Life with the Speedys

Pam and David welcomed us into their home with wide, welcome arms. Wwoofing is a very trusting experience I think, not least for the hosts who are risking bringing some right nutters into their homes. We’ve been incredibly lucky for all three of our wwoofing experiences in New Zealand and are thrilled that we did it.

David and Pam have four grown up sons: Duncan, the eldest, owns a house in the town centre where Angus, the third son, lives as a lodger. We met them both a number of times at the house. Tim has been living and working near Auckland but recently moved home and is living with Pam and David for the time being. Nick, who we didn’t meet, is the youngest and just a month ago started an Engineering degree in Christchurch and has just left home. It’s thus a very manly household - I asked Pam about this and she assured me that she still has girly times with friends if she wants them.

The Speedy house

Elke and her boyfriend Harry were living in their amazing bus (Bessie) in the Speedy’s garden. Harry was doing a work exchange in the local diving shop so wasn’t wwoofing with us during the day but came home to eat with us in the evening.

For our first few nights, we slept in the caravan. We were happy and cosy here but cold weather drew us to the indoor guest bedroom once Paulina had left.

As with our stay at the Cloughleys, my favourite part of the day was during the evening when David and Pam were home from work and we’d all eat and chat together. We spent some wonderful evenings here learning about the local area, how they came to be living here in what they originally built as a tractor shed and all about New Zealand. We ate extremely well with vegetables fresh from the garden and fresh bread made by Elke (and the bread machine) everyday. Chris made burgers one day and amused us all when he discovered a squelchy mess in the bread machine. He was attempting to make his own burger buns but sadly… forgot the flour. Oh dear. Pam came to the rescue in the end and rectified the situation. We left the bread-making to Elke after this.

Conversations around the dinner table often led to dramatisations and demonstrations. Here we are demonstrating that girls can, in fact, throw just as well as boys, thank you very much.

The boys couldn’t help giving us some pointers all the same.

One evening, Pam got her knitting needles out and a big basket of wool, most of it home spun. Mum, you would have squealed with joy. Elke had recently taken up knitting and reminded me what to do - Mum’s tried to teach me hundreds of time but with me, it’s a patience thing I suppose: I’ve just never had enough of it to carry on. This time I’m determined that Chris is going to have a knitted scarf for his birthday in time for the cold we are bound to feel as we arrive in South America during the Chilean winter. It would be rude not to, I felt. Pam said I should have a go with some of her home-spun wool which made it all the more special and encouraged me greatly.

Steph, what are you doing?

KNITTING!

The hills are alive...

Chris' favourite thing however...

"On rainy days (we had 2 in as many weeks) I would watch the animated series of Tintin on DVD. Steph would roll her eyes while knitting to the sound of 'Blistering barnacles, thundering typhoon!' Go Tintin!"

The Animals:

Chris and Meg

Chris and I became great friends with Meg, the family’s dog. She has a lovely character and helped us everyday with our work! They also have a cat which used to find it’s way onto our bed every night, purring loudly. Chris and the cat became good friends but I didn’t share this love, sadly.

David with Bambi

As well as a pet cat and dog, David also had a pet deer. It had been found, orphaned, by one of his students at school who didn’t have enough space to keep it. David and Pam adopted it though Pam’s fondness of the animal decreased severely as it continued to eat her strawberries and tear up her garden. The day we arrived, David had been made to fence little Bambi in but went to visit him everyday. He’s just lost his spots and is growing his winter fur.

Bambi teaching Chris who’s boss

Spot the cow...

Just down the road was a horse-trekking place. I went to enquire and decided to give it a go. I’ve only been on a horse twice before when on holiday in Abersoch aged 10 and was scared by it. I’ve become determined in the last few years to give horse-riding another try so off I went. I must admit that riding the camel in India was more exciting. These horses were so slow and lazy we never went faster than a human’s walking-pace. I had no reason to be scared, not once. The scenery was of course just gorgeous and in fact, we trekked around the very areas where we’d been herding sheep with David the week before. I’m looking forward to trying horse-riding again in Argentina hopefully.

Hunting:

While David does love his Bambi, he is also a keen hunter and talked to us about a previous job of his based on this passion. As with rabbits in Australia, New Zealand has become overrun with a number of animals introduced by Europeans including possums, cats and deer. In the 70s, the government’s response was to encourage deer hunting and many successful businesses were formed with this aim. Helicopters were used for swifter catches as New Zealand attempted to lower its deer numbers. David worked as a hunter for a few years but explained that he loves hunting so much he didn’t want it to become a job for fear that he’d stop enjoying it. Now he and his sons go hunting on their own land.

