Category: Writings

WWOOF and HelpX: Seeing the World One Farm at a Time

On By ambertravelingIn Animals, Asia, Australia, Backpacking, Couchsurfing, Pretty Places, Uncategorized, Volunteering, Writings2 Comments

The light filters through the branches of the plum tree, each leaf outlined in a brilliant yellow from the just risen sun. We are reaching up, stretching to pluck the abundant purple plums above us.

In about an hour, we’ll all join together for our first meal of the day; muesli, homemade yogurt, and fresh fruit salad, made with fruit we picked earlier in the week.

I’m on an organic stone fruit orchard in Australia, volunteering with five other travelers from around the world. After breakfast, we gather in a shed for our next job. We laugh and tell stories around a table as we carefully slice fruit for the solar drier. Once our four hours of volunteering are over, we convene with the farmers and share a big communal lunch.

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The rest of the day we have free to explore – we can borrow bikes, go for a walk around the neighboring orchards, relax and read books, or talk and play games with our new friends. At dinnertime we reconvene for a group meal, which we take turns each night cooking. Tonight, the Japanese travelers are trying their hand at a quiche, and I overhear them asking the older couple from Switzerland for advice about how to make the perfect crust.

Every day, I am learning new, practical skills for free. More importantly, though, I’m meeting like-minded travelers intent on learning from each other and giving back to the world. We are WWOOFers – Willing Workers on Organic Farms.

To read the full article, check out http://wondergressive.com/2013/09/23/wwoofing-seeing-world-one-farm-time/

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Barefoot Freedom

On By ambertravelingIn Pretty Places, Uncategorized, Writings2 Comments

Climbing Redwood Trees in Santa Cruz, California

by Amberly Young

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The sun has just set and a soft blue glow radiates from the heart of the forest. My feet are bare and I feel the moist earth beneath my soles.

These trees are hundreds of years old, I think to myself as I walk, gazing up into the canopy.

The only noise is the gentle breeze shifting through the branches and the quiet crackle of my footsteps on the dry pine needles.

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The redwood forest of Santa Cruz, California surrounds me, and I lose myself in the beauty of the swaying saplings and deep red trunks. I feel an ancient wisdom reverberating around me. I follow the path by the meadow, crossing the field I recognize from full moon drum circles, over the bridge by a trickling creek, winding through trees as wide as trucks and as tall as skyscrapers.

I pass the Wishing Tree, a small oak, where people write their prayers and dreams on slips of paper and tie them to branches in the hopes of being heard.

Finally I reach my destination. In the center of a small clearing she stands, a 150-foot tall douglas fir. We call her Tree 9.  A swing twirls lazily from the lowest branch, along with a rope ladder inviting you to ascent the magnificent giant.

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No one else is with me today, although I often take my friends here to show them one of my favourite places on our university campus. We go to school in the middle of a magical redwood forest – the University of California at Santa Cruz. I selected this wonderland as my top choice, turning down the competitive and prestigious UC Los Angeles. I didn’t want to live in a city, surrounded by buildings and traffic.

I’m proud of my decision, I think as I climb up the lower branches. Though I’m alone, I feel safe, I know this route, I’ve done this before. I lose myself in the rhythm, wrapping my arms around branches as big as my waist, always maintaining 3 points of contact, stepping close to the tree where the branches are strongest.

Already I feel a sense of calm, and find myself forgetting to worry. My typical cycle of thoughts shut down as I continue up the tree. She beckons me up, up, up. I feel my heart race as I ascend, my brain warning me that I wouldn’t survive a fall from this height. But I trust my body, and remember to breathe, and I trust this beautiful tree that has stood here, in this spot, since before I was born, since before my great grandmother’s grandmother was born.

Near the top I feel her swaying. She is supportive but not stiff. She weaves with the wind. Her limbs are thinner now, some no thicker than my wrist.

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At the very top, there is sort of a seat, a plateau, a place to rest. Now I can relax.

Stretched before me are hundreds of other trees, each a majestic being in itself. Together they are an undulating forest of deep green, clustered in threes, cascading far into the distance. I can just make out the ocean, a dark blue under the softening sky.

