The Many Faces of Mt. Barker

It’s Autumn in Wanaka.  The leaves paint the landscape with their warm colors.  The mornings are fresh and the afternoons are sunny.  The grass often has frost and crunches under your feet.  It’s quiet out here. The only noise comes from male deer calls, bird songs, and the rare mammalian species, Bernie. The property resides on a mountain (or near there, rather) called Mt. Barker.  In my first week there I spent my time harvesting veggies from the garden, light housecleaning, and of course, cooking.  I was welcomed in the house and quickly formed a connection with both Anne and Bernie, both extremely different.  We molded as a family, and as new WWOOFers came in, they saw that and swore I’d been living there much longer. 

We had the first set of WWOOFers come in from Maine, Brandon and Mason.  Bernie began to tell them I was his niece, and it was easy to believe.  The farm at Mt. Barker acts as a family.  Anyone staying there is very fortunate, as the hosts are generous, kind, and knowledgeable.  There is hardly a dull moment at this place, really.  Most mornings are begun with walking the goats, all four of them, whose names are Whipper, Snipper, Lawn, and Mower.  This task of “walking goats” is a completely ridiculous, yet learning and meditative experience.  You get into the mind of the goat.  You have to talk to them.  Sometimes you have to run at them like a lunatic with your arms flailing up and bizarre noises coming from your mouth.  The trick is really to be smart about feeding them from the bag of nuts you carry.  They are stubborn like any other mammal, and they need to be coaxed with something yummy.  The farm also has six free-range chickens that also like chatting.  Anne and Bernie are convinced speaking to the ladies everyday helps them lay (but only in English, of course).  The other animals (besides the WWOOFers and Bernie) are two dogs, Kozo and Mitsu, and a cat named Tofu.  Yes, this place is full of charm and weird names.  It works well in the scheme of randomness. 

As I soon became the personal chef for the house, I realized I could make anything (just about) that I wanted.  I utilized the fresh produce from the garden, which became quite challenging with the endless courgettes (zucchini) and tomatoes.  I even put them in eggs benedict and mac n’ cheese.  Bernie wasn’t too fond of vegetables, but he didn’t have must jurisdiction in the kitchen, especially if I occasionally made a local Hawaiian dish to his liking. 

In the midst of all the cooking, I began bone carving.  I was initially introduced to the idea after one of Bernie’s Maori friends came over to tie a proper necklace for my current whale bone piece.  A few days later he brought spare whale bone and I started.  What started as a novel idea turned into a creative outlet.  Of course, my first piece wasn’t spectacular, but each piece turned out better.  I even toyed with carving ideas I couldn’t quite comprehend.  The majority of my nights for the next three weeks were associated with carving, drinking whiskey (which I feel helps the creativity), listening to music, and socializing with the WWOOFers and Bernie. 

The majority of the happenings are around either the dinner table or the social (or creative) bench in the shop.  Naturally, the dinner table is a bit more on the formal side (but not THAT formal), which includes saying grace, drinking wine, and eating with a knife and fork.  The creative bench is a bit more raw.  It is said that, at this table, “What happens at Mt. Barker, stays at Mt. Barker.”  So it goes that drinking and smoking are obviously in the picture.  Not to mention, the chocolate.  I’m talking about special chocolate that makes your legs go numb and lasts for 10 hours.  The first night “chocolate” was consumed, it was apparent that we had WAY too much.  I didn’t feel normal until noon the following day.  One of the WWOOFers didn’t feel normal until 24 hours later.  This special chocolate is made on the farm.  And the greens are grown in the garden.  The supply is pretty extensive, and although I don’t smoke, it would be a dream to any stoner.  In place of the greens, I stuck with scotch or bourbon.  Those nights at the creative bench were filled with endless bullshitting and creativity.  This place really is special, and as I said before, those to experience it are quite fortunate. 

In my time at Mt. Barker I was able to spend some good time with Anne, too.  It really was very different hanging out with her.  She’s a scientist, and thinks like one.  A highly intelligent, quick-witted, and kind person.   When I took over the cooking she was able to get back into her art, as she is a paper-maker.  I realized our minds were very alike and methodical.  She taught me how to make some really delicious chutneys and homemade tomato sauce (ketchup).  Anne may be a scientist, but she’s a farm girl at heart.  She grew up on the 70 acre property, doing the hard labor of a man.  She spent the 30 years working as a microbiologist in Australia, and came back to New Zealand to take care of her dying parents.  On a more spiritual note, she’s a healing minister.  Her faith in God, along with her visions, can make anyone question their beliefs (seriously).  She’s highly perceptive and real.  Initially, people think she’s a bit tough or anti-social, but it’s just her way of gauging the environment, which I can appreciate, as I do it myself.  She now spends most of her time playing on the computer, playing with her boy Tofu, or playing with her artwork.  

Bernie is a different story.  He’s on a completely other realm of thinking.  More of a child than an adult, he takes everything at first glance, rather than in stride (as Anne).  Very temperamental and compulsive, he has an interesting past that gives way for a better understanding of him, while giving him complexity (as most don’t realize he is).  His childhood was rough, having an abusive father and ignorant mother.  He’s a typical bad boy.  Broke some rules, paid the price.  Went into the military very young (younger than allowed) and became part of the Special Forces.  He’s traveled around the world jumping out of airplanes, killing, and being promiscuous.  His life has changed since Vietnam, and Anne has him on a tight enough leash that he can enjoy his life in the present.  He now spends most of his time harassing the WWOOFers and woodturning (which he's amazing at).  

