn’t have 8 boxes. The boys were not in a rush, so as I quickly graded the cherries and filled the boxes, they waited. We chatted and I even got a 10 dollar tip out of it. Sweet!

The next day as I enter the packing shed for the last time I see the farmer and his wife grading cherries. The kids were there too so I stayed for a while. Then it was time for me to go to the bus stop. “Thanks for your work Andrea.” Said the farmer. I’m impressed.

I went through a lot here. I cursed and cried and laughed. The last weeks were so much better than the first few. The work was tough and yet interesting at times. I met the eccentric boss and heaps of good people I won’t forget soon. I can’t help but feel a bit sad. Yet again I am leaving a place where I’ve spent a lot of time. I quickly get over it and when I see the bus stop I can’t wait to leave this place.

After half an hour there was still no bus. Eventually I find out the time table has changed. They just haven’t changed it yet on the stop. There are no buses on a Sunday anymore. Shit! I can’t go back. I won’t go back! When I ask for help in the local shop I find out a taxi would cost me about 100 dollars. I’m beaten. This town won’t let me go. Then one of the men in the shop offered to take me into the city if I didn’t mind his messy car.

A few minutes later I am sitting on top of a yellow raincoat, so I am not sitting on the dirt. My feet rest on some clothing and I lean against my big backpack. The friendly man asked about my trip and told me things about the area. He even took me along a beautiful detour and like an expert tour guide he talked about what we saw.

When we arrived at a bus stop in the suburbs of Adelaide he helped me carry my stuff, made sure I was on the right bus, and said goodbye. He didn’t want my money, even though he didn’t even have to go in this direction. He did that just for me, damsel in distress. I probably reached my hostel before he got back to his house. Such generosity. I guess there are still heroes on this planet.

If you want to stay in Australia for a second year working holiday, you’ll have to do your 88 days of regional work. In the 88 days diaries I tell the story of my three months of farm work on a cherry orchard. I worked out in the fields as a farm hand before working in the packing shed during the cherry season. Read about what I think, experience and explore, from eccentric farmers to new skills.