Beppe Karlsson

Since I've now been in Australia for over eight months, and still love this red continent to bits and pieces, I need to do 88 days of 'specified work in rural Australia' in order to extend my visa with another year. So far I am fifteen days into it, leaving me with 73 days to go in the bush.

To some people this might feel like the ultimate chore, especially while traveling. Who wants to go to small rural towns, and God forbid: the bush? For three months!

To other people it's hard to get the amount of days necessary for the second visa application to go through. That's because they can't see past their money-bags.

A much more sure thing if you want to get the number of days needed in a short time is WWOOFing, Willing Workers On Organic Farms. This of course means you don't get paid for your labour. However it has it's perks: you get food and accommodation in exchange for your blood, sweat and tears. Yes, I've given all: blood on fences, sweat while working, and tears from dust in my eyes (or so I'll have you believe). Another perk is the fact that you will not be told there is no work for you today as you're not getting paid anyways, they've got nothing to lose.

On top of that you actually get a taste of true and genuine country-life, as the family takes you into their home, and show you around the country side.

In my case that has meant two different farms to date, the second one far exceeding the first as far as I'm concerned. I get along well with my hosts Ken and Lisa. They run an organic herb farm, we've been busy at work, planting garlic all week. However, that's not interesting enough to be writing in a blog, so I'll just skip ahead to all the interesting stuff.

The farm is situated in the area known as the "Golden Triangle", the location for the Victoria Gold Rush in the mid 19th century. In the 1850's the closest gold-reef to this farm kept some four-thousand miners busy, digging holes in the ground, looking for a shiny yellow metal, precious amongst our kind for millenia.

Ken has a hobby. He has a metal-detector and a miner's right. Yes, we go looking for gold along the old diggings on our spare time. So far I've found a copper wire and a bunch of old cans and buckets. There is gold out there though, still, just the other week someone dug up a 46 ounce piece, worth some $70 000. I don't really hope to find a nugget of that calibre, but I wouldn't mind finding a small one, or at least some bullets and old coins.

I'm currently the resident of a caravan that I have all to myself, going over to the house to get my meals and social interaction. I like this place, I think I'll stay here for a while. Not the whole 73 days though, my hosts are going away in July. I'll find somewhere else by then.

For now all I need to think about is that I am counting down the days until I can apply for my second visa, so that I may stay another year in this country I have taken to my heart. Sadly, to all the people I've left behind, it means I won't be coming back anytime soon.

Beppe Karlsson, Bromley

Days, months and years pass on by. Like a quickening flow of sand through the hour glass. I'm going underground for a while.

I've had reason to reflect upon myself and my life in the last few weeks, some days waking up in the cold dark grasp of self-loathing, other days in the warm light of self-love. I seem to fuck up sometimes, even with the best of intentions. Life goes on.

The only solution is to leave and start over, build something new, and grow again.

The only conclusion is that life is as it should be, this is my path, lonely as it can be at times. I stay on it, while others are falling.

All in all I'm happy with the life I chose, though restless at times, and wicked at times, I embrace the experience.
How can you hold a grudge against someone when they've just been kind enough to teach you something. Sometimes the lesson hurts, sometimes the lesson is to hurt, sometimes there is no hurt. No matter what you do, you will walk out of it with a lesson learnt, an experience gained, it was meant to be. We're all just drifting around in the sea of life, bumping into each other, crossing paths and affecting one another. Sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, but there is no escaping the cause and effect; for every action there is a reaction.

The best thing you can do is to man up, stop complaining about your situation, stop telling everybody what you want to find and actually go out there and find it. You can't find fun, unless you go out there and find fun. Fun won't find you.

So I will bounce myself back up, and I will throw myself in the way of the other things floating around in this pond, just to see what happens. Because: no matter the outcome, I will have grown.

So the lonely nomad goes underground, away from his life for a day. I'll see ya on the other side of twenty-five.

Beppe Karlsson, Melbourne

When you live like the Devil, you gotta pay your dues in Hell.

I'm sure you've heard the words "the only constant is change", a true statement? If so, then how do you adapt to a life where change is not constant? In fact we all know change is not constant, it's exponential, hence the expression "when it rains, it pours". However, change is inevitable, making for conservative ideologies to be obsolete before they even began to explain a problem. How about we instead use the knowledge of old in a constructive way and evolve it, progress the thinking to match the world of today, and tomorrow.

To take this all down to my very own personal level: how does the traveller adapt when he realizes change is not constant? What will he do once he realizes he has had what one place can offer and nothing more can come of it, nothing new? Will he just uproot again like the junkie for change that he is? Then what if he has made the decision, but the change is too far out of his reach at the moment?

I've been in Melbourne for almost seven months now. It feels like an eternity, as well as just yesterday, since I arrived at the airport and gave my brother a warm loving embrace. I've gone through four different jobs in that time, I've made friends from all corners of the town, and the world. I've gained experience and skills. I've developed new ideas, changed my way of thinking and seeing the world. I've changed as a person, I've grown.

