'Room with a View' Part 2 or: The Singing Washing Machine

And then, it was a warm full moon night and we wanted to watch the fireflies with Cathy, who had settled by a small stream that runs through the property. Suddenly, Richard's phone rang:

'Hello, this is Wayne from 'Bully Hayes' in Akaroa, when can you start here?'

'Well...'

A few hours earlier, we had asked Tim if we could come back to the hostel in Turangi for two more weeks. However, he turned us down because he had already hired other housekeepers. So we decided to spend a few relaxing days with Cathy and Bernie and then slowly travel south to look for a job on site. But now...

Now we had to try to get to the South Island to Christchurch as quickly as possible, which meant that we had to leave our hosts one day earlier than planned. No matter how we turned it, it would take us at least two days to reach our destination. The whole thing became even more difficult when we found out that the restaurant 'Bully Hayes' (Richard's new workplace) is not actually 'directly' located in Christchurch, but rather in a town 1 1/2 hours drive away. And although the connecting road between the two cities is even called Christchurch-Akaroa Road, there are only two shuttles running here every day - both at nine o'clock in the morning! The problem was that our flight would only arrive in Christchurch in the afternoon... So what to do? Bite the bullet and order a taxi. Fortunately, we found a privately run taxi company (the driver, by the way, an old lady named Rosemary... well, this could be interesting!) that would cost about half of what the commercial taxi companies would charge. Still, it was expensive...

On the morning after next, we said goodbye with heavy hearts to Cathy, Bernie, Jed and Zena (the two dogs, who are also part of the family), the little farm, the wind and the avocados, and Cathy took us to the bus station in the nearest big city. From there, we could start our odyssey south...

And it really was an odyssey! After spending eleven hours on the bus, we finally arrived in the windy capital of New Zealand - Wellington, the crossroads between the North and South Island. Our hostel, which we had booked for one night, was really cool. A former art deco hotel. We also had the opportunity to get a taste of the city, which HOPEFULLY we will get to know better in the next few months... The next morning (although we didn't want to miss a detour to the 'New Zealand Portrait Gallery'... and we didn't!) we took the bus to the airport.

It was probably the strangest flying experience I have ever had. Just as we took off to leave the North Island behind, it was already time to 'prepare for landing.' And suddenly we found ourselves in a completely different part of New Zealand. Just like that.

After a short shopping tour at 'New World', we soon met Rosemary, who would transport us to Akaroa in her taxi in the next one and a half hours - hopefully... Rosemary was, to put it in one word, simply lovely, and she told us about her life and her children in a charming way, as only old ladies can. She even offered to give me a roof over my head in case I couldn't live with Richi in the 'staff house', which was still not clear at that time...

Now, after several weeks here, we think we couldn't have made a better choice. Not only do we receive an exorbitant payment, no, we can also live in the staff house for a mere $80 a week, which we share with two colleagues (we have the entire lower floor to ourselves plus our own bathroom), and we get a balanced meal and as much coffee as we want every day... for free! Since I also work as a temp ('front of house' aka 'dishwasher') in a café (the 'Deli' aka 'Escargot rouge'), I often bring home loads of cake and leftovers in the evening (our freezer is overflowing with scones) and sometimes I am showered with cake edges, on which Allison and Donna maliciously pour warm caramel sauce...

Our colleagues/roommates Cass (21 years old and, like Richi, a kitchen helper at 'Bully Hayes' and an aspiring chef) and Donna (self-described as 27 but actually in her early 50s, and the head baker at the 'Deli') are really nice and pleasant. Even though Cass sometimes has her quirks and the habit of always showing up in the living room/kitchen in the evening and starting a conversation - no matter what time it is. She also finds it very difficult to switch off from work, which is why she often talks about it. But she's actually okay... Donna is the 'mother of the house' and besides her calming manner, she has a wonderful sense of humor. Unfortunately, we don't see her outside of work that often because she goes to bed early (understandably... when the alarm clock rings at 5 o'clock in the morning) and on her days off she always goes to her house in Christchurch...

In addition to Donna and Cass, we also have really charming other colleagues... Love (actually Lovepreet) from India has already invited us to an Indian rose drink, and Allison brought me homemade German bread and promised to show me how to bake it...

What else... oh yes, maybe I should also say a few words about Akaroa itself. According to Wikipedia, the town, which is situated in a former volcanic crater, has about 600 inhabitants. The population can rise to 7000 in summer (due to the influx of tourists)... That says it all. Akaroa is an absolute tourist town. Occasionally (probably every week, sometimes even daily), cruise ships dock in the harbor and unload loads of tourists who plunder everything that Akaroa has to offer in terms of souvenirs and sunscreen. The ships and the number of passengers are even marked on our duty rosters, because on a 'cruise ship day' things get noticeably busier and the staff is adjusted accordingly. Also, everything here is very... French. I was explained why, but I forgot again. Anyway, tourists love it.

But as rosy as I have described it here, it's not that great (except for the Indian rose drink, of course). The part about the caramel sauce is true (and everything else, by the way), but that also comes at a price. Because we work really hard. When Cass has her day off, Richi sometimes works 13 hours a day, with little or no breaks. We also feel for the first time what it means to be subject to the tough work routine and to 'work away' one's life and have little time for oneself or the family (at the moment, we rarely see each other). This is a bit scary for the future. It is also sometimes difficult for us to switch off, which may also be due to the fact that we are surrounded 24/7 by the same people (our colleagues) and therefore often talk about work... Nevertheless, somehow I enjoy the work (as a waitress) and in the end, I had to mention a few negative things so as not to make you TOO jealous (warm caramel sauce... I just had to mention it again).

And finally, a big SORRY for not keeping in touch for so long, which A is because I/we are just incredibly busy at the moment and after work, we just feel the need to sleep or be entertained by series, that I B was busy with secret secrets (more importantly, are there also non-secret secrets?) for Richi's birthday, and that C not much is happening at the moment... except work. Anyway, I hope you can forgive us once again...

See you soon (in three weeks or so ;) ),

Maggi & Richi, Friday 10th February, Akaroa 6:35 p.m.

P.S.: But what's the deal with the singing washing machine? Well, first of all, I would like to mention that the singing washing machine is not a plot-relevant detail of my report, but rather one of those nice and completely pointless additions that life has in store to make some people smile. Let me tell you about the singing washing machine. So I was standing unsuspectingly under the shower when the washing machine (which is also located in the bathroom) suddenly started playing the trout theme from Schubert's 'Trout Quintet' to announce that it had finished washing the laundry. When I told Donna about it, she replied with a surprised feigned tone: 'Don't washing machines sing in Germany? That's boring...'.