the rotten apple adventure

7/28/2019 The Rotten Apple Adventure

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The Rotten Apple Interactive Adventure Book

By Travis Haan

Contact:

The Rotten Apple Backpacker Hostel

114 Heretaunga St. East

Hawkes Bay, Hastings 4122 New Zealand

+64 (06) 878-4363

www.rottenapple.co.nz



How this book works

At the end of every page or two you’ll be given a choice that will determine what happens next in thestory. To progress through the story click the link that corresponds with your choice. The story won’t

make any sense if you just keep scrolling down without clicking the links. Do you understand these

instructions?

Yes, you understand.

No, you do not understand.



You wake up one day and realize you really, really want to live in another country for at

least one year in your life, but you don’t have enough money to take a year off work much less gosightseeing in a foreign country. This really bums you out for a while, but you decide there has to be a

way to live in another country for a while. So you do a few Google searches and find out that if you’re

under 30 years old you can get a working holiday visa to New Zealand, and when you arrive in country

you can work on fruit farms to earn money, which you can then use to travel around the North and

South islands. Anytime you start running out of money you can just go to the nearest fruit farm and work

for another month or two. And best part is that it’s not hard to find work, because there are working

backpacker hostels in New Zealand that find seasonal fruit work for their guests. So as long as you canget to one of those hostels you can survive in New Zealand.

You get to thinking about it, and you decide this adventure is too feasible not to take. So you go to the

New Zealand immigration website and see if you’re eligible to work. You pass the test. So you create an

account on the New Zealand immigration site and follow the instructions. You get a passport, pay a few

fees, get a medical checkup, and a few months later you get your working holiday visa in the mail. While

you’re waiting for that to get approved you go on a shopping spree to all the camping and traveling

stores around town. You try out all the latest backpacks, meal kits and clothing designed for campers.

Unfortunately you can’t afford it because you paid $1400 for your plane ticket to New Zealand. Luckily

someone you know lets you borrow their old backpack and a few bobs and bits.

The day comes when your plane is leaving. You kiss your friends and family goodbye and get dropped off

at the airport. You hand over all your earthly belongings at the baggage check and then hand over your

dignity at the security screening checkpoint. You make a quick run to the toilet and find your boarding

gate with about six minutes to spare.

You spend the next bagillion hours flying through the air in a metal tube at close to the speed of sound.

You watch a couple of predictable action movies and a sappy romance, eat a few surprisingly good

precooked meals and fail to find a comfortable position to sit in for half a day.

https://visaoptions.immigration.govt.nz/Home/CommonPersonal.aspx



http://www.immigration.govt.nz/migrant/stream/work/workingholiday/


http://www.usingenglish.com/reference/idioms/bits+and+bobs.html








Eventually the pilot puts the seatbelt sign on and announces to prepare for landing. The plane lands

smoothly and taxis to its gate. As soon as the doors open everyone around you stampedes off the plane

like it was on fire. Once the trampling herd is gone you unbuckle your seatbelt and stroll off the plane.

As you’re exiting your plane you hear a group of girls in front of you speaking in a Kiwi accent. So you

stop them and ask how to get to The Rotten Apple Backpacker Hostel in Hastings. They tell you that you

can take The Naked Bus or the Intercity Bus for pretty cheap. Your other option is to fly to Napier, which

is right next to Hastings, and then take a short bus trip from the airport to Hastings.

Would you rather take the bus or fly?

Take the bus to Hastings.

Fly to Napier.

http://www.rottenapple.co.nz/



http://nakedbus.com/nz/bus/



http://www.intercity.co.nz/








You chose to take the bus to Hastings.

You take an airport shuttle to the SKYCITY bust station and board a bus headed to Hastings. The triptakes seven hours, but you hardly notice the time pass because your nose is glued to the window. You

can’t believe how much the countryside really does look like the Shire from Lord of the Rings. You also

come to fully understand why there are so many sheep shagging jokes about New Zealand. You pass

countless hills, mountains and valleys covered in sheep.

Eventually you arrive in Hastings and get off the bus. Directly across from the bus stop is a Subway and a

couple of ethnic takeaway restaurants. So you walk over to order some food and ask the cashier where

the Rotten Apple is. They tell you it’s right around the corner just opposite the I-site and the town centre.

You thank them, stuff your food in your hungry face and head around the corner to the Rotten Apple.

You find the sign hanging from the veranda and head inside. You walk up a flight of stairs and go to the

reception desk. The walls of the reception area are covered in postcards from all over the world. Behind

the counter stands a Kiwi guy wearing surfer shorts, leather wrist bands and hot pink retro sunglasses.

He says, “Welcome to the Rotten Apple. I’m Jason. You here looking for work?”

You reply, “For starters.”

Jason says, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Would you rather work in the apple orchards or the vineyards?”

Work in the apple orchards.

Work in the Vineyards.

http://www.zoomin.co.nz/nz/auckland/auckland+central/hobson+street/102/-skycity+coachlines/


http://www.hawkesbaynz.com/index.php/visitor-info/i-site-and-info-centres/hastings-i-site-visitor-centre







You chose to fly to Napier.

You saved a lot of money before coming to New Zealand, and you don’t want to sit in a bus for anotherseven hours. So you buy a plane ticket from Auckland to Napier. After a quick flight you land in Napier,

the self-proclaimed art deco capital of the world. As you’re waiting at the carousel to pick up your

baggage you see a couple of old ladies dressed like it’s 1933 speaking in a Kiwi accent. You ask them why

Napier calls itself the art deco capital of the world and what the heck is art deco anyway?

They explain that an earthquake levelled the city in 1931. Since the whole city had to be rebuilt, and art

deco architecture was all the rage back then, they built the whole city in that style. Then the old ladies

proceed to tell you their life stories and the life stories of everyone they know. Luckily the bus arrives

and you use it as an excuse to run away.

Finally you arrive in Hastings and get off the bus. You walk around the corner and easily find the Rotten

Apple Backpacker Hostel. You go in and walk up a flight of stairs to the reception desk. The walls of the

reception area are covered in postcards from all over the world. Behind the counter is a Kiwi guy leaned

back in an office chair wearing pyjamas, a bath robe and bright purple retro sunglasses. On his bathrobe

is a name tag that says, “Jason.” You say to Jason, “Excuse me?” He doesn’t respond. You say, “Excuseme.” A little louder, and he jerks his head up.

He says, “What do you want from me?”

You reply, “I need a job?

Jason thinks about that for a few moments and says, “…in a vineyard or an orchard?”

Work in the apple orchards.

Work in the Vineyards.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Napier_NZ#1931_earthquake






You chose to work in the orchards.

You tell Jason you’re not a pussy and pick the orchard work. He nods at you sagely and says he’ll call theorchard to find out when you start work. In the meantime you can get settled into the hostel.

Before you can do that though you need to pick a room you want to live in for the next couple of months.

Jason asks if you have a BBH card, and you say yes. Jason points to the price list on the wall and asks

which room you want.

Stay in a double room for $145 per week.

Stay in a twin room for $110 per week.

Stay in a four share for $95 per week

Stay in the ten share for $95 per week

http://www.bbh.co.nz/






You chose to pick Grapes.

You explain to Jason that you you’ve always thought vineyards were one of the most romantic places atwork. Since you were a child you dreamt of running through the green, leafy rows laughing and skipping.

Jason rolls his eyes at you behind his sunglasses and says he’ll call the vineyard to find out when you

start work. In the meantime you can get settled into the hostel, but first you need to pick a room you

want to live in for the next couple of months.

He asks if you have a BBH card, and you say you have no idea what that means. He says it’s a card you

can buy for $45 that gets you a discount in a lot of New Zealand hostels. You figure if it’ll save youmoney in the long run you may as well get one. So you buy the card. Then Jason points to the BBH price

list on the wall and says, “So what kind of room do you want?

Stay in a double room for $145 per week.

Stay in a twin room for $110 per week

Stay in a four share for $95 per week

Stay in the ten share for $95 per week







You chose to stay in a double room.

Privacy is important enough to you to pay a little extra. So you choose a double room and pay Jason. Hegives you a quick tour of the hostel and takes you to your room.

Instead of room numbers each room in the hostel is named after a famous traveller. You drop off your

bags and spend a few minutes loitering in the hallway reading the little signs that explain what each of

the explorers the rooms were named after did.

You notice there’s a lot of people drinking and laughing on the back porch. So you decide to join the

party. You go outside and introduce yourself and ask a lot of questions about work and Hastings.

After a few minutes Jason pokes his head out the door and tells you that he just got off the phone with

the contractor you’ll be working for. You’ll leave at 7am, and you’ll be riding with a German couple who

are also staying at the Rotten Apple and own their own car.

You ask what kind of work you’ll be doing, and he tells you that you’ll be doing apple thinning, which

means you pick off the small, excess apples from trees to make sure the apples that are left have enough

nutrients and room to grow. You’ll be getting paid by contract, which means you get paid for every tree

you thin the excess apples off of. That means the faster you work the more money you can make.

While you’re thinking about all the money you can make Jason tells you that you can choose to thin

small trees for $1.50 each or big trees for $8 each. Which kind of trees would you like to thin?

Thin small trees for $1.50 per tree.

Thin big trees for $8 dollars per tree.



You chose to stay in a twin room.

You pay for a week and head over to your room. Both beds are empty, which means three things. Youdon’t have a roommate yet. You can take the bottom bunk, and you can masturbate...at least until you

get a roommate.

Half an hour later Jason knocks on your door and waits impatiently for your to open it. When you finally

do he tells you that he just got off the phone with the contractor you’ll be working for. You’ll leave at

7am, and you’ll be riding with a French surfer who owns a campervan.

You ask what kind of work you’ll be doing, and he tells you that you’ll be doing apple thinning, whichmeans you pick off the small, excess apples from trees to make sure the remaining apples have enough

nutrients and room to grow. You’ll be getting paid by contract, which means you get paid for every tree

you thin the excess apples off of. So the faster you work the more money yo u can make, but if you’re

really slow you won’t make any money.

You intend to work your hardest and make piles and piles of cash. While you’re thinking about all the

wanton luxuries you’re going to spend your upcoming fortune on Jason tells you that you can choose tothin small trees for $1.50 each or big trees for $8 each. Which kind of trees would you like to thin?





You choose to stay in a 4 share.

You figure you’d like a little bit of community but not too much. So you pick the four share. You pay your

rent and buy a gigabyte of wifi. Then Jason shows you to your room. You open the door to your room

and look in. Every wall has backpacks and clothes oozing out of them. The top bunk on the bed to your

right seems has the blanket rolled up neatly at the foot of the bed indicating the bed is available. On the

floor next to the ladder is a green canvas travel bag filled w ith several kilos of trail mix. You’re not sure

what to think of that.

You throw your stuff on your bed and cross the hallway to the bathroom for a shit, shower and shave.

Half an hour later you walk back down the hall towards the living room. As you pass the reception desk

Jason shouts that he’s just got off the phone with the contractor you’ll be working for. You’ll leave at

7am. A big Maori guy with a lot of tattoos will pick you up in a white van, and he doesn’t like it when

you’re late.

You ask what kind of work you’ll be doing, and Jason tells you that you’ll be doing apple thinning, which

means you pick off the small, excess apples from trees to make sure the remaining apples get all the

sugar and have enough room to grow. You’ll be getting paid by contract, which means you get paid forevery tree you thin the excess apples off of. That means the faster you work the more money you can

make. You can choose to thin small trees for $1.50 each or big trees for $8 each. Which kind of trees

would you like to thin?





You chose to stay in the 10 share.

You fail to notice that the four share and the ten share are the same price. Since you don’t have a lot of

money you pick the ten share mistakenly assuming it’s cheaper than the four share. Jason points his

finger out the reception window at the door to your right. “That’s your room. Pick any free bed you want.

You can put your stuff in one of the empty boxes under the bed. Lights out at ten thirty.”

You go pick a bed and set your backpack down next to it. Your legs are aching from sitting for like the

past day and a half. So you decide to get out and stretch them. You head downstairs and exit out the

front door. You look to your right and see the town centre. There’s a huge circular fountain with a weird,

giant metal ball suspended in the air above it. To the left of that are three or four sheep. You can’t

believe this town is so hick there are sheep loitering in the town centre. But then you realize the sheep

are actually made out of concrete. You’re a little bummed that there aren’t actually sheep just

wandering around the town centre. But still, even concrete sheep is pretty provincial. Anyway, you

wander down the main street and check out all the second hand shops.

You get back to the hostel sweaty and nasty. Jason greets you and informs you that you’ll leave for work

at 7am, and you’ll be riding with a car-full of South Americans. You ask what kind of work you’ll be doing,and he says, “Apple thinning.” You ask what that is and he says, “Oh, you just pick the excess apples off

trees and throw them on the ground. They’ll explain it all when you get there. Also, you can pick which

kind of orchard you want to work on. One has small trees, and you get paid for $1.50 per tree. The other

has big trees, and you get paid $8 each for those. Which one do you want?”





You chose to stay in a double room.

You don’t want to have to share a room with a bunch of strangers. So you get the double room. You pay

your rent and buy a pack of cigarettes for $17. After you curse New Zealand for its ludicrously expensive

tobacco prices Jason gives you a quick tour of the hostel and takes you to your room, which is the last

room on the left at the end of the hallway. You put your backpack in the closet and hop on the bed to

see how firm it is. It’s about what you expected. You look out the window and all you see are clothes

hanging from clothes lines. You open the window and realize you can hop right out onto the roof of the

Indian restaurant downstairs. So you crawl out your window and navigate your way through a maze of

clothes lines until you find a door. You walk through it and find yourself in the living room.

Jason waves you over to the reception area and says there are a few jobs available. You can do wire

lifting, which means you spend all day raising the wires that the grape vines grow on to stretch out the

vines vertically or you can do bud rubbing, which doesn’t involve buds or rubbing. What it does involve is

you bending over all day and breaking off little branches and vines that grow out of the base of grape

plants.

You ask which one is worse, and Jason replies, “Bud rubbing. With that, yeah, your back’s gonna hurt.Wire lifting is almost fun. Either way, take plenty of water, and wear sunscreen and a hat. There’s no

shade in the middle of a vineyard. So, yeah. Do you want to do wire lifting or bud rubbing?”

Do wire lifting.

Do bud rubbing.



You chose to stay in a twin room.

You’re too cheap to pay for a double room, but you’re too pampered to stay in the ten share. So you

compromise and Tell Jason you want the twin room. You notice that rent is cheaper if you pay by the

month, and you just arrived with all your savings. So you can afford to pay a month to get that extra

discount. You pay for a month, and as Jason hands you your change he says, “I don’t know why

everybody doesn’t do that.”

You reply, “Maybe they don’t know how long they’re gonna stay?”

Jason says, “Whatever.”

After a quick tour of the hostel Jason shows you to your room and hands you your key. You open the

door, and there’s a Spaniard stretched out on the bottom bunk wearing nothing but bright blue man

whore panties. You put your backpack against the back wall opposite the other backpack that’s already

there. You fuss with putting the rest of your travel gear into the box under the bed. The whole time the

Spaniard is asking you questions and you’re talking to each other and it’s really awkward because …you

know…the man whore panties.

Just then Jason knocks on the door and walks in and joins the conversation. You’re not sure if that makes

it more or less awkward. Jason says that you can choose to do one of two jobs tomorrow. You can either

do wire lifting, where you unhook wires from poles and then rehook them at a higher spot on the

pole…or you can do bud rubbing, which is just breaking off twigs from the base of grape plants. You ask

which pays more, and he says it all depends on the details of the contract, and in this particular case the

bud rubbing pays more, but bud rubbing can be harder than wire lifting. Which job do you want?

Do wire lifting.

Do bud rubbing.



You chose to stay in a 4 share.

You ask which room has the coolest people in it, and after thinking about it for a bit Jason says, “The four

share.” You exchange nods, and then he says, “Now give me my money.” You pay the rent and head to

your room. You squeeze past a young couple making out in the middle of the hall and find the door

labelled “Fernandez.” Your key unlocks it, and you go in. Both the beds on the bunk to your left have the

blankets rolled up towards the foot of the bed. Both the beds on the bunk to your right are covered in

wrinkled clothes.

You stow your things away under the bunk to your left and head back out to the living room. As you

enter the room a crazy eyed Scotsman wearing a football jersey grabs you by the shoulder. The man is

visibly drunk, and you can smell whiskey on his breath….and coming out of his pores. He talks excitedly

for a long time, but you can’t understand a word he says. Every once and a while you smile and nod your

head and say, “Yep.” After about the fifth “yep” the Scotsman slaps you on the back and says, “That’s

the spirit mate.” Then he strides over to the pool table and starts racking the balls. It turns out you

agreed to play a game of pool, which you play and lose. Afterwards the Scotsman starts leaning on you

and shouting in your ear again until Jason waves you over to the reception desk. He says he’s got work

for you tomorrow.

You can either do wire lifting, which involves unhooking wires from poles and then rehooking them at a

higher spot on the pole…or you can do bud rubbing, which is just breaking off twigs from the base of

grape plants. You ask which work crew has the most attractive people. Jason thinks about it for a minute

and says, “Bud rubbing.”

Do wire lifting.

Do bud rubbing.



You chose to stay in the 10 share.

