There comes a time in every vagabonding mission when the best course of action is to shovel shit for room and board, and now was my time. Upon the recommendation of one of the greatest WWOOFers the world has ever known (the aforementioned David Koblos), I headed out to Otamatea Ecovillage in Kiawaka. My hosts, Robert and Marijke, were about a decade into transforming an unassuming 5 acres into a veritable Permaculture Oasis, and doing a splendid job. From raising animals to establishing a lush and productive garden to building a full-blown castle (which absolutely MUST be included in the next LLoyd Kahn owner-builder anthology), they have totally lived the Permaculture dream of DIY self-sufficiency coupled with community-mindedness and respect for the Earth. I was privileged to be immersed in such an environment surrounded by such creative, talented, and downright brilliant people (one son is a National Geographic photographer in the making, while the other is recording an album in Auckland under with the Early Worms), I almost didn't mind standing knee-deep in compost or slinging concrete or herding cattle or watching pigs being slaughtered. It's all in the name of living up to your ideals without compromise.
However, my feet began to itch once again (and it wasn't just the abundant mozzies), so I had to bid the ter Veers adieu and hit the road to more Northerly locales. Right before I was about to set off on another solo gig, a fellow WWOOFer decided to go along for the ride. Since she was American, I figured we could share existential/spiritual conundrums as well as gas money. The horse shit scraped from our boots and MP3 player recharged, it was time to head to the Tropic of Capricorn (or at least until Highway 1 ends).
*Gratuitous Book Plug Alert* Speaking of Tropic of Capricorn, I began rereading for the 98th time one of the great Masterpieces of 20th century literature, or at least 20th century literature focusing on boozing, whoring, and avoiding work at all costs. Crazy Willie Mayne eating fried bananas off the floor, Henry running out on MacGregor when it comes time to pay for the drinks, and the ribald insanity of the Cosmodemonic Telegraph Company of North America: it's all in this brilliant story of a guy who chucks everything overboard trying to sail to Paradise.
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