In over a month I’ve learned a lot about their family.  They have become my family.  In a place so foreign to me, I have found a home away from home.  As I have always said, “My home is where I choose to be,” and it really has rung true.  My initial perceptions of New Zealand have been so skewed by Lord of the Rings and the unknown.  What I’ve done in the past few months have really been something big and amazing.  The people are the nicest that I’ve come across in the world.  The beauty is inescapable.  New Zealand has always been this mysterious, mystical country.  I understand now why the locals wish to keep it a secret.  When you come here and do it right, you’ll never want to leave.  It is indeed, a home away from home. 

And then there was Wanaka

Jillian and I had been hitchhiking for over a month, so we felt we had it under our belt.  The only thing that bugged me about it was the fact that none of the camper vans ever picked us up.  When we thumbed from Franz we were immediately picked up by a skydive instructor who dropped us off at Fox Glacier, 15 minutes away.  It was in this area that we saw heaps of camper vans, most of which passed us, and some of which gave us the awkward hand signal or attempt at sign language (which I’m still uncertain about).  I really had given up all hope of ever getting picked up by a camper, so when it happened this time we were sure it was a mistake.  We get a lot of people who tend to pull up in front of us, but only to check a map or they get scared of what we look like (I guess?).  We were picked up by a very wealthy German family going right to Wanaka.  The only problem with this (and the only issue we’ve encountered whilst hitching) was that Wanaka was three hours away, which meant three hours of chatting and bullshitting.  Sigh.  You see, most people wouldn't really think of this as an issue, but what you may not realize is that telling your "story" repeatedly is very exhausting, especially with as many rides as we've gotten.  So we rode along and told our stories, got nicely interrogated, and asked questions of our own.  Jill was having a hell of a time, but me, I was having an awful time.  This wasn't because of our new German friends, it was because I get motion sickness.  Now, on all of our rides have been in reasonably small cars on very narrow, loopy roads.  Sometimes in those cars I'd get a little queasy, but that didn't even compare to this ride.  It was like being stuck in the bathroom out on a boat with 10 foot seas.  Didn't do much talking after that, but maintained perfect composure and tried to nestle my way into the front to look out the window (which helps).  When we finally arrived in Wanaka I was glad to be on steady ground.  I was happy for the ride, however, I don't think I'll be hitching in any campers any time soon.

Upon arrival we took a short walk in Wanaka to a backpackers to lay our stuff down and roam around.  Our bags had gotten pretty heavy by now since we brought some honey and chutney with us from Harihari.  We walked around the town in about 20 minutes and admired the Lake Wanaka.  The area is breathtaking, but pretty slow in summer.  It's winter that gets the busiest, since it's huge on snow sports.  We had heard this place was a pretty cool, laid back town, and easy to find employment.  The first thing we did was find work for accommodation, which I found easily at BASE, a three-story backpackers.  They only had one position open, so I decided to take it and Jill would figure out something at the backpackers in which we were staying the night.  It turns out that I'd be starting work the next day and Jill would be starting in two weeks.  It was then that we made a decision to part ways.  She would stay in Wanaka for a couple of days, then make her way down to Milford Sound.  Jill was on more of a time crunch than I was.  She has a plane ticket to fly out in May and I have no ticket to fly out.  Over the next couple of days we randomly ran into Glenn (whom we met in Springfield and drove us to Greymouth) in the grocery store and Maggie (who was WWOOFing with us in Harihari) who just happened to be in town.  I liked running into these people without an agenda.  It was either a sign I was in the right place or this island really is small (maybe both?).  

So Jill leaves and I'm already staying at BASE.  This place is really interesting.  I find it hilarious that I'm a housekeeper for this place that holds 300 people.  Of course, I'm not the only one.  I'm one of seven others that works for accommodation and gets to share one room.  I've found that most of them are just biding their time until they leave because they are bad at budgeting.  Most of them 22 or younger.  Interestingly enough, every night I was woken up by someone in the room yelling or screaming from night terrors.  It was absurd, really.  I guess one night was expected because I filled this Czech girl's head with ideas of an earthquake happening in our room.  That was a fun wake-up call with her shaking the bed and asking if we felt it.  Yeah, creepy.  I spent a week there and learned how to make bunk beds with efficiency (and poise, of course) while learning a few tricks.  After 1pm (when work ended) there wasn't much else to do except a few small hikes in the area and bullshit with the others.  I also looked for a job in this time, but I wasn't able to apply for one because I had one hang-up: my passport.  I'd left my bag long ago in Cambridge before the road trip.  I know, it's dumb that I didn't bring it with me, but when this planned road trip was only supposed to be a week, how could I have known things would go awry and I'd need it?  Positions were passed up because of a lack of passport, so I tried to get it sent to me, but there were issues with that, too.  They were eventually cleared up by Traci, the friend in Cambridge holding my backpack, and I was grateful for that.

Before my week ended at BASE, I called up Bernie, a WWOOF host that Jill and I were supposed to stay with weeks ago after Harihari.  It never worked out, but I kept his number, as he was from Hawai'i and wanted to get together to chat anyway.  Bernie came and picked me up and we went to check out his place 7 km away at Mt. Barker.  His place was truly spectacular, overlooking Wanaka and the surrounding mountains.  His partner, Anne, is a microbiologist and paper-making artist.  Bernie woodturns art himself, and their house is strewn with a creative ambience.  I fell in love with the place with ease, as well as Bernie's generosity and unconventional style.  I was invited to stay for dinner, accompanying two WWOOFers who had been staying there for 2 weeks already.  After dinner we went to a neighbor's million dollar house for a dance party.  Although completely underdressed (sloppy jeans spotted with white paint and a wife beater...yeah, seriously) I went and had a blast.  Open martini bar and 70s retro dance music...it was something out of a movie.  All we needed was Laura Bush and Jim Morrison to complete the well-roundedness of the group.  It was a good night and a full moon.  This was only the beginning of randomness associated with Bernie, and it wasn't until I was invited to stay at his house two days later that I realized that truth.