You want the real hostel experience. So you choose the ten share, and when you walk into your room

you’re not disappointed. There are half naked people scattered throughout the beds sleeping in the

middle of the afternoon. There are fishing poles and surfboards leaned against the walls, which are

covered in classic rock posters, and none of the sheets match. You pump your fist and say to yourself,

“Yes.”

You take the last free bed, which is on the top bunk in the middle of the room. A well-tanned hippie with

colourful dreadlocks is laying in the bottom bunk underneath your bed playing an 8-bit video game on

his cheap cell phone. He introduces himself, and his accent sounds slightly Russian but not really. You

ask him if he’s working, and he tells you he’s doing wire lifting. You have no idea what he’s talking about.

So you ask him to explain. He says, “Imagine barbed wire fence with no barbs. You unhook wires where

attached to fence post, lift them up to higher place and reattach them.”

You ask, “Why you would ever need to do that?”

He says, “This stretches the grape vine up. This way they don’t hang on ground and get run over by

tractor. Also, the grapes, they get light, and this is important to become ripe.”

Jason interrupts your conversation and asks you if you’d rather do wire lifting or bud rubbing. You ask

which one pays better, and Jason says they pay the same.

You forget to ask Jason what bud rubbing is before you hear the words come out of your mouth telling

Jason which job you want to do. What do you tell him you want to do?

Do wire lifting.

Do bud rubbing.



You chose to thin big trees.

You can either get paid $1.50 per tree or $8 per tree. The choice is obvious. You greedily blurt out, “Eight

dollars! I want the $8 trees!”

Jason says, “Very popular choice. Tomorrow you’ll find out if it was a good one. In the meantime, we’re

having a killer pool tournament tonight. Do you want to sign up?”

You ask, “What’s killer pool?”

Jason says, “You get a bunch of people to play pool. Each person gets one shot, and you can hit any ball

on the table. You start with three lives, and every time you miss a shot you lose a life, but if you get the

black ball in you win a life. When you lose all three lives you’re out of the game, but you get a shot of

tequila.”

You ask, “What does the winner get?”

Jason answers, “Two shots of tequila.”

You say, “Sure, sign me up. “

After an intense night of killer pool and bonding with the other backpackers you wake up early to get

ready for your first day work. You meet with the people you’re supposed to ride with on the back porch

and drive out to the orchard following directions Jason printed out for you. During the ride an

Argentinian girl sitting next to you keeps talking about how much money you can make if you push

yourself as hard as hard as possible, but a little voice in your head warns you not to. What will you do?

Work fast.

Pace yourself.



You chose to thin small trees.

You’re fully capable of doing hard work, but let’s face it. You’re straight up lazy. No part of you wants to

thin gigantic $8 trees. So you say you want the small trees.

Jason says, “Alright, I’ll sign you up for the crew working on the young orchard. By the way, tonight

we’re having a poker tournament. Do you want me to sign you up for that too?”

Poker’s fun, and it’s a good way to meet people. So you agree. The game starts at 8pm with 14 people,

and it ends up lasting until 2am. One by one the other players get eliminated and head off to bed until

the only two players left are you and a tall Belgian with slicked back hair. You realize it’s more importantto get to sleep than to win the game so you keep betting all your chips in a desperate attempt to lose,

but miraculously you keep winning until you’ve taken all of the Belgian’s chips.

You don’t have much time to gloat over your victory because you practically sleepwalk from the poker

table in the living room to your bedroom. The next morning you sleep through your alarm clock, but one

of the other backpackers who will be riding with you to work wakes you up leaving you enough time to

rush through your morning routine.

At 7am you pile into your work vehicle with backpackers from every corner of the world. A barrel

chested Brazilian next to you brags and boasts the whole way to the orchard about how much money he

can make and how fast he can work. His enthusiasm rubs off on you, and by the time you arrive at the

orchard you’re seriously pumped up.

You meet the farmer, who explains how the job is done and warns you not to push yourself too hard but

not to slack off either. How fast do you want to work?

Work fast.

Pace Youreself.



You chose to do wire lifting.

You’ve done work that involves bending over all day, and you know you could do it if you had to, but if

you have a choice you’d rather not. So you pick wire lifting even though you still don’t fully understand

what it involves.

Jason informs you that there’s going to be a silly hat party and a punch bowl tonight. He encourages you

to join, but you didn’t come all the way to New Zealand to meet new people. You came all this way to sit

in your room and play on your Ipad and Skype your friends and family back home. So you spend the

evening lying in bed listening to the muffled sounds of laughing and shouting coming from the living

room.

You’re well rested for your first day of work. So you wake up early and take your time getting ready. You

meet the people you’re riding to work with in the back parking lot and pile into a stranger’s vehicle.

After a short but beautiful drive out of Hastings you arrive at the vineyard.

A big, jolly farmer pulls up behind you in an expensive, shiny work truck that looks like it’s never done

any work. The farmer gets out and explains what you’re doing. Each row of grape vines has a tall metal

pole in between every fourth grape vine. There are four wires that run the entire length of the row and

are held in place on the posts by sliding into little notches on the pole. The small, young grape vines are

wrapped around the bottom two wires. Your job is to lift the second and third wires to a higher place on

the pole and tuck the vines up into the wall of wires so they don’t fall down on the ground.

The contractor says you can either work for minimum wage and get paid hourly or you can get paid by

the number of grape plants you lift the wires on. How would you like to get paid?

Work for contract pay.

Work for hourly pay.



You chose to do bud rubbing.

Wire lifting sounds confusing, but breaking twigs off plants sounds simple enough. So you choose bud

rubbing. Jason says, “Bud rubbing can be pretty tough when there are a lot of big twigs, but if there’s not

that many it’s pretty easy. A lot of the time you can just kick the twigs off with your feet without bending

down. But you’ll see how it goes tomorrow.”

You ask, “So what’s there to do in Hastings tonight ?”

Jason says, “There’s never much going on in Hastings. So we have to make our own fun. In a couple of

minutes we’re going to play car park cricket. You wanna join? It doesn’t matter if you don’t knowanything about cricket. The way we play you just hit the ball with the bat and run and touch the wall and

run back to where you started. You keep doing that until the pitcher either hits the trash can behind you

or someone catches a ball you hit.”

You agree to the cricket game and spend the afternoon making a fool of yourself in the car park, but you

have an awesome, sweaty time doing it. After taking a shower you lay down in your bed for quick nap

but end up sleeping the rest of the night. You wake up rested and find the people you’re riding to work

with in the back car park.

One the way to work you ask the Argentinian girl in the seat next to you how much you get paid. She

says you can choose to get paid by contract, which means you get paid per plant or you can get paid

hourly. You can make more money on contract, but you’re not stressed out on hourly. You ask how

everyone else wants to get paid, and they all say, “contract” without hesitating. How do you want to get

paid?

Work for contract pay.

Work for hourly pay.



You chose to thin big trees at a fast pace.

A couple more cars pull into the orchard, and a motley crew of international backpackers pile out. Close

by are a bunch of tall aluminium ladders. You find the lightest one and carry it over to the first row of

apple trees. The trees are so big the ladder doesn’t reach the top of them.

You study the row of trees stretching out in front of you. The trunks are massive, and branches big

enough to stand on just out over the rows. You wedge the ladder as close to the trunk as possible and

scamper up it like a possum. You start pulling little apples off as fast as you can being careful to leave six

inches between each apple.

The farmer comes by to see how you’re doing and yells at you for dropping apples onto the apples on

the branches below. He tells you it’s going to bruise the apples, and they won’t be able to sell them after

they’re harvested. You kick yourself for making a bad first impression and try to make up for it by

working faster and more carefully.

You work as fast as you can, but you have to keep moving the ladder around the trees to reach the ends

of the long branches. You notice all the girls working in the rows next to you are going faster than you.

So you work faster to catch up with them, but the faster you work the more you freak out.

By the end of the day you’re physically, mentally and emotionally drained. Plus, you barely earned any

money, because despite all your hard work, you hardly thinned any trees. You don’t know how you’re

going to make it another day apple thinning, but nobody else is crying or quitting. So you suck it up and

go back the next day and the next and the next.

The first week is torture, but by the end of it you learn how to pace yourself and you’re thinning threetimes as many trees as you did your first day. By the end of the second week your body still hurts, but

you’ve gotten into the groove of things. You don’t think about your muscles or how much work you have

left to do. You just focus on the apples in front of you and try to forget about time.



Over the next few weeks you replace a few kilos of body fat with muscle, and you replace the dust in

your wallet with New Zealand dollars. You spend your breaks at work chatting with people from all over

the world and you find out about a lot of international bands you’ve never heard of. You swap musicwith a few guys and give them a tour of your artistic tastes.

One day you find out there’s going to be a long weekend because of Easter. You bring up the point that

New Zealand is a secular country…so why is Easter a national holiday in a country that almost

unanimously agrees that Christianity is mythology? None of the other back packers are able to answer

your question.

Now you’ve made an awkward silence in the conversation by talking about religion. To move things onyou quickly turn the topic of conversation to how everyone is going to spend their Easter break. It turns

out it’s also a Dutch girl’s birthday, and she wants everyone to go on one big trip together. She’s decided

she either wants to go to Taupo or to a secluded beach. She graciously lets the crowd vote on which one

of her two top choices everyone is going to do. The vote comes down to a tie, and you’re the tie breaker.

What do you want to do?

Go to Taupo.

Go to the secluded beach.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taupo






You chose to thin big trees at a moderate pace.

A thought occurs to you as you’re standing underneath the first tree on your row looking up at the

massive branches twisting above and around you. This is absolutely insane. No matter where you put the

ladder against a tree you can only pick about a quarter of the apples on that tree. So you’re going to

have to keep moving this gigantic aluminium ladder all over the place and climbing up and down. It’s

going to be a callisthenic marathon.

Wisely you set a steady pace for yourself and focus more on studying and improving your technique than

you do about pushing yourself to move your body faster. Still, you work your butt off, and by the end of

the day you’re tired, achy and sweaty. The day felt like it lasted an eternity, and you barely got any treesdone. You walk back to your car with your empty water bottles looking glum. As you pass your

supervisor he says, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, bro. You did way better than most people their first

day. Watch, in a week you’ll be doing three times what you done today.”

You come back the next day and keep working on your technique and your pace. You play moderately

paced music on your MP3 player, and try not to think discouraging thoughts. In no time at all you’re

making the kind of money you expected to make. You spend more time in the evening sleeping and lesstime hanging out than you would have liked, but you figure the more money you make the more free

time you can afford later.

You wake up one morning and shuffle into the living room on the way to the kitchen for your morning

coffee. On the wall of the living room is a huge paper banner announcing that the hostel is going to have

a huge Christmas bash blowout, and the guests get to decide whether it’s going to be in Taupo or at a

secluded beach. There’s a marker next to the sign. Which choice are you going to vote on?

Go to Taupo.

Go to the secluded beach.







You chose to thin small trees at a fast pace.

Your trees may be small, but they’re still big enough that you need a tall, aluminum ladder to reach the

top of them. Your supervisor has left a dozen or so out where the cars are parked. You grab a ladder and

pick the next row that hasn’t already been claimed by someone else. You get on with your job picking off

bruised, deformed and excess bunches of apples from the tree. You don’t have to reach too far to get all

the apples, and before long you find your pace and realize you’re making good time. You start thinking

about all the money you can make and your greed begins to undermine your laziness.

Then you realize that you don’t have to work harder to go faster. You just have to cut corners. So y ou

start missing apples or knowingly skipping them just because you didn’t want to spend an extra secondor two to do the job right. You finish your entire row in half the time as anyone else. You carry your

ladder all the way back down your row to where you started and tell your supervisor you need another

row.

The supervisor takes one look at your row and tells you to go back and finish the job you started and to

do it right this time and if you muck around like that again you’re fired. So you sheepishly go back to

your row and do a proper job. Everyone else finishes their row before you, and you go back to the hosteltired and flustered. Luckily, you started work the day before Labor Day. So you’ve got a long weekend to

rest and rethink your work strategies and personal values.

On the way back to the hostel you’re talking with the other backpackers about what’s going on this

weekend. The driver says she wants to see the sights around Hastings, and she thinks the work crew

should stick together. Everybody else agrees. They’re just not sure exactly what they want to do. So they

let you decide. Should you all go to Te Mata Peak or the Maraetotara waterfalls?

Go to Te Mata Peak.

Go to the Maraetotara waterfalls.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:View_from_te_mata_peak.jpg



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Maraetotara_Falls,_Hawkes_Bay,_New_Zealand.jpg







You chose to thin small trees at a moderate pace.

Your supervisor tells everyone to get to work. So you go grab a ladder and drag it over to the first empty

row. You put your ear phones on and stand there and study the trees for a few minutes. You’re not sure

what you expected an apple tree to look like, but this isn’t exactly it. The branches twist and turn at

nonsensical angles. Some hang down like octopus tentacles and some look like they have three elbows.

It’s going to take a certain amount of effort to navigate around them.

You don’t want to do more work than you have to so you put a good deal of thought into deducing how

to position your ladder around the trees in the way that allows you to pick the most amount of apples

with the least amount of trips up/down the ladder.

You figure out a system and go with it. You don’t do it slowly, but when your body starts to hurt you

slow down. In time you get lost in thought listening to your music. There’s no sound out there in the

orchard, and there’s nothing to look at but apples, leaves, branches, grass and sky. Time loses its

meaning and your find yourself analysing everything that has ever happened to you. You’ve almost come

up with a new unifying theory of life when you hear a car horn honking. You take off your ear phones

and hear the girls from your car shouting at you that it’s time to go home. You trot back down your rowoccasionally slipping on golf ball sized apples.

You get in the car, and everyone is already talking about what they’re going to do with their day off. You

ask, “What day off?” and they explain that tomorrow is Moa Day. It’s a national day of mourning for the

extinct Moa, a giant flightless bird that once lived in New Zealand. Since you’re so cool the girls invite

you to go exploring Hawkes Bay with them, and to help entice you to come they let you pick where

they’re going. Your choices are Te Mata Peak and the Maraetotara waterfalls.

Go to Te Mata Peak.

Go to the Maraetotara waterfalls.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Te_Mata_Peak










You chose to wire lift for contract pay.

You don’t know how much minimum wage is in New Zealand, but you want to get p aid more than the

minimum. So when you get to the vineyard and talk to your supervisor you tell him you want to work on

contract. The supervisor hands you a contract and tells you to fill it out and bring it back with you

tomorrow. He says to also bring a copy of your work visa and passport.

The supervisor gives everybody a demonstration on how to wire lift properly. He explains that the

fastest way to do it is to work in teams of three. The first person walks down a row unhooking the wires

on either side of him. One person stays where he started, and the other person stands halfway between

them. Then they all grab the same wire and lift it up to the appropriate height. Then they all moveforward, and as the last two people move forward they tuck up any straggling vines into the wire.

You choose to be the team member in the back so you can watch the two in front of you to learn from

them. Your first row is awkward and slow, but you get the hang of it halfway through your second row.

Your team gets into a rhythm, and by lunch time you don’t even need to talk to work together.

You find wire lifting bizarrely fun. It’s a physical sport that requires skill and teamwork. Plus, you’re

playing for prize money. The faster and more efficiently you work the more money you can make.

You’re thinking about these thoughts when you suddenly hear someone shouting in the distance,

“Smoko!” Another voice somewhere else in the orchard echos, “Smoko!” Then you hear a chorus of girls

shouting, “Smoookoooooo!”

You bend over below the wall of green leaves around you. In either direction you see the trunks of grape

vines and legs walking back in the direction of where their cars are parked. You stand back up and headto the cars for break.

When you get to the end of the row people are already lounging in their cars with the windows and

doors fully open. A small crowd of Asians are refilling their drink bottles and eating snacks they’ve



brought packed in plastic Tupperware. There’s a van full of South Americans, but they look like they’re

doing their own thing. You look around at everyone else and finally decide to go stand with the people

who look like they got in the most trouble in high school. You walk up to their circle and ask, “So what’sgoing on this weekend?”

A shirtless, tattooed Czech says, “Same thing. Every Saturday. Rotten Apple has party. You pay $12. They

buy as much alcohol as can. If you paid, you drink until it is gone. They have a…how do you say, theme?

But this just excuse to drink.”

You scratch your head and ask, “So what’s the theme this weekend?”

The Czech says, “Hey. Do you want beer or booze? If you want beer then what do you think? We get a

keg. If you want drink liquor then we have cocktail party. What do you want my friend? We let you

decide because you are new.”

Have a keg party.

Have a cocktail party.



You chose to wire lift for hourly pay.

You watch your supervisor do a demonstration of how to wire lift, but you still don’t understand it.

You’re already feeling anxious about this job, and you don’t want to add the pressure of racing against

time. So you choose to work for hourly pay. The supervisor says, “Right. Now you get a fifteen minute

break before lunch, a thirty minute break for lunch and a fifteen minute break in the middle of the

afternoon. I don’t want to see you sittin’ around. Now get to work.”

You turn around and see a couple of Czechs run into the same row and pulling long stretches of wire off

the posts and then lifting the same wire together. Everyone else wanders off into a row of their own and

starts unhooking the wires, lifting them and tucking back the vines alone. You copy the crowd and workon your own. It’s not hard work, but the sun is relentless. You’re glad you wore sunscreen, and you make

a mental note to buy a wide brimmed hat the next chance you get.

