Motueka

Motueka…man this place haunts my dreams. Care and I came to this hamlet in apple picking country with high hopes of landing a job in the fields and getting our hands dirty with a real “Kiwi experience” underneath the summer sun. Little did we know that the worst thing that could happen to us was getting our wish. Our job search started with online applications and endless phone calls to uninterested orchards who were “full for the season” even though Motueka's harvest hadn't even started. We persevered and enlisted the help of the local picking job agency for over a week to no avail. Freedom camping near the ocean fed salt baths on the edge of town lost its appeal, and we wore out our welcome with the librarians/guardians of the only free WiFi in town. After some more time bashing our brians against message boards and job listings we pulled out our secret weapon – charm. Oh that’s right, we got mad charm. We’d visited the same lady - Anne - for over a week in the picking job placement office, and she'd come to recognize us amidst the sea of eager backpackers. We were bright eyed, polite, deferential, and now – desperate. We flattered her and thanked her and did everything to put this lovely middle-aged lady in our pocket. After a few eyelashes were batted and a sighing, “thank you so much for trying” was given, we left her office ready to give up and head south. No more than an hour later our phone rang. Who was it? Anne offering us work with Birdhurst Orchard the following morning. Shazaam - mad charm. Little did we know our Motueka fairytale was about to become a nightmare. But more on that next time…