Another amusing travel and work story coming up now. I can laugh about this when I look back even if it is rather disgusting. So one day at work in a broccoli farm, I needed a shit...
While living in Tasmania I worked all over the place, doing broccoli farming in 13 different farms! I loved it and urge you all to try farming in Tasmania. Earning a living as a broccoli farmer was great!
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.
So one day I was on a big farm in a place called East Sassafras, northern Tasmania. There was a hill in the field, and beyond the hill you would be miles away from the base. The base is where you park you car, munch your lunch and yes, there is a portable toilet there! I had become quite 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.
Next morning was a 7am start as usual and nothing was a problem. After lunch however, we were about half way through a stretch of broccoli when I knew I needed to go to the toilet, of the number 2 variety. It was the first time this had happened while on a broccoli field. Our boss and top lady, Rebecca Gaby was working alongside us that day and I yelled over, "I'll catch you up, I need a shit" and off I ran. Initially I was going to run all the way back to the portable toilet but it was about a kilometre walk, so I pulled over at the side and crouched down in the paddock. It was out of control let's just say.
Just after taking my trousers and boots off I used leaves from broccoli plants to clean my bum. It wasn't really enough so my underpants had to be used as toilet roll and were then dumped in behind a tree near the fence. Just then my team and tractor arrived back at the top of the hill. They had known I had ran to take a shit, but now they could see me running with my trousers down desperately trying to make it back to cut more 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!
While living in Tasmania I worked all over the place, doing broccoli farming in 13 different farms! I loved it and urge you all to try farming in Tasmania. Earning a living as a broccoli farmer was great!
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.
So one day I was on a big farm in a place called East Sassafras, northern Tasmania. There was a hill in the field, and beyond the hill you would be miles away from the base. The base is where you park you car, munch your lunch and yes, there is a portable toilet there! I had become quite 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.
Next morning was a 7am start as usual and nothing was a problem. After lunch however, we were about half way through a stretch of broccoli when I knew I needed to go to the toilet, of the number 2 variety. It was the first time this had happened while on a broccoli field. Our boss and top lady, Rebecca Gaby was working alongside us that day and I yelled over, "I'll catch you up, I need a shit" and off I ran. Initially I was going to run all the way back to the portable toilet but it was about a kilometre walk, so I pulled over at the side and crouched down in the paddock. It was out of control let's just say.
Just after taking my trousers and boots off I used leaves from broccoli plants to clean my bum. It wasn't really enough so my underpants had to be used as toilet roll and were then dumped in behind a tree near the fence. Just then my team and tractor arrived back at the top of the hill. They had known I had ran to take a shit, but now they could see me running with my trousers down desperately trying to make it back to cut more 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:
Want to find out more about broccoli farming travel stories, then visit Jonny Blair's site on how to work and travel with the odd shit broccoli story around the world.
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