You yank, lift, clip, tuck, move, check, yank, lift, clip, tuck, move, check, yank over and over and over. You

feel like you’ve been lifting and tucking for centuries, like it’s the only thing you’ve ever done. There’s

nothing else in your life except walking this endless line of leaves and rethreading its wires. You take

your gloves off and dig your cell phone out of your back pocket. Yo u check the time. You’ve been doingthis for an hour and a half. You still have another hour to go before your first fifteen minute break. Then

you have another seven hours after that.

The minutes stretch into eons. You age a thousand years and get the thousand yard stare in your eyes.

You zone out completely until you cease to be a rational, sentient being. You become an automatic wire

lifter. Your body moves on, performing its endless task while its mind is lost, drifting in the unfathomable

emptiness of time and space.

You’re snapped back to your senses by an athletic-looking German standing on the other side of the

green wall in front of you. For the third time he says, “It’s break time.”



You thank a deity and run off to where all the cars are parked. By the time you get there people are

already leaning on their cars and sitting on the ground anywhere there’s shade. You go get your

backpack out of the vehicle you came in and pull some granola bars out. As you’re standing theremunching on your snack you see some of the other Germans from the Rotten Apple who came in a

different car. Just making idle conversation more than anything you ask them, “So what’s going on this

weekend?”

An outspoken, authoritative German girl says, “We drink in the hostel. You want to drink? You pay

twelve dollars. We buy alcohol. Then we drink until it is gone.”

You say, “So…what are we drinking?”

She says, “I think they get a keg. But I don’t think so many people want beer. What do you want to do?

Tell me what you want and I will tell them to get it. And believe me, they will listen. What do you want to

do?

Have a keg party.

Have a cocktail party.



You chose to do bud rubbing for contract pay.

You drive to the parking lot of a microbrewery and meet up with three other car/van loads of

backpackers. You all stand around for a few minutes until your supervisor drives up in a dirty old truck.

He passes out contracts for everyone and tells you to bring him a copy of your work visa and passport

when you return the contract tomorrow. Then everyone gets back in their vehicles and follows the

farmer to his vineyard.

After a quick demonstration of how to do bud rubbing the supervisor tells you to get to work. The job is

kind of fun at first. You vent whatever pent up anger you have on the little branches. You listen to heavy

80’s rock as you rip and kick and tear those little branches off the base of the grape plants. You don’teven notice the time go by you’re so wrapped up in your angsty rock and roll universe.

You look down and realize you’re panting and covered in sweat. You take your ear phones out for a

moment and you’re transported back to an eerily quiet vineyard where there’s nothing to see but green

walls and blue sky. You have a moment of clarity where you see how all the things you’re angry about

are on another continent. You’re on own here, free from the ties that bound you in the past. Then you’re

awakened from your silent reverie by a tall, lanky Canadian guy standing on the other side of the row ofgrape vines in front of you. He says, “It’s break time, eh.”

You thank him for letting you know. As you walk back down your respective rows towards where the

cars are parked the Canadian mentions that a bunch of people from the hostel want to do something

wild tonight, but they can’t decide between going out clubbing or staying in and having a Mardi Gras

party. He says nobody else wants to make the decision. So you have to.

Go clubbing.

Have a Mardi Gras party.



You chose to do bud rubbing for hourly pay.

You take a long drive through the country side to get to your vineyard. When you first leave Hastings you

pass a lot of apple orchards. You cross a river, and as you get farther away from town you see more

vineyards. Some of them have sheep grazing between the rows of grape vines. The road snakes around

cozy hobbit hills, and when the view from your window isn’t blocked by trees you can see a wall of

mountains to the south.

You finally arrive at the vineyard and the supervisor is already there sleeping in the driver’s seat of a big,

white rape van. He wakes up as your car passes by and kicks up dust up through his window. He gets out

of the van and gives you a very quick introduction to bud rubbing. Then he tells you to get to work andgoes back to sleep in the front seat of the van.

All the backpackers wander to an empty row and start snapping the little offshoots that you now know

grow at the bottom of grape vines. You turn awkwardly to your row and get to work pruning your plants.

On the row next to you is a sinfully attractive blonde girl wearing a wide brimmed sun hat.

You strike up some inane small talk to get a conversation going with her, and in no time she’s telling you

about herself and smiling at the sound of her own voice . She’s studying law in Luxembourg, but she’s

taking a break so she doesn’t burn out. She also always wanted to see New Zealand, and she knew after

she got her law degree she’d be too busy. So here she is.

You ask her what she’s doing this weekend, and she says that the hostel is going to do something big,

but it’s up to the guests to decide what. They’re either going out clubbing or staying in and having a

Mardi Gras party. She says she wants to go clubbing, but she’ll go along with whatever you want to do.

Go clubbing.

Have a Mardi Gras party.



You chose to go to Taupo.

You voted for Taupo, and Taupo won. The weekend comes around and half the hostel loads up into

whatever cars are available and head up to Taupo.

You get a window seat in a car full of Germans. You can’t really get into the German rap music they’re

playing on the radio, but you spend the whole ride zoned out in your own private universe staring out

the window at the hills and mountains.

After a three hour drive you arrive in Taupo. You find a free camp site right next to the river and set up

your tents. As soon as your tents are set up everyone jumps back in the cars and heads downtown. You

walk up down the town centre stopping in all the tourist shops to see what kind of quirky souvenirs they

sell. You buy a T-shirt for yourself and a few postcards to send back home.

You pass by an office where they sell tickets to do things like parasailing, sky diving and boat rides. The

backpackers you’re with all want to ride on a boat. Half want to go sailing on Lake Taupo, and the other

half wants to go skiing on a speed boat. Which trip would you like to sign up for?

Go sailing.

Go on the speed boat.



You chose to go to the beach.

You vote for the beach, and the beach wins. The next day the whole hostel is buzzing about the trip. As

excited as everyone is nobody goes to sleep early in order to be well rested for the next day.

You wake up the next morning groggy but determined not to let that get in your way of having a good

time. Around 3pm everyone finally has all their camping gear loaded into their vehicles. You end up in a

van full of backpackers from various Eastern European countries. You can’t understand any of the lyrics

in the songs they play on the CD player, but you like it. You bob your head and tap your feet to the music

while your convoy of vehicles snakes around countless mountain switchbacks.

Finally you arrive at a free, public camp ground right next to the beach. Everyone jumps out of the cars

before the break lights even turn off. You set up your tents and throw all your clothes and food and stuff

in your tent unceremoniously and head to the beach in your bathing suit, which Kiwis call “togs.”

The water is freezing, but you get used to it in no time. It feels good on your sore muscles, and you can

feel the stress of the work week washing off of you.

You come out of the water and join the crowd of other backpackers who didn’t want to get wet. They’retalking to a group of Maori guys who were walking down the beach who say they just came from a

pretty cool beach bonfire further North up the beach, but they’re headed south to a mate’s house party.

They invite everyone to come to their house party, but the bonfire sounds pretty cool too. Which would

you like to do?

Go to the house party.

Go to the bon fire.



You chose to go to Te Mata Peak

You like waterfalls and all, but you want to see Hawkes Bay from the top of the peak. You get home from

work and have a shower and cook a big meal for you and your work mates. The next day you meet them

in the living room watching TV. They all jump up and head out the back door to the parking lot.

On the way to the car one of them says, “Hey, let’s stop in Havelock North on the way and get some

coffee.” Everyone agrees. So you make the ten minute dr ive to Havelock North and find a parking spot

on the main street. You walk around and check out the second hand stores before settling down at a

choice café.

You order a large cappuccino with chocolate sprinkles on top and ask your waiter what there is to do on

Te Mata peak. The waiter says that if you want to spend some time there you can either have a picnic or

go hiking. Which would you like to do?

Go hiking.

Go on a picnic.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Havelock_North






You chose to go to the waterfalls.

You like mountains, but you love jumping off high things into water. So you choose the waterfalls.

Everyone else agrees.

You get back to the hostel and hang out on the back porch talking to other backpackers for several hours

before you finally get around to taking a much need shower and changing your filthy clothes.

The next morning you get up and cook a big traditional breakfast from your home country for yourself

and your workmates. After lounging around for a while and letting your breakfast settle you head to the

parking lot and pile into your workmate’s car.

The drive to the waterfall only takes about fifteen minutes, and it’s a lovely drive through quaint,

wooded countryside. You park on the side of the road and lock all the doors. Then you take your clothes,

towels and snacks with you on a short hike through the forest to the waterfall.

You get to the end of the trail and there are already people doing flips off the waterfall, and there’s a

rope swing nobody told you about. While the girls set out their towels to sunbathe you scramble up the

rocks to get to the top of the waterfall. When you get to the top you see there isn’t a line to use the ropeswing. Would you like to jump off the waterfall or use the rope swing?

Jump off the waterfall.

Use the rope swing.



You chose to have a keg party.

You’ve never been much of a liquor person, but you like beer…a lot. So you convince everyone else to

have a keg party as well. You pay Jason $12, and he asks you if you’d like to come help him get the keg.

You agree.

Jason gives the hostel phone to another backpacker and tells them to take messages while he’s gone.

Then you both head down the backstairs to where his van is parked. You drive to the edge of Hastings to

a microbrewery. You walk inside to the bar area and inform the bartender that you want a keg. The

bartender asks if you want the 5% pale ale or the 7% haymaker. You ask the bartender what the

difference is, and he just stares at you.

Which kind of beer do you want to get?

Get the pale ale.

Get the Haymaker.



You chose to have a cocktail party.

You like beer, but cocktails seem more exotic. When you get back to the hostel after work you get stuck

with the job of collecting money from everyone. You drive a hard sales pitch and end up collecting

almost $200.

You ask the prettiest girl you can find who owns a car to take you to the liquor store. You go inside and

spend five minutes walking up and down the one liquor isle. You can’t believe the price of liquor in New

Zealand. It’s so expensive you have to put more thought into what kind of liquor you’re going to get than

you thought you would.

You ask the girl you came with what she wants to drink, and she says, “Gin or Tequila.”

Which kind of drink will you get?

Get gin.

Get Tequila.



You chose to take a party bus clubbing.

Mardi Gras is cool and all, but you want to get your schwerve on. So when you pick clubbing. The next

day the air at the hostel is full of electricity. Everyone puts on their best clothes, and a few girls go

shopping for suitable party dresses.

A few hours before the bus is scheduled to leave a couple of British guys make a run to the liquor store

and come back with armfuls of beer. Everyone gets started drinking and dancing on the back porch. The

bus finally arrives and you run downstairs to be first on the bus.

The driver stops you and asks where you’re going. You ask where the classiest plac e to go clubbing is.

Without hesitating the driver says, “Napier, obviously. The clubs in Havelock North are full of rich high

school kids and farmers.” So where do you want to go?

Go to Napier.

Go to Havelock North







You chose to have a Mardi Gras themed party.

You’re burnt out on the club scene. It’s too fake, and you never end up hooking up. But everybody lets

loose on Mardi Gras. So you choose to stay in the hostel and throw your own party.

When you get back to the hostel you inform Jason that you’re going to have a Mardi Gras party. He locks

up the reception area and he goes out to buy masks, beads and decorations.

When Jason gets back you spend the evening helping him put up decorations and mix a chilly bin full of

punch. Despite the Cajun music playing on the speakers throughout the hostel the party starts off slow,

but everyone gets loose as the punch goes to their heads. By ten o’clock everyone is pretending they’re

on Bourbon Street in New Orleans earning cheap plastic beads the old fashioned way.

Someone whose face you can’t see too clearly asks if you want to earn some beads for yourself. You’re

having a good time, and you want to get into the spirit of things, but you’re not sure you want to do that

yourself. Do you want to degrade yourself for a handful of plastic necklaces that you’re just going to end

up throwing away eventually anyway?

Degrade yourself for plastic necklaces.

Don’t degrade yourself for plastic necklaces.



You chose to go sailing in Taupo.

Jet boats sound fun, but you came to Taupo to relax, and the lake looks so peaceful you can’t resist the

chance to tour the lake by sail boat. Everyone pays and you book up the entire boat. Then you go look atmore souvenir shops while you wait for the boat to come back from its last excursion.

It finally arrives and unloads its previous passengers. Then your crew boards the ship, and the boat

captain gives a quick safety briefing and passes out complimentary drinks. He makes a lot of canned

jokes that you can tell he says to every group who rides on his boat.

The boat pulls away from the dock and glides out to open waters. He lets you steer the boat for a while,

and he guides you to a rock cliff where a couple of locals carved a gigantic Maori face in the early 1980’s.

After everyone gets a picture of the carvings the captain fires up a BBQ grill at the rear of the boat and

cooks shish kabobs for everyone.

You settle down on a bean bag with your plate and devour the gourmet meal. While you’re sitting there

you strike up a conversation with anyone who will talk to you. Everyone is jovial and flirty, but one

person is extra flirty with you. You think you might be misreading them until they invite you to go out

after the boat ride. What would you like to do?

Have coffee with the French girl.

Have dinner with the Italian guy.



You chose to ride the speed boat in Taupo.

Sail boats may be romantic, but you were lured to New Zealand by the promise of adventure sports, and

you feel the need for speed. So you rent a speed boat and then head to the liquor store for drinks andsnacks before heading down to the docks.

After missing the right pier three times you finally find your boat and introduce yourselves to the captain.

He looks at all the alcohol you’ve brought and says, “It’s gonna be one of those days, huh?”

You grin and say, “Won’t be the first, and it won’t be the last.”

You load all your provisions onto the boat, and once everyone is on board you push off. The captainpushes the accelerator forward and you shoot out towards open waters.

Everyone does terrible at water skiing except for one Canadian girl whose parents apparently owned a

boat when she was younger. So you switch to getting pulled behind the boat in a big inner tube. You run

out of drinks and snacks about the same time you run out of time. The captain turns the boat around

and drops you off at the same pier he picked you up at.

Nobody wants to leave the lake though. So you find a spot on the beach and lay your towels out. As you

relax on the beach you strike up a conversation with the people sunbathing closest to you. Despite your

quirky cultural differences you find you have a lot in common with one of them, and they ask you if

you’d like to do something with them later.

Have coffee with the French girl.

Have dinner with the Italian guy.



You chose to go to the bonfire.

You think about your choices, and you come to the conclusion that you can always have a house party,

but beach parties are rare to you. You ask the Maori guys if it’s legal to have a bonfire on the beach, andone of them replies, “Awww. I don’t know, ey? But you didn’t start it. So if the cops come it’s not your

fault.”

You can’t argue with that logic. You thank the guys for the information and the invitation to the house

party and then head North along the beach to find the bonfire. When you finally find it there are already

a couple other backpackers from the hostel mingling with the crowd. Someone offers you a beer and

you make yourself at home.

Everyone is getting into the spirit of the party, and people keep commenting how sorry they feel for all

their friends back home who aren’t getting to have such a cool adventure. You think a couple of the

people from the party are flirting with you, but you’re not sure until they start accidentally bumping into

you and touching you. You turn the conversation towards sex and joke with them playfully about it. They

joke back, and you know you’re in.

You get an offer to slip away from the crowd and go do your own thing. Which offer will you take?

Go for a midnight swim with the German girl.

Slip off to your tent with the Estonian guy.



You chose to go to the house party.

Beach bonfires are cool, but you’re not sure if that’s even legal in New Zealand. At any rate, you never

pass up a good house party. There could be drinking games. Or better yet, you could teach the localsyour drinking games. You tell the Maori guys you want to go to the house party, and a small group of

other backpackers join you.

You walk down the beach for what feels like an hour until you come to a small trail leading up through

the sand dunes. You follow the trail until you come to an old, wooden house with elaborate awnings.

You and the other backpackers are the only non-Maoris at the whole party, which feels a little awkward

at first, but you get to drinking, joking and laughing with your hosts. They teach you a lot of interestingtid bits about Maori culture, and you end up drunkenly touching your forehead against a bunch of

Maoris foreheads and noses, which is a traditional form of greeting that you find much more personal

and meaningful than a simple handshake.

After making the rounds through the house and talking to everyone you find yourself talking to a a

backpacker who seems really into you. They ask if you want to leave the party. You don’t want to, but

you don’t want to pass up this offer either. Who will you leave the party with?

Go for a midnight swim with the German girl.

Slip off to your tent with the Estonian guy.



You chose to have a picnic on Te Mata Peak.

After working hard at the orchards the last thing in the world you want to do is exert yourself physically

by hiking. So while the waiter is getting your coffee you convince your work mates that the best thingyou can do with the day is go for a picnic on Te Mata Peak.

Your coffee finally comes, and you enjoy it while watching all the people walk past the café as you and

your mates make fun of them for whatever excuse you can find. After you finish your coffee you head

over to the grocery store to stock up on picnic food and wine.

Unfortunately, the cashier asks you for your ID to buy alcohol even though the drinking age in New

Zealand is 18 and you’re obviously much older than that. You don’t have your passport with you. So you

leave the grocery store in shame while one of the other backpackers you’re with runs back to the wine

isle and takes a bottle to a different checkout isle that’s operated by a cashier who doesn’t base their

self-worth on their ability to inconvenience other people.

You drive up to the top of Te Mata Peak and have a wonderful afternoon eating cheese, sipping wine

and enjoying the majestic view of Hawkes Bay and beyond. You lay back on the grass and watch the

clouds while chit chatting with your fellow backpackers. You talk about everything and nothing.

