Life in wine country

Since late March our home base has been in the Marlborough Region of the South Island where vineyards cover the landscape. After bottling some wine at a fancy winery we spent a couple weeks sporadically picking grapes during the harvest. We had heard that a few weeks after the last grapes were picked the winter pruning season would begin and this was a good time to save up some traveling cash. Upon returning from our South Island road trip, our bank accounts were in need of some serious fattening so we settled in and waited for the pruning to begin. When the first few jobs trickled in we spent some very frustrating days struggling to earn about $60-70 dollars a day. But as we gained experience and bounced from one contractor to the next we eventually began earning more substantial paychecks. For the past month we had the good fortune of working for one of the higher paying contractors of the region. Theresa has proved to be a speedy vine trimmer and wrapper and I have held my own as a vine pruner and stripper.  The main focus for the past two months has been work- though we have had some fun weekends with friends down the road staying at the hostel/historic tavern. Our only road-trip since the South Island tour has been an overnight jaunt to the golden beaches and clear blue water of Abel Tasman National Park (a trip that convinced us that we must someday return to NZ to further explore this coastal paradise). We've been sharing a house with a few other couples so we've enjoyed a little more comfort and space than we experienced living amongst backpackers in the hostels. Today was our last day of work in the vineyards before we pack up and drive to Auckland in order to catch our flight to Australia. It felt like the first day of summer (though we are in the middle of NZ winter) as we left the vineyard. 

Here is a little piece I wrote towards the beginning of our vineyard pruning experience: 

Vineyard sunrise

A day in the vineyard-

I often wake before the alarm, anticipating the dreadful beeping. Sometimes the aching in my arms and hands has had me up for hours anyway. I put on smelly clothes which are sometimes still damp from the previous days sweat. It’s too cold in this room for even a little perspiration to dry off- kiwi’s apparently don’t believe in insulation or central heating. After a quick breakfast I step outside into the darkness of predawn Marlborough- wine country New Zealand.

The whole crew of backpackers- German, French, Japanese, etc.- as well as a handful of locals- Maori and Pakeha- are gathered at the Mobil gas station while the bosses arrange the rides. With one hand pointing and the other holding a cell phone they proudly direct their crew of weary workers. After a few minutes we pull out and follow the caravan of vehicles off to another vineyard. A day of pruning vines is about to begin.

Sauvignon Blanc vines

We arrive and it’s still dark. But the sky is showing signs of the coming day. Soft pinks, reds fade into blue, replacing the black sky as countless stars melt away. The rooster crows and it seems to me that he may be laughing at this miserable assortment of men reluctantly emerging from our vehicles. We grab our weapons- long, red-handled loppers- and run our fingers along the blades. Our warm-up for the coming physical marathon consists of scraping the sharpening file along the blade to touch up the edge and hearing a somewhat degrading, always humorous “pep-talk” from the bosses. This usually comes as some form of “don’t screw it up” while challenging our manhood, pushing us to work harder and faster. This job is a “Piece of piss” they say- that’s kiwi for “No Problem”- and we are on our way. A seemingly endless row of bushy vines waits.

I can see my breath and as the first blade slices old cane the sunrise is in full effect. Any other time it would be a Kodak moment- vineyards surrounded by mountains in all directions beneath an awakening sky. But now there is work to be done: two nubby spurs on each side for next years growth; five or six healthy and sturdy, yet flexible canes left, some of which will be wrapped around the fruiting wires for the coming year’s harvest to emerge from. Two spurs and five or six canes. That’s all that should remain of the plant. The rest of the bushy, tangled mess needs to be chopped up and stripped away.

The process goes like this: first find your spurs and leave two visible buds- snip, snip; then sift through the head of the plant and locate three healthy canes on each side to save, trying to keep them as low and close to the head as possible; now chop, hack, and smack the rest of the mess away from the center of the plant; lastly cut the thick vines wrapped around the metal wire (the cordon), being careful not to dull or chip your blade on the wire. The more you cut and the better placed your cuts are, the easier it is to strip the old canes out. And stripping is where the real fun lies. You grab hold of as many tangled canes as you can, lean back and twist, trying to use the weight of your body to free the curled and twisted tendrils desperately latching on to the wires and remaining canes. Don’t forget to turn your head and pray to the vineyard gods that one of the stubborn canes doesn’t snap back and smack you in the face. But also accept that you will be smacked- dozens of times- every day. Safety goggles are recommended, but rarely worn. I learned first-hand how useful eye protection can be when an exceptionally wicked cane smacked my face with such force that the left lens of my glasses popped out! You can always tell when the people around you are stripping vines due to the plethora of exasperated curses and grunts delivered in various accents. The bosses actually encourage cursing, viewing it as a sign that you are in fact working hard- that you are manning up.

