Opinaria é um blog simples, directo e espero que útil para muitos. É um espaço de livre opinião. Onde todos podem deixar o ar da sua graça, a sua marca, escrevendo um pensamento, uma teoria ou uma simples opinião. Será sem dúvida um espaço de debate... um espaço para todos... verdadeiramente democrático. Contudo, para que assim seja, precisa de participação e muitos temas.
Poderão ou não estar a par da noticia mas o nosso amigo, de seu nome Luis "El Siroco" está neste preciso momento a passear-se no meio do Nepal, Tibete e companhias. Durante estas três semanas irei reencaminhá-los para o seu blog para poderem viver "ao vivo" esta grande aventura.
For those who don’t remember, I am staying in Havelock North. I couldn’t describe my life here better than with a French expression, "la vie est un long fleuve traquille" which means "life is a long quiet river". I am as close to a local as I could ever get without changing passport but be assured that will not happen.
Typical day:Early rising with the sun around 6 o clock every morning for a work start at 7 sharp. Down at the vineyard work never ends and there is always something to do. Some more fun to do than others but all of them are as important in the wine growing process. Work lasts until three in the afternoon leaving me more than enough time to enjoy each day. A daily trip to the supermarket that stands 5 minutes away from the backpackers to choose the flavor of the day concludes the day. I share dinner with 2 to 5 other people every night. Each one gives it’s own personal touch to the meals and some wine keeps us company over conversations. It’s time to go to bed, tomorrow is another early day…Lately things turned more interesting as the harvest (apanha da uva) has started. Merlot, Chardonnay, Viognier, Tempranillo, Syrah, Montepulcciano, Pinot Noir, Pinot Gris and even Touriga Nacional (o que e nacional e bom!!!) are one by one being picked, pressed and set on their way to become some fine beverage.The pick is made by hand and for that matter some "asian" help is called on the fields to speed things up. Chinese, Malaysian, Indian and from time to time some backpackers like me trying to make a buck or two make the team. They pick the grapes into a small bucket (that can still reach a weight of 22 Kgs) and pass it through to the middle row where I stand behind or on the tractor and empty them into a much larger bin that holds up to 800 Kgs of grapes. Everyone is very correct and polite and even though the same exchange repeats itself over and over a "thank you" or a little word is always exchanged to lighten up the mood. But to some point it wasn’t quite enough. As some of you know it, I am terrible remembering names and this considering names like Almeida, Sousa, Cabral, etc. I’m sure it won’t be a surprise if I tell you that you don’t get too many of those around Asia. So trying to remember who is Tching, Tchang, Than or Chao can turn into a twisted mind stretch that I don’t want to get into. A pretty simple solution came up as everyone uses "bro" on this side of the planet. An enormous number of brothers, Little sisters (we don’t want to upset the elderly) and uncles just joined my family, even if just for the harvest’s duration. "Thank you" and "You’re welcome" in Chinese are now as well part of my current vocabulary though it seems to me that they say it in a different way every time and I never get it right. As conversas estao um pouco limitadas ja que o ingles deles e muito reduzido. Passado uns dias vim a descobrir que em Chines a palavra "uva" traduz-se para "putow" (o mais parecido com a pronuncia). Quando o balde fica cheio comecam a gritar: Putow! Putow! putow! - Ao qual levam com a resposta: "Puto o caral....!!!" Estamos neste impasse ha um mês...