After a while it dawns on you that one of your work mates is being a bit flirty with you. They

nonchalantly ask you if you want to go do something with them later. What do you want to do with the

rest of the day?

Go to Cornwall Park with the British girl.

Get drunk on the balcony with the American guy.



You chose to go hiking at Te Mata Peak

You think picnics are boring whereas hiking is always an adventure. So while your waiter is getting your

coffee you talk the other members of your party into going hiking.

You enjoy your coffee and then head up the mountains. You stop just shy of the top at a public car park.

Before getting out of the car you hide all of your valuables and then get out and lock all the doors.

You take a quick look at a big wooden sign that has all the hiking trails mapped out and pick one of the

easy hikes. The trail takes you through a tranquil forest to the side of Te Mata peak where you can see

all of Hawkes Bay in panorama. Vineyards and orchards stretch out beneath you all the way to the

horizon.

During your walk you and your mates banter about whether or not your home country had views like

this. The conversation bends from one topic to the next until it finds its way to romance and

relationships. You’re saying something about how you’ve passed up a lot of potential relationship

because of your high standards when all of a sudden you get hit in the back with a pine cone.

You recognize immediately that the pine cone wasn’t thrown in anger. It was thrown flirtatiously. You’re just not sure who threw it. To figure out who it was you ask if anyone wants to do anything after the hike.

A British girl suggests going back to Hastings and checking out Cornwall Park. An American guy suggests

going back to the hostel and getting drunk on the balcony. What do you want to do?

Go to Cornwall Park with the British girl.

Get drunk on the balcony with the American guy.



You chose to jump of the waterfall.

The rope swing is tempting, but you’ve had your heart set on jumping off the waterfall. So you walk past

the swing and shimmy onto the waterfall. There’s not enough water coming over the falls to wash youaway. So you shuffle slowly through the ankle deep water until you’re at the middle of the waterfall.

You look down at the water below, and even though you’re only a few meters up your heart skips a beat

when you imagine yourself falling and hitting the water from that height. You try psyching yourself up,

but the more you think about jumping the more you freeze up with anxiety. Down at the shore your

work mates are shouting both encouraging and deprecating remarks at you. Finally you come to the

conclusion that the only way you’re going to bring yourself to jump is to stop analysing the situation,switch your brain off for a second and just jump.

You still your mind for a moment and throw yourself forward. You fall with the grace of a bag of

potatoes and splash into the water. It’s absolutely freezing and your heart skips a beat again. You swim

as fast as you can back to shore and throw a blanket around yourself.

You spend the rest of the afternoon sitting on the shore watching other, more graceful athletes, jump

off the waterfall and swing from the rope. Your mates ask if you’re going to jump again, but yo u sayyou’ve done enough for one day.

You and your mates share some crisps someone brought, and you discuss what you’re going to do with

the rest of the day. You say that you’re up for anything, and you get two offers. A Spanish girl invites you

to spend the evening with her on top of Te Mata Peak in her camping van. An Irishman suggests you go

to the gambling bar with him and live it up tonight. What will you do?

Sleep in the caravan with the Spanish girl.

Go to the gambling bar with the Irishman.



You chose to use the rope swing at the waterfall.

You want to impress your work mates with your daring acrobatics, and in your younger years you used

to be able to do a double back flip off of a sufficiently high rope swing. It’s been a while since you’vedone it, but you’re sure you’re still in good enough shape to pull it off.

You get a good, strong grip just above a knot on the rope and pull it as tight as you can before lifting your

feet off the ground. You hold onto the rope with all your might, and when it’s fully extended over the

water you pull your knees up to your chest and spin yourself backwards as fast as possible half a

moment before letting go of the rope. You close your eyes and hope you have enough height and speed

to pull off the manoeuvre.

The first part of your body to hit the water is your rib cage. Your spin was off-centre, and you didn’t have

enough height to complete your double back flip. The impact knocks the wind out of your lungs, and the

frigid water shocks your system, but it also numbs the pain in your side.

You want to get out of the freezing water as fast as possible, but the pain in your side slows down your

mad scramble to swim to shore. You finally pull yourself out of the water and let out a melodramatic

groan while holding your side. Your mates applaud your effort and mock your failure. You take it all instride and lay down on a towel to rest. While you lay there you’re pampered by your work mates, and

you spend the next half hour sharing swimming stories.

Eventually the topic of conversation turns to what you’re going to do tonight, and you get two offers. A

Spanish girl wants you to spend the night freedom camping with her, and an Irishman wants to go

gambling.

Sleep in the caravan with the Spanish girl.

Go to the gambling bar with the Irishman.



You chose to get a keg of pale ale.

The cheapskate in you says to get the beer with the highest alcohol content. On the other hand, you

don’t want the party to get too out of control. So you pick the pale ale. Jason calls you a pussy but goesalong with your decision. You pay for the keg and then pull Jason’s van around the back of the

microbrewery where a burly man already has your keg and pump waiting for you. You load it all up and

then head to a petrol station to get a couple of bags of ice. While you’re there you pick up a pack of Tim

Tams.

When you get back to the hostel the back porch is full of backpackers waiting eagerly for your return.

You set up the keg in a big trashcan outside and dump the ice over the keg. Jason puts on a goodselection of Indie music, and everyone gets on with enjoying themselves.

You pass up the opportunity to do a keg stand or play flip cups and just enjoy sitting outside swapping

stories with other adventurers who have been to the far corners of the world. By ten O’clock the keg is

empty, but you have half a box of beer left in the fridge from last weekend. So you go grab a couple and

offer them to the backpackers you’ve been talking to the most.

They thank you and give you a smile that you think is more than a little flirtatious. Emboldened by theliquid courage (or possibly liquid stupidity) you’ve been consuming all night you throw caution to the

wind and brazenly hit on the person next to you. There’s a Canadian girl and a Swiss guy sitting next to

you. Which one do you hit on?

Hit on the Canadian girl.

Hit on the Swiss guy.



You chose to get a keg of Haymaker.

The choice between getting 5% beer and 7% is a no-brainer to you. You pick the 7% Haymaker even

though you don’t know what “Haymaker” means. You pay the bartender and Jason pulls his van aroundto the back of the microbrewery where you pick up the keg. On the way back to the hostel you stop by a

petrol station for ice, and while you’re there you buy a handful of Kinder Eggs. Then you head to The

Warehouse to buy red plastic cups like you always see in movies about American university students.

You get back to the hostel and announce loudly that the party can start. Jason goes into the office and

puts AC/DC on the stereo while you hook up the tap to the keg and start pouring drinks. In no time the

party devolves into a series of inadvisable drinking games.

By ten O’clock the party is in full swing, and you don’t know what’s going on. People are singing at the

top of their lungs, dancing on tables and hugging. You get in the groove of things and decide to take a

chance. There’s only one person at the party who is both your type and seems interested in you. So you

lay down (what you think are) your smoothest moves on them.

Are you hitting on a Canadian girl or a Swiss guy?

Hit on the Canadian girl.

Hit on the Swiss guy.



You chose to get tequila for the cocktail party.

You get to talking in the liquor store, and you come to the unanimous decision that Tequila makes for

the wildest parties. So you get as many bottles of tequila and mixers as you can afford.

You get back to the hostel and line up all the bottles on the counter space in the kitchen. As soon as the

bottles are out of the bags there are backpackers standing behind you demanding drinks. You throw the

most vocal complainer a pack of plastic shot glasses and hand him a bottle of clear tequila. You thank

him for volunteering to pour shots, and then you get back to the business of making mixed drinks.

You mix a couple of different bowls of tequila-based punch and set them out in the living room. You see

that Jason has set out two big boxes full of silly hats, and everyone in the party is now sporting ridiculous

hats. Within the hour people are starting to act silly in their silly hats.

Someone shouts “Twister!” and out comes the Twister mat. You join the game and end up falling all over

everyone, which nobody seems to mind. Sometime later you find yourself on the couch next to a Russian

girl and a Malaysian guy. You’re feeling randy from the game of Twister and decide to hit on someone.

Who would you like to hit on?

Hit on the Russian girl.

Hit on the Malaysian guy.



You chose to get gin for the cocktail party.

You know that tequila always makes a wild party, but tequila is unpredictable. You’d rather go with a

drink that gets people chatty and emotional but not insane. You also want to make some drinks thathave a little bit of class. After much consideration you finally settle on gin. You buy as many bottles of gin

as you can afford as well as some sweet vermouth and a few other mixers.

You bring the drinks back to the hostel, and as you’re unpacking the drinks in the kitchen a British guy

who used to be a bartender volunteers to mix the drinks. Since you don’t really know what you’re doing

you gladly oblige him. He mixes some killer drinks and gets the party going.

By ten O’clock everyone is getting emotional and sappy. People are leaning on each other and pouring

out their hearts and souls talking about religion, politics and ex-lovers. You find yourself on the couch

between a Russian girl and a Malaysian guy. The gin is going to your head, and your inhibitions are

almost non-existent. You decide to hit on someone. Who would you like to hit on?

Hit on the Russian girl.

Hit on the Malaysian guy.



You chose to go clubbing in Napier.

If Napier is where the classy clubs are then that’s where the classy people are. So you tell the bus driver

to take you and your crew to Napier. You jump on the bus and wait for everyone else to pile in, whichtakes forever. The driver starts to get a little impatient, but eventually Jason chases everyone onto the

bus and apologizes to the driver.

The whole ride to Napier a drunken Estonian guy is standing in the isle at the front of the bus leading the

backpackers in drunken songs that nobody knows more than half the words to. You feel a little bad for

the bus driver for having to put up with the lunacy, but everyone else is having a great time. So…eh.

The bus pulls into the clubbing district in Napier, which is right on the waterfront. You look out the

window, and everybody is dressed like movie stars. You stumble off the bus and realize you might have

had too much to drink already. Your suspicions are confirmed when the bouncer at the first night club

doesn’t let you in because you’re too drunk. He’s not mean about it though. He tells you to go “have a

feed” and come back when you’ve sobered up.

You step out of line and walk straight to the next club. This time you stand up straight and don’t say a

word. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you in without incident. You pass the bar and head straight tothe dance floor, which is way too small and already full of people doing as much dancing as they can

without having any room to move.

You study the people on the dance floor until you find someone who both drunk and attractive. You

narrow your choices down to two lucky potential dance partners. Who will you dance with?

Dance with the Chinese girl.

Dance with the Korean guy.



You chose to go clubbing in Havelock North.

If the bus driver says that Napier is where all classiest clubs are then the choice is obvious. You proudly

tell the driver, “Take us Havelock North, and be quick about it.” Unfortunately, the rest of the backpackers aren’t quick about getting on the bus. Jason tries to get everyone out the door and into the van,

but he’d have more luck herding cats.

Eventually the bus fills up and the driver speeds off to Havelock North. You only have time to sing a few

drunken anthems with everyone else on the bus before the it pulls up to a dimly lit night club with neon

signs in the windows.

You wait in line behind a group of high school-aged kids. The girls are dressed like movie stars, but the

guys are wearing blue jeans and T-shirts. You finally get to the front of the line, and the bouncer checks

your passport like he works for immigration.

He lets you inside, and you proceed to the bar where you order an $8 beer. You drink it in a few

expensive gulps and decide not to buy another one. Instead you head over to the dance floor, which is

really just the corner of the club where the speakers are.

There’s not enough room to dance. So you basically just shuffle in place. You realize this is pointless

without a dance partner. So you find the only other person who is anywhere near your age and shuffle

over to them to get your freak on.

Who will you dance with?

Dance with the Chinese girl.

Dance with the Korean guy.

Y h t d d lf f l ti kl



You chose to degrade yourself for plastic necklaces.

You figure, what the heck? You’re out of your home country, and it’s more or less Mardi Gras . So you

decide to go with the flow and degrade yourself for a handful of plastic beads on a string. You lift upyour shirt and expose your chest, and six people with camera phones snap pictures, which are uploaded

to the Internet within 24 hours. Your photo becomes a popular internet meme, and you live with the

shame for the rest of your life.

Despite this fact, the other backpackers at the party are impressed by your courage and lack of

inhibitions. Before you know it you have people following you around and nonchalantly turning every

conversation you have to the topic of sex.

You miss all of the signs that you’re being hit on. Luckily, your fan club loses their patience and decide to

be upfront with you. One of the backpackers asks you if you’d like to go someplace

quieter…alone…together. Who will you slip away from the party with?

Go to the quiet room with the Australian girl.

Go to the laundry room with the Texan guy.

You chose not to degrade yourself for plastic necklaces



You chose not to degrade yourself for plastic necklaces.

You wouldn’t exactly describe yourself as chaste, but your mother didn’t raise you to take your shirt off

in front of a room full of people. So you announce confidently that you’ll be keeping your clothes oneven if it means you don’t get a handful of beaded necklaces.

You get a few jeers from the crowd, but others are impressed by your self-control. You take your empty

cup to the punch bowl and fill it back up. While you’re there you feel a warm hand on your shoulder.

Another hand lands on your other shoulder, and together they massage your shoulders and neck. You

turn your head around to see who’s behind you. It’s a tall, blonde backpacker who you’ve been making

googly eyes at all night. You didn’t think they were interested in you, but apparently you’ve done

something they like.

They lean forward and whisper into your ear an invitation to slip away from the party and go somewhere

more private. Who would you like to slip away with?

Go to the quiet room with the Australian girl.

Go to the laundry room with the Texan guy.

You chose to have coffee with the French girl



You chose to have coffee with the French girl.

You tell the French girl you’d love to have coffee with her…even though you already went out for coffee

this morning. So you walk from the beach to a little café where all the art on the wall is for sale. You talkabout your childhoods, your interests, beliefs, hopes and fears. You can’t believe how much you have in

common despite your cultural differences.

At some point in the conversation you realize nobody is talking. You’re just sitting there looking into

each other’s eyes. You blink and snap out of it and say, “Should we get a taxi back to camp?”

With hunger in her eyes she says, “Oui.”

With that you spend the rest of the camping trip together in an old 2-person tent.

When you get back to the hostel you sheepishly ask Jason if you and your new friend can share a double

room. He says yes, and you move your stuff into the new room. You bring your sheets from your first

bed back to Jason, and when you do he says that he’s got more work for you. Which kind of work would

you like to do?

Do grape picking.

Do leaf plucking.

Do wire lifting.

Play online poker.

You chose to have dinner with the Italian guy



You chose to have dinner with the Italian guy.

You timidly agree to go to dinner with the Italian, but you tell him you didn’t bring any nice clothes. He

says, “No, no. You misunderstand me. I cook dinner for you.”

After everyone is done sunbathing you pile back up in your cars and head over to the grocery store to

pick up ingredients. While you walk up and down the aisles the Italian tells you about his family and his

customs. You love the idea of spending all evening at the dinner table every night surrounded by good

people laughing, talking and drinking wine.

Back at the camp site the Italian fires up the grill and spends the next two and a half hours making the

best meal you’ve ever eaten. After the meal you ask him what they have for desert in Italy. He looks you

in the eye and says, “Love.” With that he leads you back to your tent, and you have slow, passionate

desert all night long.

The rest of the camping trip is a blur, and when you get back to the hostel you ask Jason if there are any

double rooms available that you can share. He says there isn’t at the moment, but when one comes

available he’ll move you in together.

Before you head back to your room to unpack Jason mentions that he’s got more work for you. What

kind of work would you like to do?

Do grape picking.

Do leaf plucking.

Do wire lifting.

Play online poker.

You chose to go on a midnight swim with the German.



You chose to go on a midnight swim with the German.

The German girl leads you by the hand out to the beach and playfully suggests that you go for a midnight

swim. You say, “I don’t know. The water is pretty cold.”

She pouts her lips playfully and turns away from you. She takes her top off and drops it onto the sand

before skipping out into the waves. Your heart misses a beat, and the next moment you’re in the water

with her.

Unfortunately, before anything else can happen you’re both caught in a strong rip tide and pulled out to

sea where you drown. Your families mourn you passionately at first, but over the years your memory

fades and they move on with their lives. In the end your life amounts to little more than a statistic

proving that you should always respect the ocean and practice water safety.

After the life leaves your body you find yourself floating in black emptiness, not water, just infinite

emptiness. You have no idea how long you’re there floating in limbo before Death (with a skeleton face

and scythe and everything) materializes in front of you.

Death offers you a second chance at life and says he’ll send you back to your old body at a point in time

before you died. Pick when/where you want to go back to.

Return to life just before you went swimming.

Return to life when you arrived at the Rotten Apple and choose to do vineyard work instead of orchard

work.

You chose to slip off to camp with the Estonian guy.



p p g y

You put your arm around the Estonian’s waist and leave the party with him. You take your time walking

down the beach back to the campground. The stars are out, and you can see the whole universe splayedacross the sky in front of you.

It makes you think how small you are in the cosmic scale of things and how short life is and how

important it must be to make the most out of the fleeting time we have on this amazing, mysterious

planet.

When you reach the camp the Estonian takes his arm off of your waist and brushes your bangs away

from your eyes. He looks at you deeply and asks, “What do you want to do?”

You say, “Make the most of the time we have together.” So he leads you into his tent, and you have

absolutely mental cave man sex. You do things you’ve never done before and may never do again.