And it is hard work. I’ve experienced my share of physical labor over the years, but this tops them all. Mainly because it is contract work- 45 cents for each plant pruned and stripped. So you must be fast and efficient. Every man has his own row. And while how you measure up to the person next to you has no effect on your pay, it is a race.  Everyone is aware of who is fast and who is slow. And the frustration of wrestling with tangled vines all day is only amplified when the worker next to you seems to be cruising down his row at twice your speed. While I have experienced this feeling, I can take solace in the fact that there are plenty of workers who are slower than me, and many more that have already quit.

All of us workers are well aware of the perceived romance of working in a vineyard. We’ve read stories, seen movies which portray plump grapes growing along rolling hills beneath sunny skies. A vineyard is a place to work the earth, breathe fresh air, and perhaps fall in love with the bosses’ beautiful daughter. But amongst the backpackers of New Zealand, a vineyard is a place to swallow your pride and commit yourself to long days of exhausting work with minimal breaks until you’ve racked up enough meager paychecks to continue traveling. And where nights are often spent working the “midnight shift”- tossing and turning in nightmarish sleep as you struggle your way through never-ending, sometimes even multiplying vines!  

Actually, if you have the good fortune to land in the vineyards during the harvest, your experience will bear a more similar resemblance to the romantic picture painted by Hollywood. Grape picking, while sticky and monotonous, is much less physically taxing than pruning. While you must still work fast, the fact that it is hourly work negates the sense of urgency. And of course there are the obvious perks- an endless supply of juicy grapes to snack on while you are filling buckets. There is always time to snatch a choice grape, swirl the juice around in your mouth, and spit out the seeds as you continue to the next bay.

And where there are grapes, there is wine. If you’re working on the right vineyard you might enjoy a bit of wine tasting when the work day is done. You can also take advantage of the days off by touring the local vineyards to taste the region’s world famous sauvignon blanc- crisp, refreshing, with hints of various citrus flavors. There’s also the sweet late harvest reisling to enjoy. Though if you’ve picked late harvest grapes, filled buckets with large clumps of dried grapes covered with mold, you may be reluctant to give it a try. I recommend you do.    

My ride to the vineyard and fellow work mates

Vineyard rainbow

Theresa's ride to the vineyard- driven by Lavinia our friend from Boston

The vines after Theresa has finished wrapping them

So, yes, there are perks to sweeten the grueling physical labor and mental monotony of tending the vines for us migrant workers to focus on. And there is a lot of time and space to daydream beneath the skies of Aoteaora- the land of the long white cloud. But when you’re racing the clock, trying to earn a decent day’s wage, you need to keep moving. In fact there is barely time to stop and eat. The work days fly by and blend into one another. However, every now and then you must take a moment to have a quick glance around. When you do, you may be pleasantly surprised to realize you are working in the midst of an idyllic surroundings- picture horses and sheep grazing on the banks of a gurgling stream bordering the vineyard. Another Kodak moment. But there’s no time to snap a photo- the vines are waiting.

South Island Road Trip

We set off in the beginning of May to finally see what everyone raves about when they visit New Zealand- the wild and rugged South Island.  Since we were able to store some stuff at the house we’ve been living in, we were able to travel lighter- Theresa even convinced me to leave the guitar at home! However, traveling lighter does not always mean traveling faster, as we soon found out. But it does mean traveling more comfortably, especially since we slept most nights in the back of our trusty Mitsubishi Legnum. Here is a summary of a typical day on the road….

Waking to various sounds: gurgling rivers, rolling waves, morning birdsongs, cars cruising by, or rain tapping on the roof of the car. All bundled up in our sleeping bags beneath a heavy blanket to stay warm and rising to the reluctant, late autumn sun burning its way through the morning haze or sometimes no sun at all with heavy clouds there to stay for the duration of the day.  We’d quickly change from nighttime thermals to our not so clean, worn everyday clothes- (me the same jeans for two weeks and t-shirts rotating every couple days) roll up our sleeping bags and thin air mattresses, fold the seats back to upright, rearrange backpacks, cooler, and suitcases. We got quite adept at this transformation of the Legnum from sleeping quarters back to means of transportation. Then we’d have a little cereal (it was cold enough for milk to stay unspoiled for a couple days with no ice) and head off to our first destination of the day. If there was a town nearby, our first stop was often a café for a little mocha or tea to start the day.