My original plan was to celebrate my quarter-century marker on the road, with Melbourne in my back. Well, I will leave Melbourne, but only for the day. I will drop off the face of the Earth, only for one day, but I will come back. I'm not finished here yet, I still need to sort a few things out.

This is where I am, and when you've already made up your mind, made peace with the fact that you're going to leave and explore new things again, bringing on a new wave of change, you find it hard to function within the old reality.

I now have less than a month to finish up here, farmwork awaits, and the normal mixed feelings about leaving resurface. As a result of my life as unemployed, not eating properly, I became weak. I then threw myself head first into hours of labor, all to re-inflate my economic bubble, allowing for more leaks before I rest my case and move on. Finding myself behind the bar with the constant buzzing of happy people and emotions (mixed with negative vibes and proper cunts) lead to my own awakening from the slumber, and I soon found myself going out and about on night-time adventures. In short it lead to excess, but since I practice Excess in Moderation I had to cut myself off. The only problem is that once you cut yourself off, your body begins to catch up, and sometimes it realizes you rather mistreated it: you become sick.

So here I am now, wrapped up in a blanket with a fever, waiting to go to work for the last time this week. Then begins my days of recovery. I wish it was tonight already. But when you live like the Devil, you gotta pay your dues in Hell.

Beppe Karlsson, Melbourne

I almost feel like a Fisherman, or a Fishmongerer, shoveling fish at the people. Salmon, tuna, shellfish and Shark. All drowned in a fresh layer of alcoholic beverages. - It's such a beautiful place to spend a Tuesday night. Love, laughter and life.

I'm being stupid, and needy enough of cash, that I am covering a shift at work for my buddy to go on a Valentines-date. I'll just find myself in the middle of one of the biggest rushes of the year, how exciting. I hope people's amorous feelings towards one another will result in a tipping war, in order to impress the lady you're taking out for this "romantic" occasion. - Yes baby, I've got cash. Girl, I'm so loaded with bills I'll explode if I don't give a big tip.

Yes, here it is, the good old "all-hearts' day" as we say back home. The most "romantic" day of the year. This is the chance to buy some stuff for your girl to impress her. Spend some money, make someone's pockets fatter, and maybe score tonight.

Me? I'm not a Valentines day-hater. I don't really give a fuck. It's a day like the others. It just has a theme. It doesn't really make it romantic, but if people want to do something special on this day, then by all means: go for it.

I've had to alter my plans slightly, if you want to be successful on the road you need to be flexible. You can have a list of things you want to see. But a trip that goes on for over a year can't be planned in detail. It's just such a long stretch of time, there are too many variables to take into consideration. The time and place I had in mind for farmwork has changed. Or at least slightly. For now I'll just focus on pouring drinks and serving food, while stuffing myself with the fruits of the sea, and enjoying a knock off beer.

I am now back to loving this life again. The beautiful rollercoaster of life.

Beppe Karlsson, Melbourne.

This is totally messing up my sleep pattern. Late nights, mixed in with morning shifts and hangovers is taking it's toll.

Yes, I am still alive, possibly going stronger than before. My fire is once more burning bright. I've realized that leaving that other job was the best thing I could do. Even when I only work 3-4 days a week I still earn more than I did working 6 days, about 10 hours a day at my last two jobs. Hell, 3 shifts at Richmond Oysters paid more in tips than one of the weeks at my last job.

One downside now is that my weekends are completely booked with two shifts each for both my jobs. Enjoying days off, scattered throughout the week. I'm not complaining though. I love pouring drinks, chatting shit with customers and having a few knock off drinks with the guys. However, being hungover behind the bar is not a desirable situation. The first few beers you pour almost makes you want to puke. But the pizza at the Boathouse is fucking delicious.

I've noticed I'm starting to play favorites for one of my jobs, the balance is definitiely tipping more in one way than the other.

I'm also getting mentally prepared for the next stage of my trip. I can feel that dear old wanderlust getting a hold of my soul again, pulling me, yanking me, urging me onwards. Soon it is time.

I will give the East coast some of my love, then stop up in Queensland for the mandatory farmwork, for the visa extension. I'm looking forward to a proper bogan experience. I'll sit and drink Bundaberg rum with the leathery tanned men and women, look them in the eye and note how their smiles bare the gaps of missing teeth. Maybe I'll even get my hands on a hat, Crocodile Dundee style.

One thing is for certain though, I've given Melbourne five months of my life by now. I've loved this experience, even though it's been rough love at times, but she only beats me 'cus she loves me, she said. However, I have this thing in my heart, my soul, this undescribable lust to keep moving. The nomad gene. I just can't help it, I have to keep on moving.

Catch you in a not too distant future, with some lovely updates and pictures from a hot and sunny Australia.

Beppe Karlsson