The next day everyone breaks down camp and heads back to the hostel to recuperate from the beach

trip. You’re sitting at the Internet café Skyping one of your friends back home and telling her all about

your wild weekend when Jason pops his head out of the reception area.

He congratulates you on your successful beach trip and informs you that there’s more work available.

What kind of work would you like to do?

Pick apples.

Do grape thinning.

You chose to go to Cornwall Park with the British girl.



You lean against the British girl and tell her you’d love to join her for a private walk in a park. You stay at

Te Mata Peak for another hour or so enjoying the view before driving back to Hastings. Your driver parksthe car, and everyone gets out. The rest of your group heads up the back stairs to the hostel, but you

and the British girl set off walking down Heretaunga Street.

You turn right at Pack N’ Save and walk a few more blocks to Cornwall Park. You walk through the Asian

garden and are disappointed that none of the ponds have Koi fish in them. The British girl travelled

through Asia last year after graduating university, and she fills your head with stories of adventure and

intrigue.

You stop at an avery and watch the exotic birds nibble corn cobs and grapes. The British girl asks you

what your favourite movie is, and without hesitating you answer, “Rockula.”

She puts her hand on her chest and says, “I love Rockula.” You look into each other’s eyes for a moment

before grabbing each other and making out like high school freshmen. Next to you a mother grabs her

children and ushers them away from your vulgar scene. You notice this and feel a little bashful. So you

suggest that you head back to the hostel.

When you get back to the hostel you proceed to make out with your new sort-of girlfriend in the middle

of the hallway. Jason walks up to you carrying an armful of blankets and stares at you blankly. You look

up from your face feast and say, “What?”

Jason says, “Can you please move? I need to get in the linen closet. Oh, also, there’s more work available.

What kind of work would you two love birds like to do next?”

Do bud rubbing.

Do weed pulling.

You chose to get drunk on the balcony with the American guy.



You find the American’s over-confidence attractive, and you can understand his accent. Plus, after

working all week and spending all day walking around you like the idea of spending the rest of the day just sitting around the back porch all night drinking and socializing.

You and your work mates take one last look at the view and head back to the car. You stop at the liquor

store on the way back to the hostel and pick up a few boxes of cheap, 440 ounce beers. The American

carries the boxes up the stairs and puts them away in the fridge. He meets you back out on the porch

and hands you a beer, which you thank him for.

He sees you shivering. So he takes off his jacket and puts it around you. You can smell his scent on the jacket and find it intoxicating. Of course, that could just be the beer talking, but you don’t care.

You spend the evening huddled together on the balcony talking about anything and everything. Over the

hours you inch your arms towards and then around each other. By the end of the night you’re leaning

against his chest wrapped in his arms. You look up at him, and he looks at you. Then you have that kiss.

You know the one I’m talking about.

After the kiss you get up simultaneously and go back to his double room to be alone for the rest of the

night.

The next morning he wakes you up with breakfast and coffee. He also mentions that while he was out of

the room he ran into Jason who said there’s more work available. You just need to pick what k ind of

work you want to do.

Do bud rubbing.

Do weed pulling.

You chose to sleep in the caravan with the Spanish girl.



You hang out around the waterfall for a few more hours, and you swing off the rope a few times before

drying off and heading back to the hostel. You when you get back you take a shower and pack a bag.

You leave with the Spanish girl out the back door and find her camper van in the parking lot. She drives

you back through Havelock North into the mountains. You park in the public parking space near the

waterfall, and she unloads some camping chairs while you get your bags. You follow the hiking trail in

the opposite direction of the waterfall until you find a secluded spot near the river to enjoy the rest of

the day together.

You share a bottle of wine and ask each other questions about your home countries, what kind oftraveling you’ve done, where you want to go next and what you hope to get out of it all. You find

everything about each other exotic and wonderful… except she likes a few bands that you don’t.

It starts getting dark. So you head back to the van and crawl into the bed in the back. You lay on your

sides facing each other while poking each other playfully as an excuse to get your hands on each other.

Once that barrier has been broken you put your arm around her back and pull her towards you.

Everything that happens after that is nobody’s business but yours and her’s.

The next morning you take your time snuggling before driving down to Havelock North for a cup of

coffee at a café. When that’s done you go back to the hostel to brush your teeth and have a shower. On

your way past reception Jason stops you and tells you there’s more work available. What do you want to

do?

Pick cherries.

Work at the carnival.

You chose to go to the gambling bar with the Irish man.



You love the Irishman’s accent, and you much prefer a night of excitement to a night of just sitting

around. You hang out at the waterfall for a while until everyone starts getting antsy. Then you pack upyour things and head back to the hostel. You take a shower and get dressed up. You meet the Irishman

on the back porch and hang out there for a while visiting with other backpackers and trying to convince

as many people as possible to go out to the gambling bar. When you feel like you’ve recruited everyone

you can everyone finishes their drinks and heads down the back stairs. You walk down the street, over

the railroad tracks and then for a couple more blocks. You come to the gambling bar, and nobody cards

you when you go in.

You order a pitcher and bring it back to the table the other backpackers have already claimed. You fill up

everyone’s glasses and take yours to the pokey room with the Irishman. The room is crammed full of slot

machines, and all the lights and buzzers make the room feel like a space ship from a child’s dream. You

spend the evening drinking and playing the slot machines. You leave the bar around midnight $35 richer

from the slot machines. The Irishman leaves $50 poorer. As you’re walking out of the bar he says, “So

much for the luck of the Irish.”

You turn to him and say, “I don’t know about that.”

He takes the cue and kisses you. You stand there on the sidewalk kissing for a while but not long enough

to be tacky. Then you walk hand in hand back to the hostel. On your way back to his room you pass the

reception area, and Jason says, “Hey, before you disappear for the rest of the night, there’s some more

work starting tomorrow. Which job would you like to do?”

Pick cherries.


You chose to hit on the Canadian girl.



The Canadian girl next to you looks better than any of the girls you went to high school with. She’s so

attractive it’s a l ittle intimidating, and it makes you want to move to Canada. You decide you’re going tospend the rest of the night hitting on her.

Unfortunately, you’re too drunk to make civilized conversation. In your mind you’re acting like James

Bond, but in reality you act like a nervous, bumbling man child. At some point you excuse yourself to go

use the toilet, and when you come back the Canadian girl is sitting on a British football player’s lap.

You go to the fridge and grab a beer and take it back to your room even though you’re not supposed to

bring drinks into your room. You lay in bed drinking alone beating yourself up while a Belgium girl whohas had her eye on you for some time waits outside for your to come back from where ever you went.

You wake up the next morning with a hangover and drag yourself to the kitchen for a cup of coffee or

three. Jason is vacuuming the living room, and the sound makes you not want to live anymore. Jason

switches off the vacuum and says, “Oh, hey. I just got o f f the phone with a contractor. There’s more

work going on. What kind of work would you like to do?”

Work at a winery.

Work at a canned fruit factory.

You chose to hit on the Swiss guy.



You look the Swiss guy up and down for the tenth time. He’s clean, well-dressed and is obviously going

to be successful at whatever he does. Plus, he has a cool accent and nice hair. You ask him if he can getyou another drink, and he jumps at the opportunity enthusiastically. Part of you is disappointed. You’d

hoped he’d play harder to get, but you relax a little, because you don’t have to wonder if he’s into you or

if he’s going to turn you down and make you feel like an ant.

He brings back your beer, and as he hands it to you your fingers touch. You both hold onto the cup for

longer than is necessary, and you smile at each other knowingly. He sits back down and scoots next to

you until your hips are touching. You sit like that together for most of the next hour making small talk

filled with thinly veiled innuendos.

The beer is going to your head, and you realize that you’re not going to be able to stay awake much

longer. Your head starts to spin, and then your stomach starts to spasm. You turn your head away from

the Swiss guy and projectile vomit straight into a German girl’s hair. You both run to the bathroom

shrieking, and neither of you shows your face at the party for the rest of the night.

The next morning you poke your head out of your room and don’t see anyone in the hallway, but youcan hear Jason vacuuming. You start to walk to the kitchen for a glass of water but when you turn the

corner Jason is in your way. He turns off his vacuum and steps aside to let you pass. As you go by he says,

“Was it a good party last night?” You mumble some non-answer, and he says, “Yeah, okay. Anyway, by

the way, some more work came up. What kind of work do you want to do next?”

Work at the winery.

Work at the canned fruit factory.

You chose to hit on the Russian girl.



You’re attracted to Russians’ no nonsense attitude and how they always have a story that’s worse than

yours. So you do your best to talk to the Russian girl as much as possible without looking like you’retrying to hit on her.

Your coyness makes her think that you could take her or leave her, which makes her want you more. She

decides to take matters into her own hands, and she challenges you to a game of pool. You ask her, “So

what does the winner get?”

She says, “The loser has to do whatever the winner wants.”

You laugh nonchalantly, but inside your head you’re doing a victory dance. Your mental victory dance is

short lived though, because she beats you at pool….brutally. After she sinks the eight ball you put your

cue stick back on the wall rack and shake her hand. You say, “Congratulations. So, what do you want me

to do?”

She smiles at you wickedly and says, “You will follow me now.” Then she takes you back to her room and

dominates you in ways that leaves marks on your body for weeks. It’s the most exciting and terrifying

experience you’ve ever had or will have.

The next morning you limp into the kitchen and steal some ice out of the freezer. You look up and see a

notice written on the chalk board above the sink. It says, “New jobs available: Manager of the Rotten

Apple or waiter at a Turkish restaurant.”

Which job would you like to take?

Become the new manager of the Rotten Apple.

Become a waiter.

You chose to hit on the Malaysian guy.



You start talking to the Malaysian guy and are immediately impressed by how kind and sweet he is. You

think you might have finally found a guy who isn’t a complete jerk. You try to ask him about his home,

but you can barely hear anything each other are saying over the party music. So you ask him if he wants

to slip away to the quiet room.

You move to the quiet room and sit on one of the couches together close enough for your bodies to

touch. He tells you lots of interesting facts about Malaysia that you never knew and probably never

would have if you’d never met this guy. Just making conversation you ask about Malaysian television,

and he jumps up off the couch excitedly and says, “I’ll show you my favourite show!” Then he runs out of

the room and returns a few minutes later with his laptop.

You spend the rest of the party snuggled together watching Malaysian television. Then you spend the

rest of the night holding each other. You tell yourself that the emotional connection is better than sex,

but deep down inside you’re actually disappointed you didn’t get lucky…because it’s been a while… like,

a long while.

The next morning you slowly lift the Malaysian’s arm off of you and slip off to the kitchen to make sometea. You look up at the chalk board above the sink and see an announcement written in big blue letters.

It says, “Two people needed to work for reduced rent. Positions available: dish washer and bathroom

cleaner.”

You run to the reception area and press the big yellow button on the wall. A loud buzz echoes

throughout the hostel, and a few minutes later Jason comes around the corner. You tell him you want

one of the jobs. He says, “Which job do you want?”

Become the hostel kitchen cleaner.

Become the hostel bathroom cleaner.

You chose to dance with the Chinese girl.



You’ve never danced let alone flirted with a Chinese girl. So you have absolutely no idea how to

approach her or read her body language. As dire as that makes the situation sound you take it as a

challenge. You stride up to the Chinese girl like John Travolta and pull her into your arms. You spin her

around and swing her away from you. You catch her hand and roll her back into your arms and dip her.

Suspended in the air she looks up to you, and you look down at her. You pull her up to your chest and

kiss her like two stars in a classic movie.

Just kidding. Both of you dance like chickens all night, but you don’t notice because you’re so into each

other. You spend the night laughing and groping each other until the clubs close and the bus takes you

back to the hostel. The giggling and grouping continues in her bed room. Then the giggling turns to

moaning, and the groping turns to scratching.

You spend the whole next day lying in bed together finding out that you have absolutely nothing in

common. You’re so opposite on everything that you can’t help but feel that under different

circumstances (or given enough time) you would be nemeses.

You leave her room contemplating running off into the night and hiding in the woods. As you passreception Jason gives you a big, cheesy thumbs up because everybody knows what you did last night. He

tells you he’s got more work for you. What job would you like to do?

Pull an “Into the Wild.”

Be a sorter at the pack house.

You chose to dance with the Korean guy.



You look around the dance floor for a partner who is up to your standards, and you see a tall, dark and

handsome Korean guy from the hostel. You don’t dance over to him. You just make sure he sees you

making eye contact with him, and then he dances over to you.

You groove together for a half hour, and he has all the right moves…unlike you, but he doesn’t seem to

mind. Your flirtatious dancing turns into grinding, and then that turns into making out on the dance floor.

After a couple of minutes you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and it’s a bouncer who tells

you to leave.

You walk out of the hostel and ask the Korean guy, “So what do we do until the bus leaves?”

He says, “Why don’t we get a taxi back to the hostel?”

You agree, and ten minutes later you’re headed back to Hastings. Another fifteen minutes later the taxi

pulls up to the front door. The Korean guy pays the driver and you go back to the Korean’s room where

he teaches you the Korean words for all the body parts of yours that he kisses. You don’t remember any

of the words, but you’ll never forget the experience.

You sleep in late and miss work the next day. Around lunch time you get a text message from your boss

saying that you’re fired for not showing up to work. You deleted the message and go ask Jason what kind

of other job opportunities are available. He says there’s a pack house job available. It sounds a little

boring, and you consider just running off into the wild without any money or plan like that guy on “Into

the Wild” and see what happens.

Pull an “Into the Wild.”


You chose to go to the quiet room with the Australian girl.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0758758/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1








You accept the Australian girl’s invitation and sneak off to the quiet room hand in hand. As soon as the

door is shut behind you she pushes you against it and you start swapping spit. She pulls herself away

from you long enough to pull your shirt off. She lunges at you again, but you stop her and say, “We

should put a table against the door so nobody comes in.”

She agrees and together you barricade the door. With that little task done you fall onto the couch and

proceed to rip the rest of each other’s clothes off. She pushes you onto your back and climbs on top of

you. You look up into her eyes hungrily. Then you look over her shoulder and see a whole crowd of

backpackers on the back porch looking through the window holding up their camera phones.

You briefly consider telling the Australian, but you don’t want to ruin the mood. So you decide to just

keep on doing what you’re doing and worry about the consequences later.

The next morning Jason opens the sliding window that connects the reception area to the quiet room

and asks you if you’d like a new job. Which job would you like?

Pick apples on a group contract.

Pick apples on a solo contract.

You chose to go to the laundry room with the Texan guy.

l l l h l d



As a general rule you expect your romantic liaisons to happen in romantic places under romantic

circumstances, but you’re swept up with the vibe of the party, and you rationalize to yourself that

everyone needs to have at least one wild, uninhibited experience…preferably with someone who

doesn’t live in your home town and/or know anyone you know. So you throw caution to the wind and

seize the opportunity to live out your cowboy fantasy.

He leads you into the laundry room, and you shut and barricade the door behind you. He lifts you up

onto the drier and puts $3 in to turn it on. The slight shaking doesn ’t really do anything for you, but at

least it muffles the sound. Forty five minutes later you both fall asleep on a dirty pile of sheets.

The next morning Jason tries to open the door to the laundry room to finish washing the sheets you’re

sleeping on, but the door won’t open. So he pounds on the door angrily. You and the Texan hastily put

your clothes back on and try to sneak out the window, but it won’t open far enough for you to fit

through. So the Texan opens the door and has a very awkward conversation with Jason in which both of

you almost get asked to leave the hostel.

After you apologize enough times Jason finally decides not to kick you out. Instead he says, “Well, while

I’ve got you here, there’s some more work available. Which job do you want?”

Pick apples on a group contract.

Pick apples on a solo contract.

You chose to do grape picking.

Y h t d i ki b it d lik d ’t h t d h h lift i d



You choose to do grape picking because it sounds like you don’t have to do much heavy lift ing, and

you’re right. You spend your days with a pair of worn out clippers cutting bunches of grapes off of vines

and then throwing them in a bucket. It’s not all romantic and easy though. Your back hurts from bending

over, and you come back to the hostel every afternoon covered in sticky grape goo.

Your favourite part of the job is driving too and from work. Every time you finish harvesting the grapes

from one vineyard you and your crew move to another one and pick all their grapes. Over the course of

the season you get to ride all around Hawkes Bay. One vineyard you work at is on the wall of a valley in

the mountains. It’s the hardest vineyard you work at since you have to walk up and down the steep

embankment all day, but it’s your favourite job, because the valley is kind of what you always imagined

Heaven looks like.

To get to another vineyard you have to drive past a fresh blueberry ice cream stand where a cute blonde

girl works. You stop there every day after work to get a cone. You have to pass by a microbrewery to get

to another vineyard, and you stop off for a pint every day you work at that vineyard.

Other than buying a few blueberry ice cream cones and a couple of pints of beer you don’t waste your

money, and you save up enough to travel around New Zealand in search of more adventure. You weigh

your options and decide you want to go to one of the following places after you leave The Rotten Apple.

Which one do you want to go to?

Go to Raglan.

Go to Coromandel.

You chose to do leaf plucking.

You haven’t done all of the seasonal fruit jobs available in Hawkes Bay but you know people who have



You haven t done all of the seasonal fruit jobs available in Hawkes Bay, but you know people who have,

and from what you’ve heard leaf plucking sounds the easiest. So you choose to do that.

Your research proved correct. Leaf plucking is the least physically demanding seasonal fruit job.