The lonely planet guidebook was our bible- telling of local hikes and sights to see. I-sites with friendly and informative folks pointing us in the right direction were helpful as well. Late mornings and afternoons were spent on various short hikes- through lush rainforests to view gushing waterfalls or huge, twisting Totara trees; along rugged beaches looking for fur seals and sea lions, keeping an eye out for dolphins; walking through small towns in parks amongst brilliant autumn colors or browsing the local shops. If we were disciplined enough, we subsisted on pbj sandwiches, granola bars, and sausage & cheese for lunch. When our cravings got the best of us it was savory meat pies with their flaky crusts and hearty fillings.

The days were short and slipped away quickly as we searched the DOC (Department of Conservation) booklet for a quiet and safe place to settle for the evening. This typically led us down winding gravel roads to a remote beach or lake, usually arriving in the dark. When the seats were folded down and the bed was made, dinner was cooked on our little camp stove- many grilled cheese sandwiches and cups of soup were consumed, with the occasional baked beans or heated up spaghetti and salad. Usually we ate in the tight, but cozy quarters of the Legnum- dinner in bed- but sometimes we dined outside, beneath the evening sky if the weather permitted. After some journal writing and reading it was bedtime.

The DOC sites were minimal, with just a pit toilet and a cold-water tap. So occasionally we treated ourselves to Holiday Parks and the comforts of a kitchen to cook slightly more complex and satisfying dinners- think burgers or fresh spaghetti-, flushing toilets, hot showers in the morning, and sometimes even a little television for some mind-numbing entertainment. Early on in the trip we splurged on some warm beds in a few backpackers (hostels) due to the non-stop rain, Theresa’s worsening cold, and the fact that our bank accounts were slightly less depleted at the beginning of the trip!  

Highlights-

Seaside paradise- Kaikoura

Fur Seal

Kaikoura- Setting off on a clear, crisp autumn day (after a couple days of rain) leaving the vineyards of Blenheim with their colorful leaves clinging to the vines we drove over rolling hills to or first destination- the seaside town of Kaikoura, with its abundance of marine wildlife and rugged snowcapped mountains in the distance. Here we saw our first fur seals lazing about on the rocks at low tide as well as many sea birds. Walked up the peninsula track rising above the sea and then down into another bay which was filled with more fur seals soaking up the sun. Decided to walk back to the car park along the rocky coastline. But with the rising tide, high cliffs and a couple of seals blocking up the rapidly disappearing path along the coast, we decided to turn around and hike back up to the higher peninsula track. A beautiful day in Kaikoura and a perfect way to start our road trip!

Totora Tree in the Peel Forest

Slow morning in Geraldine- We camped in the Peel Forest (few hours southwest of Christchurch) on a dark and rainy Friday night. The next morning, after a short hike to view some huge Totora trees in the forest, we spent a few relaxing hours checking out the charming little town of Geraldine. Walked through a riverside park and along a trail with bright autumn leaves clinging to trees and padding the walkway. We had some coffee and a little breakfast at a café, then strolled on over to the Saturday market in a local church hall where heaps of local meat, produce, and artwork were for sale. We shared a tasty cinnamon roll and best of all listened to a duet of two women playing guitar and singing folk songs- they actually played a John Prine tune in the short time that we were there! Everyone was very friendly in this quiet little Saturday morning town.  

Entering the portal

Lake Tekapo

Church of the

good Shepherd in Lake Tekapo

The clouds settle in on Lake Tekapo- Most of the road trip saw us hugging the coast as we explored the South Island. One of the few exceptions involved our side trip to the highly recommended town of Lake Tekapo. Driving along the winding road leading to town we looked down upon the milky blue water that makes the lakes in this region unique. The color comes from tiny particles ground by the glaciers which formed the valleys. Typically the vibrant color of the lake combined with the mountains looming in the distance make for a stunning view. However, the clouds and fog were unrelenting and only worsened when we decided to hike up Mt. John overlooking the lake. All views were obscured as we walked into the clouds and the rain came showering down.  After a couple days of enduring the rain, cooking outside, and sleeping in the car we decided to treat ourselves to a dry night in a backpacker in Lake Tekapo.

Atop Mt. John

Charmed by Oamaru- Driving under cloudy skies and along nearly flooded roads we came upon the coastal town of Oamaru. Oamaru was a booming port town in the late 1800s with a reputation of being home to some exceptionally seedy characters. When the town went bust just before the turn of the century many of the Victorian style Limestone buildings were left abandoned. It is now a wildlife viewing destination as well as a thriving artist community where residents clearly embrace the town’s rich and raucous history. After checking in at an old hotel turned backpacker we drove south out of town hoping to view a colony of the rare yellow-eyed penguins. A dirt road led us out to a light house and a steep path led us down to an amazing view- to the north, an expansive coastline scattered with plump fur seals lazing about just beyond the reach of crashing waves and to the south a quiet sheltered bay. We arrived a little late (as usual) to see the penguins make their daily arrival on the beach but were able to get some up close views of them as they made their way to their evening nests. Amazing to be so close to these fascinating creatures- so comical and human-like with their rounded bellies and upright posture.