Behind the trees, nestled in the forest, there are the classrooms and dormitories and laboratories and libraries and lecture halls of my university, but I can’t see them. Here I can forget everything and just sit in my gratitude for this world I was born into. Here I can meditate and appreciate my being, my freedom to climb, to explore. Here I can relax and ease into myself, part of the forest, silent, smiling, thankful.

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About the Author : Nature lover Amberly Young is a traveling writer, photographer, and musician.  After she graduated from university in Santa Cruz, California, she hopped on a plane to New Zealand, stayed there for a year volunteering on farms, and then spent 4 months travelling in Southeast Asia. She is currently living in Melbourne, Australia, finishing up her one-year working holiday visa, before traveling more in Asia.

All text and photos by Amberly Young. This story was also published on WeSaidGoTravel, find it here.

Be Brave and Busk!

On By ambertravelingIn Australia, Backpacking, Couchsurfing, Uncategorized, Writings3 Comments

Busking in Melbourne, Australia

The heavy red curtain falls to the ground. It’s intermission, and the audience spills out of the Center Stage Theatre, buzzing from the musical energy of the show.

A 9 year old in a little pink dress, her mullet haircut askew in a rainbow headband, struts confidently in front of her entire extended family, and – feeling inspired – belts out a song.

Now that I’m 22, I’m not so quick to sing in front of crowds. But if I can remember the bold little girl I once was, I can rack up the courage to perform.

In Australia, they call it “busking.” Here in Melbourne, the art and music center of Australia, you’ll see them everyday. All of these artists are required by the city to get a permit that they audition for. The streets are competitive. There is a lot of talent here. Many people perform as their main livelihood.

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On a busy intersection in the CBD a blonde teenager closes her eyes, crooning a quiet song into her microphone while finger picking an acoustic guitar. Her soft voice is magnified by the amplifier so even the traffic and trams cannot block her soothing melodies.

Further down the road a homeless-looking man in a tattered suit and top hat plunks out funky oldies on an old piano. Passers-by are free to request songs from a list on the side, hopefully in exchange for a modest donation. Coins clink in his bucket as Japanese tourists gawk and take photos.

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Nighttime, and the city comes alive. Lights dazzle from all directions as cars and trams stream down the road.  In the midst of a giggling crowd, a guy in a full-body bunny suit rocks out on his electric guitar, creating a funky beat. Couples laugh arm in arm as they acknowledge his silliness.

Then there’s me, playing my ukulele on a quiet street. I enjoy the echo of my voice bouncing down the alleyways. I put out the case of my instrument and people drop in coins – here they have both a $1 and a $2 coin, which buskers appreciate.

For me, it’s not about the money. I can practice my music and see people’s reactions, what songs work and what songs I should rework.

Busking is a great way for musicians to tackle their stage fright – playing in front of an audience can be scary, especially strangers on the street! The first coin that falls in your hat is a huge encouragement.

I’ve travelled around the USA, in New Zealand, and Australia, and have met many talented musicians who are exploring the world with their instruments. Many sell CDs for $10 or $20 which they make on their computers, turning quite a profit: money that can be put towards flights and hostels so they can keep traveling.

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And who knows, there’s always the possibility that a music producer will hear you and fall in love with your music, or that your future band mates might hear your voice and decide they want you in their band, or that you might just cheer up someone who is having a bad day.

For young musicians, I’d say busking is a great way to practice and build your confidence. So get out there, and give it a shot!

About the Author: Amberly Young is a traveling writer, photographer, and musician. She plays piano, flute, ukulele, guitar, and sings. After she graduated from university, she hopped on a plane to New Zealand, stayed there a year volunteering on farms, and spent 4 months travelling in Southeast Asia. She is currently living in Melbourne, Australia, busking around the city with a 1-year working holiday visa!

To hear Abbie Evans perform,(the girl in the second picture) check out her soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/abbieevans

Thanks to We Said Go Travel for also publishing this story, you can see it here:  http://www.wesaidgotravel.com/melbourne-australia-busk