Unfortunately, it’s also the most mind-numbing. Every day you show up at a vineyard and walk down the

rows plucking off any leaf blocking sunlight from reaching the grape clusters. All you do is pick pick pick

pick pick. The monotony slowly drives you insane.

You lose yourself in your thoughts and start living in the past. You relive old conflicts and romances in

your mind. You start having entire conversations with yourself about what you’re going to do with yourlife and why the hell you’re spending all day picking leaves off of plants when your body is basically a

bidpedal autonomous cosmic super computer with opposable thumbs. You’re the most valuable tool in

the universe, but here you are picking leaves and suffering from sensory deprivation.

By the end of the season you have no concept of who you are anymore and decide to embark on a new

journey of self-discovery. Where will your next journey begin?

Go to Raglan.

Go to Coromandel.

You chose to do wire lifting.

All of the people you like best from the hostel are all on the wire lifting team So you jump at the chance



All of the people you like best from the hostel are all on the wire lifting team. So you jump at the chance

to spend more time with them, and you get your wish. You wake up at the same time every day and

have breakfast with each other. If anyone over sleeps someone always wakes them up. You ride to work

together, and you partner up on each row of grape vines so you can work faster and have someone to

talk to. You ride home with each other and spend the evenings sitting on the back porch together.

Over the weeks you learn the life stories of each member of your crew and you marvel at how wildly

different and yet exactly the same your lives have been and how they led you all to the same far corner

of the world at the same time.

Even though you only end up spending a few months together you bond like family and create memories

together that will always hold a special place in your heart. You have a few misunderstandings, but you

don’t hold them against each other because your friendship is important.

You savour the time you have together because you know it’s fleeting, and you’ve only got one shot to

make the memories you’ll all take to your graves. So you burn like roman candles in the sky and raise a

toast to life every night.

Inevitably the day comes when life pulls you apart and throws you in different directions. You try to be

nonchalant about it, but you get a little chocked up when all the guys shake each other’s’ hands and all

the girls get hugs and kisses. Heading out of the parking lot you take one last look back and wave

goodbye one last time before setting your course for…

Go to Raglan.

Go to Coromandel.

You chose to play online poker.

You’ve heard of people making a full time job out of playing online poker and earning a lot of money



You ve heard of people making a full time job out of playing online poker and earning a lot of money

while just sitting around in their bathrobes. You convince yourself that these people have life figured out,

and you’re going to live the dream just like them. You’ll hang out in the hostel all day w ith your laptop

making money, and when you’ve made a couple thousand you’ll go travel all over New Zealand with

money you got for free.

It’s a beautiful dream. Unfortunately for you the dream turns out to be a nightmare. You lose all of your

savings over the course of a week and have to call your parents and have them wire you some money so

you don’t have to live off of butter and rice.

You drag your tail to reception and ask Jason if he has any jobs available. He says he has three. Which

one would you like?

Do grape picking.

Do leaf plucking.

Do wire lifting.

You chose to do apple picking.

You’ve heard that apple pickers can make $200-$300 per day because you don’t get paid by the hour;



You ve heard that apple pickers can make $200 $300 per day because you don t get paid by the hour;

you get paid $30-$40 per bin you fill with apples. Unfortunately, you quickly discover that you have to be

in peak mental and physical condition to be able to make that kind of money.

Your first day of apple picking you only make $70, but after a week you’re making around $140. By the

end of the next week you’re making a respectable $180 per day. You use all the energy you have at work

every day, and you’re amazed that you’re still able to keep putting in a full day’s work. For that matter,

you’re surprised that everyone you work with is able to work all day every day. You figured someone

would have broken down in tears and run out of the orchard screaming. You know it’s happened before

because your supervisor told you that every year a few backpackers crack under the stress of doing real

work.

You don’t crack. You get better, and your last week of apple picking you break the $300 mark. Now you

have enough money to do some traveling. Where will you go to first?

Go to Raglan.

Go to Coromandel.

You chose to do grape thinning.

You’re absolutely terrified of heights. You can’t even stand on a step ladder without getting wobbly



y g p g g y

knees. Since working in apple orchards requires using a tall aluminium ladder you choose to do grape

thinning. Of course, you don’t tell Jason you’re afraid of heights. Since you can’t think of a good excuse

why you want to do grape thinning you don’t offer one. You just say, “I want to do grape thinning.”

Every day you take a moment to appreciate that your feet never leave the ground. You get into the work,

which isn’t bad. All you have to do is use a pair of garden clippers to cut off the runty, green grape

clusters off the vines so that the ripe, purple grapes will get bigger and juicier. The work isn’t bad. It’s

just frustrating sometimes when the grape clusters grow wrapped around each other and you have to

try to untangle them without bruising the grapes you want to keep on the vine.

Over the weeks you become an expert at grape thinning and come to think of yourself as a grape artist.

Having said that, you’re slightly disillusioned with vineyards. When you first arrived in Hastings and rode

past all the vineyards they looked magical to you, like they might be a place where you could find a

rabbit hole to a magical fantasy land. Now when you see a vineyard all you can think of is work.

At least the work wasn’t all for naught. You save up your pay checks until you have enough money to

travel around New Zealand and find new magical places. Where would you like to go first?

Go to Raglan.

Go to Coromandel.

You chose to do bud rubbing.

Everyone you’ve ever talked to who has done bud rubbing has said it’s the easiest job in Hastings



because all you have to do is walk down the rows of grapes in a vineyard and rip/kick the excess

branches and vines off of the grape plants. So when you’re given the opportunity to volunteer for bud

rubbing you take it without thinking about it.

Unfortunately, everyone you’ve ever spoken to about bud rubbing worked on vineyards with young

plants where the vineyard owners called in bud rubbing crews before the excess branches and vines got

out of control. You, on the other hand, end up working on thick, elderly vines that are long overdue to

be “rubbed.” So every plant has three or four massive offshoots that are too thick to pluck off with your

hands.

You spend the next two weeks giving yourself a back ache and end up quitting the day before the

vineyard is finished. Had you not quit you would have gone to another much easier vineyard next where

you wouldn’t have been so overwhelmed. You would have worked for several more months and made a

lot of money that you would have spent traveling around New Zealand with friends you’ll keep for a

lifetime. You would have even spent a month in Asia after leaving New Zealand.

As it stands you call your parents and beg them for money to get you out of Hastings, and you get it from

them even if you don’t get their respect. With what little money you made working and the money your

parents sent you now have enough to do a little traveling. Where would you like to go first?

Go to Queenstown.

Go to Invercargill.

Go to the Fjordlands National Park.

You chose to do weed pulling.

You’re not afraid of hard work. You’re just afraid of complicated work. So when you’re offered the



choice to do weed pulling you think to yourself, “How bad can it be? All I have to do is yank plants out of

the dirt.” You accept the weed pulling job and get instructions on when and where to show up the next

day.

At 7am the next day you show up at an apple orchard where the trees barely come up to your waist. The

farmer tells you that he hasn’t kept on top of the mowing, which has given giant weeds a chance to grow.

Now he can’t just mow them over because the stumps will grow their tops right back. That’s why you

have to go down each row and pull the big weeds out by hand.

You didn’t bring gloves with you, but the farmer sells you a pair for $5. You put them on and attack the

weeds with the fury of a Viking. Out of the eight or ten other backpackers pulling weeds you’re the

fastest by far. You finish weeding an entire row before anyone else is even halfway done. You

congratulate yourself for your victory until about lunch time when you tear a back muscle.

You limp through the rest of the day while everyone else soldiers on. The people you passed pass you,

and by the end of the day the do twice as many rows as you, and they’re still walking tall when they

leave whereas you hobble away in agony.

The next day you drag yourself to the medical centre that (thankfully) shares a parking lot with The

Rotten Apple. You fill out some paperwork and see a doctor. You tell him you got injured on the job, and

he gives you some ACC forms to fill out. The paperwork you fill out gets the cost of your doctor visit

drastically reduced, and the doctor tells you that if your injury keeps you out of work for over a week

then your employer will have to pay you until you get better.

Your injury isn’t that bad though. You’ll be back to work within the week, but you sure would like free

money…especially if all the prescriptions for pain killers and anti-inflammatories the doctor gave you are

going to cost a lot of money.



going to cost a lot of money.

Fortunately, New Zealand medicine is subsidized by the government. So you hobble out of the medical

centre with a giant back full of pills that you only paid about $15 for. You spend the next four days

zonked out on pills watching daytime television and getting taunted by Jason for being lazy.

Eventually you get your “lazy” ass back to work. By that time the weeding job is finished. So you get

work in an orchard. You soldier on with everyone else for the next few months without incident and

redeem yourself in your own mind. Your hard work is rewarded with good money, and by the end of the

season you have enough saved to leave Hastings in search of new adventures and new hardships toovercome. Where will you go next?

Go to Queenstown.

Go to Invercargill.

Go to the Fjordlands National Park.

You chose to pick cherries.

You really, really love cherries. You don’t understand why everyone doesn’t eat cherries at every meal.



So you salivate at the idea of being able to work in a cherry orchard and eat fresh cherries off the trees

all day. You show up at the orchard bright and early the next morning with a couple other backpackers

from the hostel. The farmer gives you detailed instructions on how cherry picking works. He

demonstrates by strapping a fruit bucket to his chest and then climbing up an aluminium ladder. He

picks off the ripe, red cherries and leaves the little, white ones. When his bucket is half full he climbs

down the ladder and walks over to a big plastic bin lying on the ground. He kneels over and unhooks two

strings on either side of his bucket. This makes the bottom of the bucket fall open, and the cherries

come tumbling out into the bin.

The job is simple enough, and the farmer is really friendly. The weather is nice, and you can’t wait to

gorge yourself on cherries. So you grab your harness and ladder and get up into the trees. The farmer

compliments your enthusiasm.You feel a little bad about stealing the farmer’s cherries, especially since

he’s such a nice guy, but your love of cherries is stronger than your loyalty to your employer.

Unfortunately, the pesticides that had been sprayed on the cherries are stronger than your immune

system. You would have been okay if you only ate a few pesticide-covered cherries, but you ate enough

cherries to give you diarrhoea even without the added chemicals. Plus, you have a rare allergy to thepesticides. So you end up leaving the orchard in an ambulance and spending the next three days in a

coma. When you get out of the hospital you decide to take the money you’ve already made and get out

of Hastings. Where will you go?

Go to Waiheke Island.

Go to Kaikora.

Go to Australia.

You chose to pick pears.

You could care less what work you’re doing as long as you’re making money. So for no reason in

i l ll J i k H l k h ’ll b idi i h d



particular you tell Jason you want to pick pears. He lets you know who you’ll be riding with, and you

meet your new work mates the next morning in the kitchen while making your morning tea. You chit

chat about nothing in particular really not even listening to what each other are saying but just talking to

talk.

When the clock strikes 7:30 you and your mates file out the door and get in a car just like you ’ve done

every weekday for most of your life. You zone out in the back seat of the car, lulled to a waking-sleep by

the monotony of your routine. Unfortunately your driver is zoned out as well and runs a stop sign. You

don’t even notice when an 18 wheel truck carrying a bed full of tree trunks slams into the side your tinycar crushing it like tinfoil and killing everyone inside instantly.

After you die there’s nothing left of your identity to call a soul. There’s nothing to suffer, regret or enjoy.

There’s simply nothing… just like there was nothing before you were born. There’s no time to measure

how long you are nothing and nowhere, but at some point, despite all probability you open your eyes

again, take a breath and cry.

A doctor cuts your placenta, wraps you in a blanket and hands you to your mother. From that day

forward you re-live your life exactly as it happened the last time. The only difference is when Jason asks

you where you want to work he doesn’t offer you the option to pick pears. Where will you work this

time?

Pick cherries.


You chose to work at the carnival.

Hell yeah you want to work at a carnival. It doesn’t involve hard manual labour, and it’s just th e kind of

i k i t N Z l d t i



quirky experience you came to New Zealand to experience.

You get directions to the fair grounds and show up there the next morning. A large Kiwi man wearing a

rugby jersey, stubbies and gum boots shows you around the carnival grounds and assigns you to a game

where contestants shoot a water pistol at a target, and when they hit the target it makes a little

mechanical horse run across a stage. Whoever’s horse reaches the finish line first wins gets a cheap,

toxic toy that was made in a sweat shop somewhere in the bowels of Asia.

You love your job. You hate most of your customers, but in some ways that makes your job more funand interesting. You taunt children in ways they’re too young to understand and stare at the

exhibitionists who are old enough to be stared at.

One day you get caught staring at an attractive cougar. Fortunately she was Italian, and Italian women

take staring as flirting. You have a four day romance in a hotel, which ends with you finding an envelope

on the bed. Inside the envelope is $6000 cash and a note that says, “Too Wong Foo. Thanks for

everything.”

You take a long shower in the hotel bathroom and decide it’s about time you did some traveling. Where

will you go next?


Go to Kaikora.

Go to Australia.

You chose to work at the wine label factory.

You’re curious to find out what a wine factory looks like. In your head you imagine it to be sort of like the

Crayon factory from Sesame Street It turns out to be a bit different The job is boring and monotonous

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSFCvG6curE



https://www.google.co.nz/search?q=gumboots&sa=X&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&ei=QsCjUeedFsWyiAf78YHwDw&ved=0CEQQsAQ&biw=1600&bih=813





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMU-wXsgyR8





Crayon factory from Sesame Street. It turns out to be a bit different. The job is boring and monotonous

as all hell. Wine bottles come down a conveyor belt and you put a label on the bottle. That’s all you do

all day, and you get paid minimum wage for it.

The thing you enjoy most about your job is getting to hang out with the other workers on smokos.

They’re an unlikely mix of nationalities and temperaments. There are a couple of South African surfers,

an Irish welder, a pair of German law students and a few locals with prison tats who roll their own

cigarettes.

You learn something you never knew from each of them, and you try to leave them with some good

stories and words of wisdom that they can carry with them for the rest of their lives. At least, you hope

you make a good enough impression that they remember you. Suddenly you feel very vain for sitting

around hoping other people sit around thinking about you for the rest of their lives. But come on.

Everyone does that. Don’t they?

Eventually the factory processes all its grapes and the bottles stop coming. Down the conveyor belt. So

you say your goodbyes to your workmates and close that chapter in your lives. Where will the next

chapter in your life open?


Go to Kaikora.

Go to Australia.

You chose to work at the canned fruit factory.

You figure if you drop a bottle of wine at work you could get charged for it, but if you drop a can of fruit

you can just put it back and act like nothing happened So you pick the canned fruit factory and quickly



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smoko






you can just put it back and act like nothing happened. So you pick the canned fruit factory and quickly

realize that everyone you work with has pretty much the same work ethic as you. You realize that if you

get a haircut, stop slouching and work hard you could easily snag a low level management job. You’re

basically looking at free money on the table. All you have to do is take it.

You resolve yourself to the goal of becoming a manager, and you do everything you need to do to make

that happen, and low and behold it happens. Your Indian manager takes a liking to you as soon as you

start dressing and acting more professional. He gives you a raise and an easier job. When you finally

leave he gives you a glowing recommendation letter and his home phone number.

As you’re walking to your car in your pressed khaki pants, button up shirt and fake leather shoes you see

a van full of white guys with dreadlocks peel out of the parking lot in van going so fast the surf boards

strapped to the roof almost fall off. They speed off down the road pumping their fists out the windows

shouting something about life being great and catching waves.

You look down at your letter of recommendation you were planning on using to get another soulless

office job where you spend all day surfing the internet and telling poor people to work harder. You

realize that if you keep going down the path you’re on you’ll never peel out of a parking lot pumping

your fists in the air out of sheer exuberance for life. More likely you’ll end up listening to Enya on your

way home to relax you from a stressful day at the office. You shudder and get in your car. You sit there

for half an hour thinking about your life before driving off. Where will you go next?


Go to Kaikora.

Go to Australia.

You chose to become the manager of the Rotten Apple

Jason decides he’d rather spend his days playing golf than picking up after backpackers all day. So he

offers you the chance to become the manager Since your favourite part about Hastings is hanging out at



offers you the chance to become the manager. Since your favourite part about Hastings is hanging out at

the hostel and your least favourite part is manual labour you accept the job without hesitation.

You get your own private room and a minifridge. You also get to use the washing machine and drier for

free. The first few weeks are frustrating as you try to figure out how to check guests in and find them

work. The job is a roller coaster of long periods of downtime broken up by frantic hours of trying to give

everyone everything they want while everything that can go wrong does go wrong.

You find your rhythm and figure out more efficient ways to do things. You spend your downtime onwhatever hobby interests you most at that time. You try to avoid watching daytime television, and you

learn about a lot of really good TV shows from other countries that you’d never heard of. You also

expand your knowledge of world music 100 fold.

In fact, you learn an associate’s degree worth of world knowledge during the year you spend managing

The Rotten Apple. When you finally leave you get a glowing letter of recommendation saying you’re

responsible and competent enough to be a hotel manager, an events coordinator, a human resource

manager, and/or a janitor. You also save up a fair bit of money to travel with. Where will you go next?

Go to Dunedin.

Do the Tongariro Crossing.

Go to Blenheim.

You chose to be a waiter at a Turkish restaurant.

You like the idea of working inside and making tips. So you choose be a waiter. Unfortunately you learn

too late that Kiwis don’t tip. It’s not that they’re cheap. Like many cultures around the world they just



p y p y y j

don’t see the need to.

