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!
A few years back I landed a job working on a number of broccoli farms in Tasmania, I was all over the place on unknown and remote farms and II genuinely had fun doing it!
If you've ever done processed or manual broccoli cutting you will know that a tractor follows you down the countless paddocks of broccoli, you just cut it as fast as you can and throw it into the crates on the tractor. The thing is, once you start a row, you have to go to the end. There is no respite - so basically carry water in your pocket and sip it at the end of each row, where you can also go to the toilet if you need. Admittedly this is much easier for guys.
On this particular day I was working out at East Sassafras in the north of Tasmania. It was a massive farm. While cutting we worked our way up a large hill, beyond which you disappeared into wilderness and were miles from your base (at your base you park your car, eat lunch and there's even a portable toilet). At this point I was an experienced broccoli cutter.
This story is taken from the 18th March 2010. I know that because the previous night was St. Patrick's Night and I was down the local Irish Pub Molly Malone's partying with Chaz Fitzsimmons, also a Northern Irishman living in Tasmania.
We got up and started work at 7am and everything was fine. After lunch though we had got about half way through one of the rows when mother nature was calling. I needed a poo. This was the first time I had been in this situation on a broccoli field. Rebecca Gaby our boss was a great lady and was luckily working alongside us that day - I shouted over at her "Rebecca I'm off - I need a poo!" and off I ran - I had thought about running all the way back to the actual portable toilet but it was miles away, so I had to just crouch down at the side of the paddock. Things had got out of control let's just say!
Everything came out at once in the broccoli paddock and my trousers, boots and pants had been left over to the side. I tried using leaves to clean my ass but it wasn't enough so I used my underpants to wipe it and dumped them behind a tree near a fence. At this point my team came back up and appeared at the top of the hill. Half naked, I quickly put my jeans and waterproofs back on and ran back to continue cutting the broccoli!
It was a decent day in the field apart from that incident. That night, I obviously washed all of my clothes, suddenly admitting that I couldn't tell the difference between mud and shit. Don't Stop Living!
A few years back I landed a job working on a number of broccoli farms in Tasmania, I was all over the place on unknown and remote farms and II genuinely had fun doing it!
If you've ever done processed or manual broccoli cutting you will know that a tractor follows you down the countless paddocks of broccoli, you just cut it as fast as you can and throw it into the crates on the tractor. The thing is, once you start a row, you have to go to the end. There is no respite - so basically carry water in your pocket and sip it at the end of each row, where you can also go to the toilet if you need. Admittedly this is much easier for guys.
On this particular day I was working out at East Sassafras in the north of Tasmania. It was a massive farm. While cutting we worked our way up a large hill, beyond which you disappeared into wilderness and were miles from your base (at your base you park your car, eat lunch and there's even a portable toilet). At this point I was an experienced broccoli cutter.
This story is taken from the 18th March 2010. I know that because the previous night was St. Patrick's Night and I was down the local Irish Pub Molly Malone's partying with Chaz Fitzsimmons, also a Northern Irishman living in Tasmania.
We got up and started work at 7am and everything was fine. After lunch though we had got about half way through one of the rows when mother nature was calling. I needed a poo. This was the first time I had been in this situation on a broccoli field. Rebecca Gaby our boss was a great lady and was luckily working alongside us that day - I shouted over at her "Rebecca I'm off - I need a poo!" and off I ran - I had thought about running all the way back to the actual portable toilet but it was miles away, so I had to just crouch down at the side of the paddock. Things had got out of control let's just say!
Everything came out at once in the broccoli paddock and my trousers, boots and pants had been left over to the side. I tried using leaves to clean my ass but it wasn't enough so I used my underpants to wipe it and dumped them behind a tree near a fence. At this point my team came back up and appeared at the top of the hill. Half naked, I quickly put my jeans and waterproofs back on and ran back to continue cutting the broccoli!
It was a decent day in the field apart from that incident. That night, I obviously washed all of my clothes, suddenly admitting that I couldn't tell the difference between mud and shit. Don't Stop Living!
About the Author:
Learn more about Jonny's travel stories. Stop by Jonny Blair's site where you can find out all about his travel tales and get some awesome and amusing tips on travelling the world.
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