On the busiest day we picked up to 44 tons of grapes. Since there are two of us "tipping" the buckets into the bins just do the math. I lift from 10 to 20 tons of grapes a day. No need to tell you that I finish the day almost on my knees but it’s worth the effort. I will always be part of the 2006 vintage at Trinity Hill. And to prove that I was honored to be the first "foreigner" to write my name on the wall of the shed where we have lunch and keep the machinery."Luis Estarreja – Portugal30/01/06 – 17/04/06" - is now written for prosperity.Everything is going for the best and I feel as much appreciated at work as I appreciate to be there. But all isn’t a bi fairy tale and I must confess that I did have a couple of accidents.The first involved a lack of attention and heavy machinery. The one tractor I was so happily driving betrayed me. They put foreclifts at the front of the tractor to carry the bins and as I was taking it back to the shed they were out down and out of my sight. As I nicely parked the tractor in front of the shed door these foreclifts, for some reason out of my understanding at the time, decided with a mind of their own to collide with the shed garage door. It was at that moment that I left a personalised mark of my passage that will outlast the test of time. I would like to point out that I don’t see the point in having such weak doors with such a deforming ability. After getting a lot of shit about it and I am sure I will still get some more before I leave I paid the price of such distraction. I fixed the garage door with George and I was sentenced for two dozens of beers. The door is as good as new apart from some wrinkles and we got some extra beer to drink after work.The second, and lets hope the last one, involved and extremely volatile bucket, and Indian woman and a hole lot of swearing from her side that I wouldn’t even try to translate. I was standing on top of one of the bins dragged behind the tractor (that I was for obvious reasons NOT driving…) and they were passing the buckets over the top the plants. What you don’t know is that the buckets get really bathed in grape juice and turn the handles really slippery. It all came down to the one that got away and slightly (if you ask me) collided with this Indian woman’s left lobe. What can I say, shit happens and it seemed that all the "I’m sorry" one can say in a row without catching one’s breath just don’t do it. I spent the rest of the day getting the evil eye from the hole Indian community. Thank god it was a short day otherwise the curse would have reached another ten generations.Fiquei com um grande remember daquele episodio do Seinfeld em que ele tenta ajudar um indiano mas que acaba por trama-lo mais que outra coisa..."Jerry Seinfeld, Very Bad Man!!" com um pucado sutaque Indiano.."Lui, Very very bad man!!" teve o seu momento de graca...These were the two main incidents at work. I stopped counting the number of times that I cut myself with the snipers, over 20 is too much anyway.
This is pretty much what happened at work. On the hobby side of things I did get up to Lake Taupo the week-end before the Harvest started with my mate Charlie that I work with. There I got acquainted with no only the beauty of the lake, the mountains and the falls but with two typical New Zealand traditions.Unwritten in any books but know by all the Yard tradition has been going around for generations. When you reach your "Adult Age" at age 21 you must down in front of friends and family a whole yard of beer. I’m 24, I know, but still I wouldn’t let such an opportunity to make an ass of myself go by. The yard glass holds six 33cl beers and is quite a challenge just to drink from. The feeling of a late dinner coming through my nose and mouth did refresh my memory about how many stupid thing we make when we are 21. It is definitely something to do at 21 the latest. I don’t regret doing it since it’s one of those once in a lifetime but I’ll think more than once if ever asked to do it again… The second involved much less effort or nausea and I am telling you right now that I will do it again for sure.Bungee jump over the Wataraki River.Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!Off I went, 50 meters from top to bottom. I did ask for the option of touching the water but they missed their calculations and I stopped 1,5 meters from it. Maybe next time, who knows?.It is such a rush to jump off a cliff with nothing but a rubber band attached to your feet, I’ll tell you. Probably as stupid as the yard of beer but much more acceptable and "clean" (if you ask my mom she wouldn’t agree on either of them of course but what’s done is done. I could go on and on about it but I’ll let the video speak for itself and I still have the one in Queenstown to defy.With so much time on my hands I had to find something to fulfill my days. So I bought a guitar. A nice new black Fender Guirar to Keep up on the old tunes and trying to pick up some new ones to rock our way down south.Hours, days and weeks go by as the moment to finally go home gets closer. But before I go a big part of the adventure still lies ahead of me. After Easter I’m going to the South Island with Daniele my Italian cook friend to rent a caravan and go around for three weeks discovering the land of the lords of the ring. I can’t wait to go.
If time is no objection on a trip to Australia I strongly suggest you make your way up from Airlie and stop before reaching Cairns in Townsville. Known for one part for being one o Queensland's biggest student town, it is, for another part, the docking spot of the ferry that will take you to Magnetic Island. Here you will have a definite choice to do. If you stay on the mainland you will be in for another treat of partying, boozing and whole new universe of pub crawling. If your liver cries out for a most deserved rest take a peak at the Island next to you. Two nights on Magnetic will put you back on track for another couple of weeks.
Make your stay either at the coconuts (I know, don't ask) or at Arkies Resort, the most animated spots on such a quiet Island. Take the opportunity to rent a bike (available at the backpackers) and go for a ride around the Island. If you can afford it go for the little cars mini-moke-like. From bay to bay you'll find the enchantment and soon you will be at peace. Located as well on the Great Barrier Reef, Magnetic Island's beaches are made of sand coming from the corrosion of the reef itself. It is quite common to actually find pieces of coral lying on the beach but don't be tempted. It is an offence to take any residues from the beach as dead as they may be. They will enforce an on-the-spot fine starting at 500 AUSD. I had the pleasure to take a swim with a sting ray. Had I known what it could do to me, this story would have turned into a ulogy. Hard to resist at this Island with its 22 bays all worthy of a visit!!! Better done with company than solo but always a must do. The night time will be spent meeting other fellow travellers since each bay works almost as an item. If you are lucky, your conversation will be disrupted by native; the possum.