During your time waiting at the restaurant you eat heaps of good Turkish food and become good friends

with the owners. They regularly invite you to their house for dinner. You fall in love with most of their

culture, and by the time you finish working for them you’re almost an expert on Turkey. You make

sincere plans to visit Turkey one day, but life ends up getting in the way and it never happens.

Despite the fact that you don’t get any tips you still manage to save enough money to travel around New

Zealand. Where would you like to go first?

Go to Dunedin.

Do the Tongariro Crossing.

Go to Blenheim.

You chose to be the hostel kitchen cleaner.

You go to the reception area to ask Jason about the kitchen cleaner job. He’s not there. So you ring the

big yellow bell on the wall opposite the reception window, and a minute later Jason shows up. He tells



g y pp p p

you that the kitchen cleaner gets their rent reduced to $50 per week in exchange for cleaning the

kitchen and washing any leftover dishes every night at 9:30.

Working every night on top of your regular work seems a little daunting, but you won’t pass up cheap

rent. So you take the job before anyone else even knows it exists, and that night you lock the kitchen

door at 9:30 sharp and get to scrubbing.

Over the weeks you slowly lose a little faith in humanity because so many people leave dishes for you to

wash even though there are signs everywhere saying to wash your dishes, and you know that everybody

knows that you have to wash any dishes left in the kitchen.

You keep telling yourself that the cheap rent makes it all worthwhile, and you’re right. The money you

save adds up quickly, and by the time you leave The Rotten Apple you’ve saved enough money to do

some proper traveling. But you’re so used to not spending money that you decide to travel as cheaply as

possible. Where would you like to go first?

Go freedom camping.

Go D.O.C. hopping

You chose to be the hostel bathroom cleaner.

Jason walks by while you’re reading the advertisement for the new jobs. You ask him how much work

they involve, and he says that the kitchen has to be cleaned every night, but the bathrooms only need to



be cleaned three times a week. Nobody wants to clean toilets, but you want reduced rent, and if you

only have to clean them three times a week then so much the better.

You accept the job of bathroom cleaner, and Jason erases that part of the advertisement off of the chalk

board. Then he gives you a key ring with the keys to unlock the toilet paper dispensers and get into the

hallway closet where the trash bags and toilet paper are kept.

The job is not glamorous, but it’s not as bad as you expected, and it quickly becomes a part of your

routine that you do without even thinking about it. What you do notice though is all the money you’re

saving.

When the time finally comes for you to leave The Rotten Apple you write a new advertisement on the

kitchen chalk board and find a replacement that day. You train your replacement and hand over your key

ring. The next day you check out of The Rotten Apple and trade Jason your room key for your twenty

dollar deposit.

You leave the hostel with a heavy heart but hope for the future. Where will you go next?

Go to Coromandel.

Go freedom camping.

Go D.O.C. hopping

You chose to pull an “Into the Wild.”

You get it into your head that it would be a good idea to leave everything you own and all your money at

the hostel and go tramping with nothing but your wits to keep you alive. You hitch hike around New



Zealand successfully (but hungrily) for several months before you decide to go live in the mountains and

survive off of the land.

Unfortunately you wits are no match for Mother Nature, and you freeze to death on the side of a

mountain in the middle of nowhere. Several years later a Belgian couple finds your decomposed body,

and after the authorities do an autopsy your remains are sent back to your family.

Your soul floats through the universe for eternity. You travel through stars, planets and gas clouds

without feeling a thing. Then one “day” you pass by a black hole and feel yourself being tugged towards

it. You try to will yourself away, but the force drags you into the abyss. Your mind screams in terror as

you’re sucked into the unknown.

Your trip through the black hole is painless, and on the other side you find yourself floating over and

endless desert. There’s no sun, moon, stars our clouds in the sky. Just red sand and black sky. The only

thing you see is a wooden door frame with an old wooden door hinged to the frame. The door opens

silently, and you can see the desert on the other side. Hesitantly you pass through the open door, and

you instantly find yourself back in the flesh at The Rotten Apple talking to Jason about work. He tells you

the only job available is being a sorter at a pack house. Click the link below or scroll down to the next

page to continue your journey.


You chose to sort apples at the pack house.

You like the idea of working inside doing relatively light work. So you’re relieved to get offered work in a

pack house. Jason gives you the address of the pack house and the name of the supervisor, and the next



day you show up there at 7:30am. The supervisor shows you around the pack house and leaves you

standing at a conveyor belt.

All day long apples come down the conveyor belt, and you pick off the bruised and unripe apples. You

take the good apples and load them into pieces of cardboard that have been designed to hold apples.

Then you put the plates of apples into boxes, which are then sealed and loaded into shipping containers,

which are then sent to Asia and Europe.

The work isn’t exciting…at all, but you make up for it by having more fun in the evenings when you sit on

the back porch of the hostel talking and laughing with the other backpackers. You share stories about

where you’ve all been, and you inspire each other to visit the places other people have been.

Eventually the apple picking season ends, and a few weeks after that the pack house runs out of apples.

You collect your last pay check and a complimentary box of apples from your supervisor and head back

to the hostel to figure out where you’re going to go next. Where will that be?

Go hitchhiking.

Stay at a hippie commune.

Go WOOFing.

You chose to do apple picking on a group contract.

You know you can put in a full day’s work, but you’re not sure about everyone else. You don’t want to

lose money by working on a group contract with a bunch of slow people who you’re just going to have to



carry, but at the same time you know you’re going to have bad days yourself and it would be nice if

everyone else could carry you on those days. After some internal debate you decide to hedge your bets

and work on a group contract.

Your bet turns out to be a good one. Nobody on your team is lazy, and the fact that you’re all working

together motivates you to motivate each other and push yourselves when you’re faltering. After a few

weeks of apple picking everyone is in the groove, and one day your supervisor congratulates your team

for beating his own old team’s record for most bins picked in a day.

Your team doesn’t get filthy rich, but you make enough money to fund a well-deserved vacation and

have a little money left over when you finally get back home. What will you do after you leave The

Rotten Apple.

Go hitchhiking.


Go WOOFing.

You chose to do apple picking on a solo contract.

You don’t like the idea of sharing the money you earn picking apples with anyone else. Granted, if you’re

slower than the other person or people then you’ll get free money from their hard work. But that’s too



much like stealing from other hardworking people to you. So you decide to work on a solo contract.

Every morning you arrive at the orchard and throw yourself into your work as if each apple you pick was

made of gold. Of course, they’re not, but sometimes towards the end of the work day they feel like they

weigh as much as gold. That doesn’t slow you down though. You work hard, and earn good money…not

as much as you want but enough to fund your next adventure. During the weeks you spend all alone in

the orchard you think about everything that’s ever happened to you. You find yourself wondering what

it’s all leading up to. Sure, you’re going to go home eventually and a get a job and a lover and maybesome kids. You’ll get a retirement plan and a mortgage. But what’s all that leading up to? Where’s it all

going, and why do we have to work so hard and jump through so many hoops to get there, and is it even

worth it? If not, what’s the alternative? Is it even realistic to drop out of the game? You can’t live

without money, and you can’t really escape anyway because everywhere you go you just end up living in

a house or an apartment going to and from work every day.

You spend a full day in the orchard seriously planning on starting a Fight Club where you and other

angsty suburbanites can take out your existential dilemmas on each other. By the end of the day you

come to your sense and realize that, while Fight Club was a good book/movie, actually starting a real life

Fight Club is a horrible idea on so many levels. You decide to just go traveling instead. Where will you go

next?

Go hitchhiking.


Go WOOFing.

You chose to go to Raglan.

You spend several months working in Hawkes Bay. You make a lot of friends from a lot of places who

teach you a lot of things about a lot of things. Of all the conversations you have with the other world

ll h h l f h h f d h l

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SUXWAEX2jlg






travellers the ones who always fascinate you the most are the vagrant surfers. You spend nights lapping

up their stories of surfing exotic tides and living in vans with several other people. It’s not long before

you decide you’re going to spend the rest of your vacation in New Zealand surfing.

You ask around the hostel if New Zealand has any cool surf towns, and everyone automatically says,

“Raglan.” So when it’s finally time to quit your job and check out of the hostel you catch a bus to straight

to Raglan carrying nothing but a backpack and a pocket full of cash.

You check into a hip eco-campground where you can work part time for free rent and devote the rest of

your time to learning how to surf and bonding with other surfers. It’s everything you hoped for. You

meet white people from all over the globe with dreadlocks, and no matter what language they speak

they all say, “Bro.” And they’re all hedonists . They don’t all have herpes, but…you get it from one of

them. The End.

You chose to go to Queenstown.

You spend several months in Hastings working and playing. As much as you enjoy partying at The Rotten

Apple with the international crowd of backpackers your one complaint is that there aren’t any big night

l b d E th i N i d H l k N th d ’t ti f tit f th ild lif

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raglan,_New_Zealand






clubs around. Even the venues in Napier and Havelock North don’t satisfy your appetite for the wild life.

So you ask everyone who has travelled around New Zealand where you can find what you’re looking for.

Most people recommend Wellington, but Queenstown perks your interest more.

Even though Queenstown is smaller and more isolated than Wellington it’s one of the most popular

tourist destinations in New Zealand. Some people complain that it’s over-commercialized, but you figure

the only reason it’s commercialized is because everyone wants to go there.

When the summer ends you take a plane from Napier to Queenstown and check into a working

backpacker hostel and promptly get a job working the lifts at a ski resort. You spend the winter days

standing in the snow flirting with rich tourists, and you spend the winter nights at the clubs flirting with

the same rich tourists you saw on the slopes.

You spend your money as fast as you earn it, but you tell yourself reasons not to worry about it. By the

end of the season you don’t have any money left to continue traveling with. So you change your plane

ticket and leave New Zealand two months before your visas runs out.

With a heavy heart you post a status update on Facebook saying that you’re leaving New Zealand, but

thirty minutes later one of the tourists you’d flirted with earlier in the season messages you and invites

you to come to the French Alps with them and they’ll pay for everything. So you change your ticket again

and keep chasing the dream. The End.

You chose to go to Invercargill.

You came to New Zealand to get away from the world, and one of your favourite things about working in

the orchards and vineyards of Hawkes Bay is that when you’re in those fields you feel a million miles

away from all the world’s problems It feels like if there was an apocalypse you’d be the last to know

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wellington



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queenstown,_New_Zealand







away from all the world’s problems. It feels like if there was an apocalypse you’d be the last to know.

While you enjoy visiting with the other guests at The Rotten Apple and learning their stories and insights

into life you always feel this tug in your heart pulling you farther away from society. So once you’ve

finally saved enough money to live without working for a few months you buy a motorcycle off of

TradeMe and drive south to Wellington. There you drive your motorcycle onto a ferry that takes you to

the North tip of the South island. You drive your motorcycle off the ferry and head South until you run

out of road.

Your journey takes you to Invercargill, and it’s everything you’d hoped for. The only thing South of

Invercargill is Stewart Island (a bird sanctuary) and Antarctica. To the North West is the sparsely

populated Fjordland National Park, and if you cross the Catlins and drive up the East coast you’ll hit a

few sizable towns eventually, but they’re only slightly less isolated than Invercargill.

Cold, arctic wind keeps most people off the streets, which makes the town feel more empty than it is,

and the overcast sky casts a shadow of dejection over everything. You enhance the experience by setting

your Ipod to repeat and walking laps around town listening to “The Streets of Philadelphia.”

Your mind slips into a melancholy fantasy world, and you spend your nights sitting up drinking gin,

smoking cigarettes and writing a semi-autobiographical book that captures your generation’s existential

dilemma. You get it published before you even leave New Zealand, and the book immediately picks up a

cult following that snowballs into mainstream acceptance.

Eventually you earn enough money to move back to Invercargill with a permanent resident’s visa. You

try to create another masterpiece, but you all you manage to create is cirrhosis of the liver. The End.

You chose to go to the Fjorland National Park

The thing you enjoy most about staying at The Rotten Apple is spending your evenings sitting on the

back porch visiting with the other travellers and swapping stories. You make it a point to ask questions

about New Zealand so you can plan the best vacation possible before your visa runs out and you have to

http://www.trademe.co.nz/





http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invercargill


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stewart_Island


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiordland



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Catlins



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4z2DtNW79sQ












about New Zealand so you can plan the best vacation possible before your visa runs out and you have toleave the country. Most of the people you speak to say the most beautiful part of New Zealand is

Fjordland National Park. So you decide that’s going to be your first (and longest stop).

You save up a couple thousand dollars and buy an old station wagon that has had the back seats taken

out and a bed installed in the back. You check out of The Rotten Apple the day after buying the car and

drive down to Wellington where you put the car on a ferry and cross the ocean to the South Island. You

unload your car in Picton and drive East through Nelson to the Abel Tasman Peninsula. After a short stopin the Abel Tasman you press on down the East coast.

You enter the Fjordlands and find a free campsite near a river that’s too cold to swim in. You set up

camp and get ready to go exploring, but you realize you don’t have to go any further to enjoy majestic

scenery. So you cook a pot of beans on your camp stove and kick back on a fold-out chair with a beer

and a spoon.

The next day you get up early to enjoy the sunrise before tackling your first big hike. You spend the next

two weeks hiking through the mountains and enjoying being completely cut off from all the chaos and

problems in the world. The best and worst thing about the Fjordlands is the mountain parrots. They’re

awesome, because they’re mountain parrots, but they have gigantic beaks that can rip the windshield

wipers off of a car. You wake up every morning to find them destroying your camp site.

Eventually you leave the park and explore the rest of New Zealand, but in memory of your time in the

Fjordland you get a tattoo of a mountain parrot on your left shoulder. The End.

You chose to go to Waiheke Island.

Years before you ever came to New Zealand you promised yourself that before you died you’d live on an

island. That pledge wasn’t the only reason you came to New Zealand, but it settled the decision. While,

yes New Zealand is an island it’s big enough that it doesn’t feel like an island at least not in the way you



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Picton,_New_Zealand



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nelson,_New_Zealand



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abel_Tasman_National_Park



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kea










yes, New Zealand is an island it s big enough that it doesn t feel like an island…at least not in the way youhad in mind. You want to be on an island so small that it’s impossible to ever forget that you’re on a tiny

little island. Unfortunately, you don’t have the money or visas to stay somewhere like Hawaii, Fiji, Tonga

or Samoa.

You know that New Zealand has hundreds, if not thousands of smaller islands off its coast. So you ask

the locals you work with which of the smaller islands is the best to live on. They inform you that most of

the smaller islands are nature preserves, and you can’t even go hiking or camping on them, but WaihekeIsland, off the coast of Auckland, is small enough to have the island vibe but big enough to fit vineyards

where you can work. It has lots of pristine beaches that homeless people don’t live on, an d the most

popular form of transportation is motor scooters.

You try to save $2,000 before moving to Waiheke Island, but you only manage to save $1,700 before you

get impatient and rationalize to yourself that $1,700 is close enough. You catch a bus to Auckland and

take the ferry to Waiheke Island. There you check into a hostel on a hill with hammocks strung between

palm trees in the back yard. You network with the other backpackers and end up working as a dish

washer in a beachfront café instead of working in the vineyards.

The work is exhausting, but you get to meet lots of rich locals and foreign travellers. The work is

exhausting, and you get to thinking that the perfect island fantasy would be more relaxing. So you save

more money for the next two months and buy enough airplane and ferry tickets to get you to Stewart

Island. You spend the next month watching sunrises, birds and sunsets.

The day finally comes when you have to leave New Zealand, and you fly back to your home country in a

sentimental daze. A month later, and for the rest of your life you work at a box factory. The End.

You chose to go to Kaikoura.

The whole time you’re working Hastings you dream of sandy beaches. You take as many excursions to

the beaches of Hawkes Bay, but you don’t want to just visit the beach. You want to live in a

quintessential beach town where the ocean is always a three minute walk away So during your many

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waiheke_Island








quintessential beach town where the ocean is always a three minute walk away. So during your manytrips to the beaches you ask all the surfers and locals what the best beach towns in New Zealand are.

The big three that perk your interest end up being Raglan, Kaikoura and Piha. But you decide Piha is to

small, and Raglan isn’t remote enough. So you settle on Kaikoura.

You set a goal to save $2,000 and then move to Kaikoura. Once you meet that goal you check out of The

Rotten Apple and catch a plane from Napier to Christchurch. From there you hitch hike the rest of the

way to Kaikoura. You catch a ride with two Hawaiian surfers and listen to Hawaiian music all the way toKaikoura.

After swapping music on your laptops via external hard drives they drop you off on the main street of

Kaikoura, and it’s everything you’d hoped for. The quaint little beach town is crammed between the

ocean and a wall of hills so big they might technically be mountains. The bulk of the town is along one

road that runs along the beach. There’s a small suburb behind that, and if you take the main road out of

town it leads to a string of fishing spots and fresh seafood kitchen buses before coming to a dead end at

a seal colony.

You rent a room in an old cat lady’s house, and you find a job at a capsicum farm. You spend the res t of

the summer laying on the beach meditating about how damned great your life is…and how much your

back hurts from picking capsicums.

A week before you have to be out of the country you travel back up to Hastings and stay there for a few

days to see which of your mates are still around and enjoy the new vibe for a few days. Then, with a tearin your eye you fly away. Your life never brings you back to New Zealand, but you carry a part of it with

you the rest of your days. The End.

