Sheep-shearing backpackers in Oamaru

Arriving in Oamaru late at night in the midst of winter, I alighted the Intercity bus from Christchurch (48nzd, 4 hours) to a rather chilling (literally) realisation that my backpackers is quite a distance. But I’m excited to be in a new small town—being in Christchurch before this—and so with freezing fingers, I dug out from my backpack borrowed gloves and charged on. The walk was 17 minutes long, upslope. My luggage felt like it weighed double.

There was a fat fluffy cat loitering outside as I arrived, panting. I let myself in, the cat in as well. Tentatively sending some “hello?” “anybody?” down the hallway, I smelled fresh bake. Sylvia popped her head out from the kitchen, brows slightly damp from perspiration, hands in oven gloves. She welcomed me into Oamaru Backpackers warmly, saying she has been baking.

Sylvia gave me a tour, and walked me to my dorm bed—strong wooden structures built into walls, with curtains to draw for privacy and a huge treasure antique chest for luggage storage. While unpacking, I asked Sylvia if there’s any farm around to get near to sheep. I admitted to her, my first choice of accommodation was on a farm but the Airbnb room was unavailable.

Sylvia looked at me, her eyes lit up. The owners of this backpackers own a sheep-shearing business and she’d ask right away if I could join farmer Phil on his rounds tomorrow morning. She told me to enjoy a warm shower now. I returned to my bed to find a slice of freshly baked rhubarb tart and a note.

We visited two farms. Sitting in the dusty truck, bouncing on our bums towards sunrise and farmlands. There were two other backpackers from the UK, experienced Woofers Hazel and Julietta.

We learnt that there are two types of shavers for the sheep—one which is used for the winter, so the sheep have a slightly longer length of wool to keep warm. We learnt that the weaker, limping sheep will get spotted, marked and slaughtered, sadly.

And that because this species of sheep won’t shed their wool naturally, they are pleased to get a shave and feel light regardless of the winter chills.

Also, alpaca!

Farmer’s story: Brent the alpaca (the little dude looking at the camera) is slightly curious and we almost became friends. Now that’s Ellen in the background — the grumpy, cautious one always keeping a distance from everyone. Well, she avoids everyone except Boris the unlucky goat (not pictured, he’s at the other side of the fence), because both alpacas love to bully and peck him. So the farmer kept Boris in another plot of grass, safe and sound. And lonely though.

I love animals and their odd feisty personalities.

Oamaru Backpackers made me feel at home and I stayed for two more nights. There are loads of nothingness to do in this quaint little town and that’s exactly what I like about it.

Here’s a little tour of the backpackers 😉