David had told us that it would soon be mating season which was exciting because it meant that the stags would come onto his land looking for females, making noises (grunts and groans which he demonstrated regularly) which would make them easier to hear. He doesn’t allow the boys to shoot the hinds (much to the disappointment of Tim who just one week before had stared one right in the eye and resisted the temptation) as he wants them to breed and the numbers to grow on his land. Nightly, David would leave the house, stand on the terrace, grunting and groaning in the hope that a stag would reply. I found this rather amusing and did occasionally reply with a very feeble attempt at a stag groan of my own.

There was much excitement when one evening Harry came home from work at the dive shop saying that he’d seen two stags bound across the road. David was thrilled about this and it became the talk of the town (well, neighbourhood) while we were there. After finding out the exact location of the stags, David went there at 3am the next day before work. Madness. Alas, he saw nothing but that didn’t stop him trying the next few evenings and mornings. This was all very interesting to me and I admit that I did caught up in the excitement of it all … One night, I went out hunting with David and Tim.

Chris decided to stay at home and take care of some emails and research into our trip and I almost giggled when, on the drive round to the back forests, Tim asked, “So, does Chris not like killing things then?”. I didn’t really know how to respond to that. I mean, it’s not as though he’s ever ‘killed things’ before so he hasn’t got a preference either way. And the fact that I’m here sitting in the car doesn’t necessarily mean that I do ‘like killing things’ either, even though the question implied that I did. We both eat meat in great quantities and we’re not hypocritical or deluded into being anti-killing the animal that we see on our plate, but… well, we haven’t got any experience in killing it ourselves. I kept the answer to a simple, “No, I suppose not”.

We clambered through the trees and up the hills, stopping every now and again to have a scan of the hills opposite us. David occasionally made a stag grunt and even broke some branches off trees to bang together - this was the sound a stag makes as it rubs it’s antlers on a branch to mark it’s territory. We sadly heard no reply.

I must admit that much of hunting seems to be sitting and waiting. Well, that’s all it is really unless you get very lucky which isn’t exactly everyday here as deer numbers are so small in this area. As dusk fell, I took my position on the side of the mountain and sat, and waited. It was a great experience being out in the hills, in the quiet, not making any noise, and as the stars started to twinkle I thought just how lucky I was to be here in New Zealand being shown different things about the land and animals by such interesting people. It’s hard to write about enjoyment on this level without sounding massively cheesey, I know.

Needless to say, we didn’t see anything but on the drive back I was given the job of spotlighter. This involved standing on the back of the Ute while David drove back home on the rugged mountain road. I shone the spotlight into the trees in the hope of catching the reflection of some eyes. Tim, meanwhile, stood right beside me pointing the gun wherever I shone the spotlight. We saw nothing, not even a possum. I guess I’m a bad luck charm when it comes to hunting. I’ll just have to give it up, I suppose.

On our last night at the Speedy’s, the talk of the town was that the neighbour across the road had seen a stag and a hind standing right on his driveway as he returned home. Well, this was enough to make David jump up and down with delight and off he went into the night on our last evening. It was Tim however, who finally shot something - a hind (but it wasn’t on David’s land so he said he could justify it). He apparently spent the rest of the early morning dragging it home and doing the necessary business before hanging it up. How on earth he went to work a full day at the salmon farm, I don’t know but it really was all excitement in the Speedy household on our final morning as we said goodbye.

On our final weekend David shot a lamb which I watched him and Tim skin and gut. I wasn’t brave enough to do any of it myself but I did find myself drawn to watching as I only think it’s right for meat-eaters to know what is involved in the process before we buy it from the supermarket. This was a very new experience for me and I’m glad I saw the whole process. One of their previous wwoofers had always wanted to kill a chicken for similar reasons and Chris and I were offered the same privilege. I must admit I was tempted but I didn’t do it in the end. Do I regret it? I’m not sure, to be honest. I think my chicken-killing days are yet to come. At least I was present for the whole lamb thing.

On our last evening with the Speedys Chris and I ended our cycle tour of the Marlborough vineyards by meeting Andy at a Blenheim pub to watch the Melbourne Grand Prix, the track we’d driven on just weeks before We came home to an amazing Sunday roast, the star of the show being the lamb that David had shot the day before. It was so tasty. I feel I have crossed a line as a meat-eater and feel slightly less hypocritical about eating it now. I’m glad I saw the whole process from the living lamb to the plate.

Reflections from Chris: "I'm not sure how I felt about shooting a lamb, slitting its throat and watching it be skinned, gutted and left for butchering. We ate him the next day as a Sunday roast with Kumaru, a New Zealand sweet potato."


We’ve absolutely loved staying with the Speedys; the best bit about the whole wwoofing experience was meeting David and Pam who have made us laugh, taught us lots and made us feel so incredibly welcome in their home and lives. THANK YOU!! You have to let us know if you’re ever in Europe so you can come and stay with us wherever we are - I’m sure we’ll be able to find some wwoofing jobs for you to do!