You chose to go to Australia.

As famous as Australia is you never had much of a desire to go there. It’s hot, and there’s a million ways

to die there. Surprisingly though, the longer you spend in New Zealand the more you want to go to

Australia. The reason why is because half the back packers at The Rotten Apple spent the past year doing




http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaikoura



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piha








Australia. The reason why is because half the back packers at The Rotten Apple spent the past year doingseasonal work in Australia, and even though they have a few horror stories they all fell in love with the

country…and the pay checks.

So you get on the internet and apply for a working holiday visa in Australia and wait for it be approved.

Finally, one day you come back from work and check the new mail pile in front of reception and find a

letter with your approved working holiday visa enclosed.

You book your flight and check out of the hostel on the appointed day. By the time the sun sets you’re

walking the streets of Sydney looking for a backpacker hostel. You finally found one that looks dirty

enough to be fun but not dirty enough to be dangerous. You spend the evening drinking with other

travellers and quizzing everyone on work opportunities in the outback.

You’re all ready to buy a car and drive to Red Rock when you meet a Danish punk rocker who is working

in a concrete factory in Sydney. The next day when he gets back from work he brings you an application.

You fill it out, and bring it to the factory the next day. The after that you start work. On your second dayon the job a large piece of concrete falls on your foot, and an ambulance has to take you to the hospital.

You spend the next week in the hospital metaphorically kicking yourself for ever coming to Australia, but

your mood changes when you find out that your boss has to pay you full wages until a doctor says you’re

fit to work again.

You spend the next week partying in Sydney and using your foot cast to elicit sympathy from members

of the opposite sex. The rest of your year in Australia gets even weirder than that, but that’s another

story. The End.

You chose to go to Dunedin.

You work a couple more months, and in that time you do pretty much every seasonal fruit-related job

Hawkes Bay has to offer. You’re careful with your money and save enough to take a long vacation if you

travel frugally. You rationalize to yourself that you need to do at least one extravagant thing while you’re

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Rock,_New_South_Wales



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sydney







g y y y g g yin New Zealand. The obvious choice would be to go sky diving or bungee jump ing, but you’re afraid of

heights, and those adventures only last for a couple of minutes. You want to invest your money into an

adventure that lasts. After much deliberation you decide to take a bus from Hastings to Palmerston

North. From there you take the train to Wellington. Then you take the ferry to the South island and

catch another train the rest of the way to Dunedin.

The journey is one you’ll never forget. You fill up two memory cards with digital photos of the passingscenery. An old Bulgarian couple on the train see you taking pictures, and they offer to take one of you.

After that you end up talking about photography and traveling for the rest of the ride. They give you

their contact information and make you promise to come visit them if you’re ever in Bulgaria. You

promise, but inside you know you’re never going to Bulgaria.

You get to Dunedin and walk from the majestic train station to camp site twenty minutes away. When

you check in you ask the receptionist where the party is as in Dunedin, and she says, “The Octagon.” To

your dismay “The Octagon” is just the town centre, not a cage fighting arena. But you make the best of it

anyway. You spend the next week partying with university students.

Things are going great until New Year’s when you and your new mates set a couch on fire in the middle

of the road and then try to ride a shopping cart down the world’s steepest road. You succeeded at

burning the couch but failed to ride the shopping cart all the way down the hill. You and your mates did

get to ride an ambulance all the way to the hospital though. After paying your hospital bill you change

your plane ticket and hobble to the airport to catch a plane back to your very disappointed parents.

The End.

You chose to do the Tongariro Crossing.

During your stay at the Rotten Apple you develop a close bond with a group of happy-go-lucky, rich

German girls. You’re surprised at how hard they work since they’re obviously used to the finer things in

life, but they do a good enough job that the farmer you work for begs them not to leave.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palmerston_North



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunedin



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Octagon,_Dunedin


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baldwin_Street









y g g j y g

Since you’ve become a part of their inner circle it goes without saying that you’ll go traveling with them

before they leave the country. You’ll just stay with them until they catch their plane in Auckland, and

then you’ll take the bus back to Hastings and work a few more months.

The day you leave the hostel you politely strip the sheets off your bed and leave them by reception.

Then you and the girls say your tearful goodbyes to everyone and pack up the fully equipped camper van

one of the girl’s parents bought her.

The first destination on your meticulously mapped out adventure is the Tongariro Crossing. As

melancholy as your departure is the drive is full of excitement and singing. That mood changes when you

arrive at the crossing and find out that it’s closed due to volcanic activity.

You check into the nicest hostel you can find and spend the next few days sipping wine in a park

watching the massive plumes of smoke billowing out of the top of the mountain. When you get bored ofthat you pack the van back up and head north to the Coromandel Peninsula and then up past Auckland

to the Whangerei Peninsula. You drive straight up through the North Land to Ninety Mile Beach, then

back down the West coast to Piha.

Along the way you and your mates share your deepest secrets and create a lifelong bond. At Piha you

make a pact to get back together somewhere new for a reunion party every five years.

You chose to go to Blenheim.

You have one of the best summers of your life working in Hastings and staying at the Rotten Apple, and

most of your mates plan on staying there as long as possible, but you want to see more of New Zealand.

Even if the next place you go doesn’t turn out to be as cool as the place you’re at now, at least an

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tongariro_Crossing


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coromandel_Peninsula



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auckland



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whangarei_District



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ninety_Mile_Beach,_New_Zealand














adventure will come out of your misfortune, and it will make your memories of the good times that

much rosier. So you find out when the grape pruning season starts in Blenheim and give Jason advanced

notice of when you’re checking out of The Rotten Apple.

On the appointed day you catch a bus to Wellington, take the ferry to the South island and catch another

bus from Picton to Blenheim. You check into another backpacker hostel that caters to season workers,

and after paying a week’s rent up front the receptionist hands you the key to your room and a vineyard job.

Bright and early the next morning you pile into a dirty, old SUV with another international crowd of

backpackers and head to the vineyards. All day long you think about the times you had over the past

summer, and you miss your mates. You start wondering if you made the right decision to leave

everything you had in Hastings. You think that way for about a week, but you quickly make new friends

and get into a new groove.

You end up sharing a room at the hostel with a Croatian guy who has spent the last 7 years traveling all

over the world doing odd jobs to survive. He’s wanderlust inspires you and makes you crave new sights

and new experiences. You’d planned on staying in Blenheim for the whole season, but the Croatian

decides to hitch hike to Fjordland National Park, and you practically invite yourself along with him.

You spend the next four months tramping around New Zealand getting into absurd situations. When

your visa runs out you pack your bags and head back home…but not for long. The End.

You chose to go to Coromandel.

You end up spending 8 months working in Hastings. You quit work in the middle of the season to give

yourself some time to travel and spend all the money you made. You want to see every region of New

Zealand, and you want to experience everything the country has to offer, but first you want to spend alid k ith itti th b h itti i h t i S d h th i t t

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blenheim,_New_Zealand






http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiordland_National_Park








solid week either sitting on the beach or sitting in a hot spring. So you do some research on the internet

and talk to some other backpackers who have already been traveling around New Zealand. You quickly

learn about a place called Hot Water Beach in the Coromandel peninsula there’s a beach with a natural

hot spring bubbling out of the sand, and if you take a shovel with you then you can dig your own private

hot tub on the beach and relax there until the tide comes in.

Since Hot Water Beach has everything you’re looking for you book a bus ticket and tell Jason you’rechecking out tomorrow. You take the bus to Coromandel and then hitch hike to the closest camp ground

to Hot Water Beach.

An elderly Maori lady picks you up in a big, dirty red flat-bed truck with a black Labrador sprawled out in

the bed. She takes you the rest of the way to the campground and asks you about your country and all

the relationships you’ve ever had. She’s wearing a jade necklace shaped like a fish hook with Maori

patterns carved in it. You mention how cool it is, and she pulls it off over her head and hands it to you.

You tell her you couldn’t possibly accept it, but she insists until you bashfully take the necklace from her.

Five awkward minutes later she drops you off at the camp ground, and speeds away. You check into the

camp ground and change into your togs (that’s what Kiwis call bathing suits) and skip off gleefully to the

beach wearing your awesome new necklace and carrying a shovel.

You realize digging a man-sized hole in wet sand is a lot of work, which is not what you came here for,

but you’re determined to spend the day in a sandy hot tub. So you put your back into it and make yourdream come true. Then you travel around New Zealand a bunch and eventually go home. You never take

your necklace off for years until you finally lose it in a bar fight in Rio de Janeiro. The End.

You chose to go freedom camping.

The picking season ends, and there’s a few weeks break befor e the pruning season starts. You have

enough money saved up to sit around the hostel waiting for more work, but a lot of other backpackers

are checking out and heading back to their home countries. One of them has a camper van that they’vebeen trying to sell with no luck So they offer to sell it to you for a thousand dollars less than it’s worth

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_Water_Beach










been trying to sell with no luck. So they offer to sell it to you for a thousand dollars less than it’s worth.

The back seats of the van have been removed and a bed installed in their place. Underneath the bed is a

cache of camping and fishing equipment. You greedily accept their offer and run to the ATM to withdraw

some money.

You take your camper van and head off into the wild blue yonder. You spend the next few months

traveling around the country sleeping in your van everywhere you go. You tend to stay close to theocean so you can fish for your dinner (and sometimes breakfast). You hike half the trails in New Zealand

and use some of the money you’re saving on accommodation to go bungee jumping and sky diving.

One day you get pulled over the police for running a stop sign, and when the cop checks your papers he

sees that your visa ran out a month and a half ago. A few days later you’re deported from the country,

but you don’t care, because you go home with a hell of a story to tell. The End.

You chose to go D.O.C. hopping.

During your stay at The Rotten Apple you earn nearly $10,000. Unfortunately, you spend most of that

partying. So when you only have two months left on your work visa you decide you need to get out of

Hastings and see the rest of New Zealand no matter what.



You do some internet searches for free or cheap places to stay even though you don’t expect to find

much. To your surprise you learn that the New Zealand Department of Conservation has camp sites all

over the country that are either free or very cheap. You figure with the money you’re going to save

camping at D.O.C. sites you can afford to buy a GPS system for your car, which turns out to be the best

idea you’ve had since you decided to stay at The Rotten Apple since most of the D.O.C. camps are in the

middle of nowhere, and there aren’t many (if any) signs leading to them.

You spend the next two months driving through the mountains and making short stops in small towns to

stock up on provisions for your next expedition into the countryside. You meet more mosquitos than

humans on your trip, and while you mind the mosquitos you don’t mind the lack of company. You use

the time alone to sort out your plans for the next phase of your life.

When your time in New Zealand is over you sell your car on TradeMe and spend a week in Auckland. The

day of your flight you take a shuttle to the airport and board your plane with a tear in your eye. Youdon’t go home yet though. With the money you made from selling your car you spend a week in Samoa

sleeping in a cottage on the beach and drinking Vailima. The End.

You chose to go hitchhiking.

You find a copy of “On the Road” by Jack Kerouac in the quiet room at the hostel and read it cover to

cover several times. It fills your head with romantic ideas about traveling with no money and no

direction. So when the work runs out in Hawkes Bay you take a cardboard beer box out of the recycle binand make a hitch hiking sign and go stand on the street corner with your thumb out

http://www.doc.govt.nz/parks-and-recreation/places-to-stay/conservation-campsite-information/






http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samoa



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2Aoo-gs_-M







http://www.amazon.com/On-Road-Original-Penguin-Classics/dp/0143105469/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1368581224&sr=8-1&keywords=jack+kerouac





and make a hitch hiking sign and go stand on the street corner with your thumb out.

Within the hour an elderly couple picks you up and say they’re headed to Palmerston North. You figure

it’s as good as any destination. You were wrong. After walking around Palmy (as the Kiwis call it) you

realize there’s nothing to do there. So you get your cardboard sign out and try to flag down another ride

to anywhere else.

You get picked up by a young Aussie couple traveling around New Zealand, and you spend the next two

weeks riding around the North Island freedom camping with them. You part ways in Wellington, and you

take the ferry down to the South Island. You hitch a ride from Picton to Nelson and end up falling in love

with the bustling beach town. You stay there for a few weeks before hitch hiking all the way down to

Invercargill and back up to Blenheim where you work in the vineyards there until you save up enough

money to stay “on the road.”

Your adventures take you to Australia, Thailand, India and Africa. When you’re finally too road weary togo on you fly back home and spend the next four months writing your memoirs…which nobody reads.

The End.

You chose to join a hippie commune.

You wake up one morning and think to yourself , “Why am I working for capitalist pigs on corporate

farms when I could be working on organic farms with people who love the earth and dreadlocks?” So




http://www.doc.govt.nz/parks-and-recreation/places-to-stay/freedom-camping/























you go to the farmer’s market and walk around and ask everyone who is dressed like it’s 1973 where you

can find an organic hippie farm where you’re not allowed to drink, smoke tobacco or eat meat. Finally

you find someone who gives you the secret coordinates of one of the many hippie communes littered

throughout New Zealand.

You put on a pair of sandals and all hemp clothing and then hitch hike to the commune. You’re

welcomed with open arms, and you spend the next few months working in an apple orchard, sharing

communal dinners and celebrating how much better you are than everybody else.

Eventually you go back home and get a job big corporation where you have to wear dress pants and

fancy shoes to work every day. You spend the next few decades in a cubicle making money by making

someone else’s life harder all the while celebrating how much better you are than everyone else. The

End.

You chose to go WWOOFing.

You liked working in the New Zealand countryside, but you’d like it even more if you didn’t have to work

so hard. So you ask around the hostel how to get a part time job in rural New Zealand. A couple of

people say you can look on TradeMe, but you already did and couldn’t really find what you were lookingfor. Then you meet a 19 year old Swedish girl who says, “Why not just do WWOOFing? They have a

http://www.hawkesbayfarmersmarket.co.nz/










y y g y , y j g y

vebsite you go to, and there you find different farmers who will let you live on their farm and work. You

don’t get paid, but you don’t pay rent, and they feed you. You only work for, I don’t know, maybe four or

five hours a day. I did this with my friend, Wiebke, and ya, it was good. Our host family was very nice.”

You go check out the site and are bummed that it costs $40 to join, but after reading a bunch of

testimonials you get excited enough to pay the fee. You make a profile and start E-mailing farmers in the

areas of New Zealand you’re interested in. You’re surprised how fast some of the people replied to you.

You politely decline all the offers from puritanical hippies and finally find an old guy with a Labrador who

sounds pretty cool.

After sending a few E-mails back you come to an agreement, and you take the next bus headed to the

nearest town to his farm. When you get off the bus he’s waiting at the bus station with an old, beat up

truck. You drive back to his place up in the hills, and he shows you to your room, which used to be his

daughter’s room before she died of diphtheria at the tender age of 9. Against the wall opposite your bed

is an old, wooden book shelf full of porcelain dolls with dark, hollow eyes that stare into your soul.

Other than that you have incredible stay at the old man’s house. You help him tend a small herd of

sheep and do gardening every day. You help him build an extension onto his back porch. Sometimes you

take his boat out onto the ocean and go fishing. Then you cook the fish for dinner. He becomes like a

father to you, and you become like the child he never had. You remember the time you spent on that

farm fondly for the rest of your life and hope nothing happened that you had to block out from yourmemory. The End.

You don’t understand the instructions.

Your illiteracy has cost you the adventure of a lifetime, and you’re going to keep missing out on

opportunities life presents you with as long as you have poor literacy and comprehension skills. So

maybe go take a night class or two…or maybe you should just try reading the instructions again. Wouldyou like to read the instructions again?

http://www.wwoof.co.nz/





Yes, you would like to read the instructions again.

No, you’re done with this.

You’re done with this.

If you’re done with this then why are you still here reading it? It doesn’t look like you’re done with this to

me. You know what I think? I think you understood the instructions just fine and you actually want to

read the story. You just wanted to click on the cheeky links to see what it says. So seriously, do you wantto read the story or not?



Yes, you want to read it.

No, you don’t want to read it.

You don’t want to read this book?

Well piss off then.

Are you going to piss off?

Yes, you are going to piss off.

http://wisesloth.wordpress.com/2013/04/09/dear-asshole/





, y g g p

No, you are not going to piss off ; you’re going to stay here and read the book the correct way.

You chose to return to life just before you went swimming.

Time rewinds itself back to when you were walking down the beach with the German girl. She looks at

the water and then looks at you playfully. Your intuition tells you that she wants to go for a swim, and

for a couple of reasons that’s a bad idea. You grab her by the wrist and pull her close to you and whisperin her ear, “The water’s cold, but my tent is warm.”






She puts her arms around your waist and pulls you close. You kiss under the stars, and time stands still

for a moment. You pull away from her and look into her big, beautiful blue eyes. Without saying a word

you pick her up in your arms and carry her most of the way back to your camp site.

The next morning a commotion outside your tent wakes you from a very contented sleep. You unzip the

entrance to see that everyone else is already packing up camp. You wake up the German girl and break

down your tent.

Your mind is in a daze the whole ride back to the hostel. When you get there Jason tries three times to

get your attention before he finally succeeds. He says he’s got more work lined up for you. What kind of

work would you like to do?

Pick apples.

Do grape thinning.

the rotten apple adventure

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