With travelling comes strange and amusing stories. This one, though slightly disgusting just highlights the amusement you can look back on, and in this case laugh at myself a couple of years down the line. Did I really shit myself in a broccoli field? Yes!
I ended up doing extensive broccoli farming for about 3 months, on 13 different farms in Tasmania!! It was an amazing experience and I would highly recommend it. Cutting broccoli for a living was fab.
So when you work in broccoli cutting a tractor follows you down never ending rows of the green vegetable and your job is to slice it, de-leaf it and throw it into the box. You're kind of stuck on each row doing your job, so you don't want to leave the row, even if you need to go to the toilet. You can carry water with you and drink it at the end of each row, where you can also have a quick piss while the tractor turns around. I admit this is a bit easier for a guy than a girl.
One day I was working on a massive farm in East Sassafras, in Northern Tasmania. There was a hill at the top of the paddock and once you go over the hill you are miles from the base (the place where you park your car, eat your lunch and they have a portable toilet there). Now I was an experienced broccoli cutter at this stage.
I remember the date - 18th March 2010 as the night before I had partied in the local pub Molly Malone's with Chaz Fitzsimmons a fellow Northern Irishman. It was St. Patrick's Night.
The morning ran smoothly however and from 7am to 1pm we worked before having a quick lunch. Just after lunch and we had got half way through a long row of broccoli when I realised I needed a shit - yes it was ready to come out. Our boss was Rebecca Gaby and she was alongside us that day so I shouted over to her that I needed to go. So off I went - initially running all the way towards the portable toilet before realising it was too far to go, so time had beaten me...
A few seconds after taking my trousers and boots off which wasn't easy I then had to use leaves from broccoli plants to clean myself. It wasn't enough so my underpants were used as toilet roll and then dumped behind a tree near the fence. It was then that my team and tractor appeared back at the top of the hill. They knew I had ran for a shit, but now they saw me with my trousers down, running desperately back to cut more broccoli.
Apart from that it was a good day in the field. Later on that night, I washed my clothes, shamelessly realising I couldn't tell the difference between shit and mud. Don't Stop Living!
I ended up doing extensive broccoli farming for about 3 months, on 13 different farms in Tasmania!! It was an amazing experience and I would highly recommend it. Cutting broccoli for a living was fab.
So when you work in broccoli cutting a tractor follows you down never ending rows of the green vegetable and your job is to slice it, de-leaf it and throw it into the box. You're kind of stuck on each row doing your job, so you don't want to leave the row, even if you need to go to the toilet. You can carry water with you and drink it at the end of each row, where you can also have a quick piss while the tractor turns around. I admit this is a bit easier for a guy than a girl.
One day I was working on a massive farm in East Sassafras, in Northern Tasmania. There was a hill at the top of the paddock and once you go over the hill you are miles from the base (the place where you park your car, eat your lunch and they have a portable toilet there). Now I was an experienced broccoli cutter at this stage.
I remember the date - 18th March 2010 as the night before I had partied in the local pub Molly Malone's with Chaz Fitzsimmons a fellow Northern Irishman. It was St. Patrick's Night.
The morning ran smoothly however and from 7am to 1pm we worked before having a quick lunch. Just after lunch and we had got half way through a long row of broccoli when I realised I needed a shit - yes it was ready to come out. Our boss was Rebecca Gaby and she was alongside us that day so I shouted over to her that I needed to go. So off I went - initially running all the way towards the portable toilet before realising it was too far to go, so time had beaten me...
A few seconds after taking my trousers and boots off which wasn't easy I then had to use leaves from broccoli plants to clean myself. It wasn't enough so my underpants were used as toilet roll and then dumped behind a tree near the fence. It was then that my team and tractor appeared back at the top of the hill. They knew I had ran for a shit, but now they saw me with my trousers down, running desperately back to cut more broccoli.
Apart from that it was a good day in the field. Later on that night, I washed my clothes, shamelessly realising I couldn't tell the difference between shit and mud. Don't Stop Living!
About the Author:
Looking to find out how to travel and work your way around the world, then visit Jonny Blair's coll travel, work and lifestyle website Don't Stop Living for amusing stories and great travel tips.