New Beginnings

Okay, it's been a while since I've actually updated this but I've had good reason!
After returning home from a two week break in England, I arrived back to the hostel to find it was a hot bed of contempt towards our bosses as nothing had changed whilst I'd been away, we were still earning next to nothing yet still expected to pay rent.

So we did what any rational group of backpackers would do... We staged a mass walk out after finding a new hostel to move to, obviously.
Over the space of 5 days, nearly 20 people abruptly left the hostel. What we didn't realise was that said mass walk out would cause the place to completely close down and the building to be locked up, which probably prompted a sigh of relief from the surrounding neighbours who all hated us and the local police force who were fed up with issuing us with noise complaints.

Not long after moving out, we discovered what we already knew deep down, but dared not think about. We'd been getting mugged off to an even bigger extent than we'd originally suspected. Our bosses were shaving money off the top of everything we earned and sliding it into their wallets before we even knew we'd earned it. Dicks.
Looking back, it was no wonder they were always turning up to the house with crates of VB (vom) and cider for us. It seemed like a treat but it was probably paid for with the cash we never even knew belonged to us.

After moving to the new hostel, our bosses followed us, waiting outside the grounds to try and confront us, even telling staff they were from immigration as a way to get to us. Though turning up drunk, in high-vis tops and mullet hair-dos, god knows who'd believe they were from immigration. Thankfully, the staff knew exactly who they were and under no circumstances were they allowed to get anywhere near us.

On a plus note, life has gotten a lot better since we all moved! I've actually made money and gained a new set of friends who just LOVE hearing tales about the 'oooooold hostel'...
The only downside is we don't have wifi, hence the lack of communication post-England, soz.
I'm currently off work as it's unseasonably hot and the asparagus can't grow (more about that later) so I'm off to laze in the 38 degree sunshine, enjoy your drab Tuesday back home!

(Just for old times sake, here's a photo of the old hostel bunch)

I Got A Brand New Combine Harvester.. (Or To Be More Accurate, A Tractor)

Clearly, life doesn't think I'm being reckless enough already by giving me a quad bike to rag around the farm as this week I've been taking control of a tractor. Yes, a real life farming tractor. I can only imagine many of you wincing at the thought of me controlling such a vehicle. Unfortunately, due to carting round a trailer carrying various wire coils that weigh over 50kgs each, my speed has been limited to one where I can't do much damage even if I wanted to. 

When Laurie and I first arrived in Mildura all those weeks ago, we joked about the potential for any drama happening at the hostel, coining the phrase, 'Farm Dramz,' but up until this week, we've never really had call to use it...

Mid-week, it all kicked off in the hostel. People were planning to strike. Everyone was uncertain about pay and some of them decided to get wasted and plan strike action. Being boring and hoping to stay employed, I refrained from joining the goon pong table and instead spent the evening watching Netflix. 

Until one of the guys at the hostel decided to play the big man after hearing that not everyone was agreeing to the strike. Everyone who knows me knows that I'm not one to shy away from an argument, if something needs saying, I'll be the first to get up and holler the message and this night was no exception. 

After already explaining once that I was going to work and if others wanted to go too, that was totally fine and people who didn't want to go to work could stay at home, the issue just wasn't being let go of. I wasn't going to risk over a month's worth of farm days and potentially losing the contract we had for a day off but it was each individual's decision. This then boiled down to a blazing argument at about 11pm at night outside my bedroom with the afformentioned big man after hearing him still complaining about people going to work before I was bundled into my room by one of the lads who, despite being very drunk, did a very good job at calming me down and amusing me with an anecdote about slave labour and EU regulations.. 

All is well that ends well though, the pay situation was explained and we didn't lose the contract, hooray!