Rise with the sun and pack a bag that will take keep you for the day. An extra sweater, extra socks, a fresh t-shirt, a meal, a snack and a lot of water. Hit the road or should I say the tracks. The inside of the Island is composed by hills and mountains filled with hiking tracks for one to spend some time in the nature (about 24 km according to my guide and the highest point at 497 meters).Even if you are not a big hiking fan I strongly suggest you start walking. By the time you'll get to the top of the highest hills, you'll find the forts build during WWII. Magnetic Island was a strategic point in the conflicts between Japan and Australia. If you keep your eyes open, you might even find some koalas high up in the eucalyptus trees that built this tropical forest. Even more, if you a god damned lucky bastard, you'll even see them in action. They sleep 20 hours a day, the little things and all I got to see was some live snoring!!!
Don't get attached to those babies since you can’t get too close and there is quite a walk back with little sunlight ahead.
It's time to go, some more adventures await for us.
As I woke up the same recurrent thought came back: "I am never drinking again. But this time I am sticking to it..." The fan on the ceiling turns quickly trying to bring some freshness into the air. Imagine trying to get water out of a sinking boat with a teaspoon and you´ll get an idea on how effective this fan really is. It's not even eight in the morning and already the temperature is above thirty degrees. The humidity is over 80% and I wont get started on the amount of mosquitoes having a rest after an "all-night-er" of feast at our expenses. Add some B.O. and the headache I am blessed with this morning and you'll understand how great of a morning I am having. This would be considered OK if it had happened only once, but believe it or not it's almost a typical morning routine. Where am I? On the Shore of Queensland, about three and a half hours away by plane from Sydney and 25 km away from the biggest living entity in the world. I am in one of the most crossed city by backpackers of Australia making it one hell of a party town down under so if you are looking for art and museums, take your business else where. Ladies and Gentlemen let me introduce you to Airlie Beach. Just on shore of the Whitsunday Islands right on the Great Barrier Reef, this is an unmissable part of Australia. Ironically these wonderful blues waters cannot be swum in. From October till may, the southern hemisphere's summer, the shores are overwhelmed with Portuguese Caravels (extremely poisonous jelly fish) as they use this place for breeding. The solution? A man made lagoon shaped swimming pool right next to the beach. You can enjoy the sea breeze while taking a bath in a perfectly sanitised environment, or can you? Even though it is lit at night, the lagoon is itself used as a breeding place for drunken backpackers and if you talk to the locals they will tell you it´s true name: the sperm bank. Don´t let this stop you from going for a bit of a dip and as soon as you'll have enough sunburns take your towel and hit the town. Airlie was built around it´s main street long the beach shore. You´ll find places to eat for every taste and budget. Even though small some big brands have made way in giving you again the opportunity to prove that KFC, McDonald's, Subway and Domino's have a great knowledge on how to make the same bad flavoured full fat meal anywhere in the world. Takes care of the hang over though. I take back what I said, these guys are vital to our survival over here. Enjoy the shops and start to plan your sailing trip to the Whitsunday Islands. Generally a three days two nights cruise on sailing boats. Snorkeling for amateurs and some real diving for the experts. The most wonderful fishes and corals ever are little trip away. Some awesome hikes around the islands and as soon as the sun sets, drinking time starts on the boat. Breath taking sun rises and sunsets, an once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity not to miss. The place to stay? Magnum´s backpackers right on the main street. Even if you don´t stay there, it is where the night gets going. Combine a Happy Hour, beer jugs and long wooden tables and you will get the best cocktail to meet fellow backpackers as yourself. By ten o'clock you'll head down to magnum's own disco M@ss where something happens every night. Pole dancing competition, jelly wrestling, wet t-shirt contest, foam party,etc. Anything that will get ladies wet, men scream their throats off and give every one a good time, some great laughs and pictures to send to your mates back home, they will have it on. If you are still kicking and not on your way for some "quality time", head down to the Irish pub further down the street. Remember that the lagoon will be given to the first ones to get there. In the pub the live band will make you remember you own Irish pub back home and chant all the rock n roll classics we all know. Down a few pints and go up the stairs to "Tricks". Once done cross the street to Mamma Africa to mingle with the local crowd. Get drunk till you get kicked out by the bouncers and zig zag your way back to your bungalow. Make sure you hit the right one as they all look alike and get yourself a earned rest. Plenty more to come tomorrow.
