hail minions!

buoght a fresh adapter at said dick smith a few days ago. totaly diferent prongs to my tacky boots one. i wil give it to tarn when i see her. (day 3)did a bit more ringing of fruit picking places today(friday). no one wants us for only a month. we are considering lieing and saying that are avalable for the entire season then quit claiming the work is to hard. i’m not too bothered but the german guy is a bit low on money. as i write (this is from my note pad) i am sitting on a hill in the centre of town, packed with trees(nelson is nown as the city of trees) and a massive church at the top. very picturesk(sp) just had lunch. mcdonalds! very tasty. oddly enough i could find no other take away.
met a girl at the hostel who confirmed that the only way was to lie. she had just come from motueka and had done fruit picking for a week. she said that it was pretty hellish, much strain on limbs. the guy shairing the dorm with me the german guy (johanes) and his pal an american called stuart, said he was going to motouka and could take us there. he was also german and called alex. so johanes and i decided we to phone one last guy tomarrow and if he said no then go to motouka.

day 4? the guy we called was called john morris, but we called him jim morrison becourse that is how johanes read it. he said that he had need of fruit pickers and that we should drop in. johanes got the directions witch was probably a mistake as they proved to be wrong. after enquiring how to get to the place at the help desk of the hostel, the woman in charge rang back and got us a fresh adress. we noted it down on a map. the place was in richmond, witch was on the way to motouka. so we packed our stuff and l;eaped into axel’s car. car was pretty old and it had classy red velvet upholstery. axel was like somone from fear and loathing in las vagas. he drove with one hand at the bottom of the weel smoked like a chimny and seemed to have only a passing interest in the road/pedestrians/trafic. we headed for richmond. things started to go wrong fairly quickly. i had lost myself in a bit of contemplation as the other two were talking in german.but after a while in noticed that johanes could not read a map very well as we seemed to be getting lost on the way to richmond even though it is clearly signposted. as it happens alex did not speak much in the way of english so it would have been pointless for me to take over as map reader. entualy we had to stop in a layby and alex looked at the map. he said something in german to johanes, they both laughed and we sailed away back on course. the instructions we recived stated that we had to folloew the main road and turn of when we saw a big ice cream sign. we headed down the raod for miles but there was no sign to be seen. eventualy the road turned into a undulating dirt track filled with potholes. dust was every were, it flew of the road in great billows, flowing upwards then down in through the open sun roof. in a few momants it was imposible to breath. i had to breath through my shirt, alex seemed unafected. we decided we had gone to far. we also decided to ask directions. we drove to a farm house up a hill. johanes leaped out and asked a person leaning through a window from the outside. maybe reseaving some instruction from this person who did not move an inch, and could have been dead for all i know, johanes went to the front of the house were a guy in a soiled blue vest and wild hair had apeared. after a bit johanes called for me, and i went up there. now i don’t know what the guy had been smoking but as alex remarked later, he (alex) would have liked to have some of it! the guy was iether drugged to the eyeballs or drunk, maybe both, and it seamed johanes was having trouble understanding him. i wasn’t supprised. as far as i could tell it wasn’t english. svesh marr? he gibbered patting his fettid shorts and miming using a pen. we supplied him with one and some paper. grasping the pen in his fist he slowly drew a painstaking map with annotations in an ilaberate cypher. garth erogh! he anounced jabbing the pen at an ilegible word near a squiggle. we all nodded sagely and smiled in a non threatning manner. after thanking him we practicaly ran back the car and i could haer a voice shreaking-go go go!-in my head, as we flung ourselve into it and sped away. after that we drove around aimlesly for a bit curseing jim morrison and his ice cream cones, then decided to go back to richmond. on the way back we spotted a sign, it said apple pickers wanted! alex skided to a halt made a quick U turn and drove at breakneck speed for the farm.
the farmer was away, but his wife talked to us. she asked us if we could work the entire season, johanese went red and mumbled. i blathered somthing about it being quite possible. we basicaly got the job. she said ring when you get accomidation. we whent back to alex and he offered to take us to the nearby moterhome. he ended up taking us to about five and the information centre twice. every were was full. we might possible be aloud to have a bit of ground to sleep on if we had a tent. we didn’t. we finaly let alex go on to motouka after thanking him profusly. he was most generous often waiting for hours wile were made inquirys. no worries it is my holiday my freind. he would say often. so we walked into richmond. johanes had the idea that we could buy a tent and a couple of bycycles and all would be well. i was not perticualy keen on the plan at this point. the idea of going back to the hostel in nelson was becoming more and more atractive. need i mention that it was hellishly hot and by rucksack was gripping my shoulders like a vice. we walked for what seemed like a year to get to richmond. we went to a bike shop. yes we could get cheap bikes for $50 but of course you have to buy a helmet $60 said the bikeman fixing us with a malicous eye. #^%@ the helm. who need a helm? johanes kept repeating as we left the shop. we went to the secon hand shop were a tent might be bought. it was closed. so was every other shop, it seemed that the shops close at 12.30 on saturday. the only shop open that would sell tents was a place called warehouse in nelson. arrrg! said johanese. so we went to nelson. we walked for an age from the bus station to the warehouse. the tents were sold out. sh*t said johanes many times. we sat down in the camping aisle and discussed what to do. i decided i had had up to the neck to day and way going back to the hostle and that i never wanted to pick apples anyway. johanes decided to hitch a ride to motouka as he couldnt face spending more money at the hostel. we parted in a flurry of photos and e-mails and went our seperate ways.

blimey this is costing me an ingot of gold!!! better go nothing much has happend today (day5) bourt some crisps, not bad. i think i may do the oba tasman trek at some point very recomended. got to go