26^th August 2016. The day I finally left Ayr. After almost 4 months I was free to depart farmland and carry on my merry way…

But before we continue, let me tell you what’s happened since the last blog. Not much. My rash has developed further and we enjoyed a farm family weekend away to Townsville, which became a very messy affair and certain people almost missed the bus because they were too busy enjoying fish and chips (and rightly so). Then my toenail fell off. AGAIN. Then I picked at least another 26 splinters from my baby monkey hands (my hands are now so dry and decrepit they look like I’ve been swinging from trees and resemble those hands you could only assume belong to a baby monkey). And then Megan was at work picking cucumbers when she casually severed her wrist with her clippers and had to go and get stitches. Honestly, you wouldn’t believe the lengths some people will go to to get out of farm work.  Then myself and Liam found a free waffle maker in a random yard and we became the waffle masters of Ayr Backpackers.

Apart from that it was just the usual episodes of sore backs, giggles and break downs. The ultimate break down came from Andrea when she could no longer take the noise coming from the toilet flush. “HONESTLY CAN SOMEBODY PULL THAT FLUSH UP! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE, I JUST CAN’T TAKE IT!!!” To be fair it’s highly irritating listening to gushing water when you’re trying to sleep but Andrea seemed extremely reluctant to adapt to this noise and I honestly believe it will haunt her for the rest of her life. More so than farm work itself. It didn’t bother me, I was too preoccupied with my rash. Obviously. Then I almost stepped on a brown snake, and yes, yes I did poo my pants and run so fast the other girls hadn’t even mustered a blink before I’d made it the 700m back to the shed.

Oh, and I got a bit drunk one night and didn’t wake up for work. Even with my three alarms going off.  And then I fell over trying to put my pants on in sheer panic when I realised how late I was and cracked my head on the concrete floor. Naturally nobody cared. Andrea (she’s in the bed next to me) was too busy having an argument with the toilet flush, Megan was thinking of other methods of self harm that would bide her a few extra days off work and Liam was cheerily whipping up some waffles.

And then suddenly it was 26^th August. The day I finally left Ayr. After almost 4 months I was free to depart farmland and carry on my merry way. And emotional it was, leaving my home, my new family and people I now call friends. I was ready to be released into the real world. Maybe.

And because I’m now a pro farmer I thought it only right to share with you some of the important things I learnt about farm work…

• Firstly farm work is not easy. People may tell you this beforehand but it never really hits home until you experience it firsthand. As far as I’m concerned it’s in the same bracket as giving birth and running an ultra marathon – nothing can prepare you for it, even the horror stories don’t do it justice. Just for the record I haven’t ever given birth – I’m just going off general consensus here.

• Contradicting the above point – farm work is not easy UNLESS you are the lucky b*****d who gets a job driving a boom. Or a tractor. I mean seriously – that’s not a job, driving around watching everyone else crippling themselves picking and planting. Just for the record if you are the lucky b*****d who drives the boom do not have the audacity to complain about being tired or your back hurting. You may well get a rotten eggplant thrown at your head.
• You will truly understand the meaning of the words ‘back pain’. You thought you’d had back ache before, now you realise that was like comparing tripping up the curb to falling off a multi-storey building.
• You will walk around the supermarket as a fruit and veg connoisseur, judging every eggplant in sight, “that one has sun damage”, “this one is way too old”. You now know all there is to know about your particular vegetable and feel completely within your rights to analyse these in store.
• You will end up totally embracing the luminous hi-vis worker tops and actually end up liking them. I’m now quite attached to mine. Even though I look giant glowing bogey.

• You will also appreciate Australian straw hats that you never previously understood. It’s amazing how much they do actually keep you cool. And it makes you feel really farmery. Obvs.
• Drinking alcohol becomes a necessity. Mainly because it’s the only thing left in your life to look forward to. That and a $5 Dominoes on a Sunday night.
• Your favourite part of the day will be riding around the field on the ute. It never gets boring and you always feel pretty cool doing it. Until a bird flies into your face that is. Or you fall off the back and break a toe.

• You will learn that chilli picking is the biggest form of slavery known to man (and I’m not even being dramatic) and to be avoided at all costs. Mainly because no one wants to work for 9 hours for a grand total of 89 cents.
• Getting free food is an absolute blessing. I don’t know what I’ll do now I have to spend money on buying fruit and veg. What, you expect me to pay for this butternut?! You’ve got to be joking…
• Your feet will never be clean again. Ever.

• Flies and mosquitoes will become your nemesis. I have come to the conclusion that they are rude, inconsiderate and totally unnecessary to the existence of this planet. Especially when sat chilling on my eyelids.
• Your farm friends will become your lifeline. They are the only people who know what you’re going through and they make life bearable, fun even. They are the ones who make your farm work enjoyable. They are the reason you survive and *gulp* actually like your time on the farm. You love them. They are your family.
• You are extremely lucky if you can survive 88 days without contracting some sort of ailment, whether that be an allergic reaction, trench foot, trapped nerve or just a rock melon to the head. During my farm work everyone wandered round sporting a rash. Rashes are actually pretty fashionable on the farm. I should know, I invented them.

• Leaving will be bitter sweet. You will look forward to the day you can up and leave wafting your signing off sheet in your splintered hands, but when that moment comes you will wonder if you are actually ready to be released into the outside world again. How will you cope wearing clothes that aren’t stained with mouldy zucchini? And more to the point do you have any clothes that aren’t stained with mouldy zucchini? Is it acceptable, when in civilisation, to eat a melon by cracking it on the floor and scooping out the insides with your hands? How do you eat with a knife and fork? How do you even catch a bus? What does a bus look like? It’s been so long you can’t remember. Is it like a long tractor??? God only knows how you’d cope boarding a plane.
• You will leave looking back on your farm life with a smile on your face. You will take away treasured memories and friends for life. Despite the traumas and breakdowns you will always have a place in your heart for the experience that was farm work. There may even be times when a small part of you misses it, especially your farm family.

Because despite the negatives farm life is fun life.

 It’s hard work. It’s tiring. It’s draining. It’s dramatic. But I had the best time. I met the best people. I laughed until I cried, numerous times. I fingered mouldy eggplants on a daily basis. I went through thousands of pairs of socks. I developed a rash so big it could have taken over Queensland. I laughed some more. I realised my back would never be the same again. I made friends that made my experience unforgettable. I made lots of mistakes. I gained an unfathomable amount of splinters. I created fond memories. I developed unlimited respect for my co workers. I truly learnt the importance of laughter.

Because despite the negatives I had one of the best experiences of my life.

 I was 88 days a slave. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.