Art Car in Oamaru

Yellow-eyed penguin

The next day found us walking the streets of Oamaru, exploring the historic district, checking out art galleries, learning about the local “steam-punk” movement, and admiring all of the beautiful old limestone buildings. I’m sure Theresa could have spent at least a week in this charming coastal town but with more sights to see down the  road and our first sunshine in days, we were soon on our way…

Steampunk culture here is huge

Steampunk art

Moeraki Boulders

Penguins coming ashore- After getting a taste of penguin viewing near Oamaru, we were keen to meet some more of these dignified, yet comical creatures as we pulled into Dunedin and the Otago Peninsula. Once we learned of a colony of small blue penguins nesting near the tip of the peninsula we made plans to view their evening arrival on the beach. And this time we got there early- actually about an hour early so we had plenty of time to find a comfortable place to sit and relax on some steps leading down to the beach. A few other tourists soon gathered near us as the sun went down and we continued to patiently wait. Then they came. Actually just one came at first. It swam ashore, waddled up the rocky beach and out of sight in the darkness. Before long we heard a little rustling in the beach grass nearby and soon after the little blue penguin walked right past my feet (I was standing at this point), near where Theresa was kneeling, and up the steps of the path that we had just been sitting on!

Blue Penguin

By this time it was quite dark, but we were hoping to see a few more before we left. Just then a group of about 12 penguins came ashore and once again disappeared, blending in with the rocks and the darkness. Soon they also came rustling through the grass just to my left as I stood quiet and still, waiting for them to pass by me. But they didn’t. The first few stopped, presumably spooked by the tall man and woman and handful of giggling Asian tourists gathered near the pathway. Of course I thought it was the movement and noise coming from the Asian girls that had created this penguin traffic jam, since I was standing completely still and the previous penguin had practically walked right over my hiking shoes.  But these penguins were not going for it. After a few minutes, I decided to move about 8 ft out of the way, opening up their path to the steps. And sure enough, along they came: a line of little blue penguins waddling right past us like a group of chattering kindergarteners on their way to the lunchroom. It was so dark at this point that we could actually hear and smell them better than we could see them! Quite a surreal moment! A few days later we had our most unimpeded look at a colony of penguins coming ashore as we watched and snapped photos in the clear daylight from a viewing shack near Nugget Point. But that night on the beach at the Otago Peninsula was our closest and definitely most exhilarating encounter with penguins!   

Taeiri Gorge Railway

Royal Albatross Chick

Royal Albatross in flight

Sampling beer at Speights Brewery in Dunedin

Nearly stranded on the Otago Peninsula- Since Dunedin and the Otago Peninsula have a lot to offer in terms of sight-seeing we ended up spending three days there.  Some of the highlights included a train ride up the scenic Taieri River Gorge, a tour and some beer tasting at the Speights Brewery, seeing a milk chocolate waterfall at the Cadbury factory, walking up the world’s steepest street, and viewing Royal Albatross soaring at the tip of the peninsula. We stayed a couple nights at a campsite on the peninsula and the morning we were getting ready to leave a gust of warm air was followed by some very intense winds. As we drove down to the road running along the bay and back to the mainland we saw some huge waves crashing up against the bank. We didn’t think too much of it at first since there was just a little water spraying up on the road. But as we made our way to the lower and more exposed sections of the road we saw the waves crashing violently over the road and scattering rocks from the shore all over the road. Rounding one bend we could see it would only get worse the further we drove. The thought of getting stuck with no place to turn around or worse, getting swept out to sea by a huge wave (as unlikely as it seems, the thought did cross our minds) combined with the van that had turned around in front of us kept us from completely rounding that bend.  Instead we quickly backed up, turned around and drove back towards the campsite. Clearly the low, coastal road was not a viable option on this windy morning. Our only other option for getting off the peninsula was the winding and steep “Highcliff Rd,” so that’s the route we took. After maneuvering our way around some large broken branches in the road we eventually made it off the Otago Peninsula after a very exciting and somewhat frightening morning!

Cadbury Chocolate Factory

Baldwin St.- the world's steepest street

More Yellow Eyed Penguins making their evening arrival

Nugget Point

A sunrise in the Caitlins- The Catlins consist of a variety of isolated beaches, forests, and rolling hills in the southeastern part of the Island. On our first night there we rolled about 15 km along a gravel road to a DOC campsite on an isolated beach and spent a calm, relatively warm evening cooking and dining beneath the stars. In the morning we woke to an amazing sunrise over the South Pacific. After Theresa snapped a few photos she opened up the hatchback and we watched the day begin from the comfort of our bed/car. 

Sunrise from our bed in the Legnum

Cathedral Cave

Jurassic Era fossilized tree in Currio Bay

The desolate southern coast- As we cruised around the southern tip of the island there were many sights to see including crashing waves, 180 million year old fossilized trees on the beach and walking through sheep pastures to the southernmost point at Slope Point. However, the most entertaining part of this portion came from observing sea lions engage in some kind of male dominace/mating show on the beach. After seeing numerous fur seals along the east coast we were in search of sea lions- particularly the immense adult males. We finally found them at Waipapa Point. And man did they put on a show for us. Typically fur seal/sea lion viewing does not involve seeing much action. But this group of six were very lively and feisty. It was difficult to tell exactly what was happening, but it seemed that there were a few females amongst them and the larger males were continuously charging, biting, and thrashing at each other trying to protect there harems. A very violent and entertaining show indeed- and thankfully none of them were seriously injured during the ordeal!

Porpoise Bay

Slope Point- southernmost point of the South Island 

The feisty sea lions

Theresa holding our paua shell in honor of this giant paua scupture

Surf sculpture

Entering Fiordlands

Mitre Peak in Milford Sound

 The mystical Fiordlands- After rounding the tip of the South Island, we were northbound once again- this time along the West Coast. Driving north, the jagged, lush mountains of the Fiordlands were shrouded in a cloud of mist to our left so unfortunately our views were obscured once again. Eventually we began driving into the heart of this region, headed towards the tourist destination of Milford Sound. Our first night we camped along a river with steep cliffed mountains oozing with waterfalls surrounding us on all sides. The next day we drove over the pass, above snow line and then into the town (which consists of a harbor of tour boats and a lodge). While the clouds persisted, every now and then a slight break would offer a brief view of the unique landscape. With the weather a bit too cold and nasty for a kayak trip we booked a two hour scenic cruise along the fiords and out to the mouth of the Abel Tasman Sea. On our way back to harbor we had the good fortune of having some playful bottle-nosed dolphins join us for a little surf on the bow of our boat. While it would have been nice to have clear, unblocked views with blue skies, the persisting wind and rain and the waterfalls that came along with it certainly added to the dramatic effect!

A playful dolphin in Milford Sound

We found snow on the pass leaving Milford Sound

Mirror Lake

Bright moon in Queenstown- The clouds finally cleared as we drove out of Fiordland National Park and headed towards the scenic and adrenaline junky town of Queenstown. As was often the case, we arrived at or destination and were searching for a campsite in the dark.  After driving nearly ten km along a gravel road we arrived at a lake surrounded by snowcapped mountains. As we were cooking up a little dinner we were greeted by a near-full moon rising above the mountains, illuminating our entire campsite and eliminating the need for a flashlight. In the morning we woke to blue sky and freezing temperatures. We took advantage of the clear skies and went for a hike up Queenstown Hill and enjoyed the 360 degree views of various mountain ranges and the vibrant Lake Wakatipu below. After spending an afternoon perusing the streets we left the tourist town with its countless gift-shops and bars behind.

Campsite near Queenstown

Sculpture on Queenstown Hill- The Remarkable Mts in background

Atop Queenstown Hill

Walking to Franz Joseph Glacier

A day on a glacier- The last leg of our trip involved a drive along the fabled west coast with its isolated beaches, small towns, greenstone, pesky sand-flies, and glaciers! We took a brief look at the Fox Glacier, but were unable to actually get on it without booking a tour. So the next day we booked a full day tour on Franz Joseph Glacier and set off early for an unforgettable experience. After hiking up the valley which was carved out by this retreating glacier, we strapped on our crampons and started exploring the immense chunk of ice. The glacier was a playground of pathways, clear flowing streams, massive boulders and chunks of ice, deep narrow crevasses, and even a few tunnels. Overall it was an other-worldly and surreal experience that neither one of us will ever forget!

Go Blazers! Maybe next year...

On the glacier

Entering a glacial tunnel

Gathering water in glacial stream- the glacier acts as a natural filter

Franz Joseph Township

The rest of our trip involved a few stops along the coast, greenstone (jade) shopping, and listening to Simon and Garfunkel’s concert in the park as we made our way back to the vineyards of Blenheim, extremely road weary and ready for our warm, comfortable bed.

Our dashboard artwork collage