A Remarkable Encounter

Here is my latest entry on my page called Remarkable Encounters. Enjoy!

 

PEEBEE & FRANCIS

(aka David & Phoebe)

There are those who preach a better way of life and then there are those who live it. In a time where climate activists jet-plane across continents and latte-sipping revolutionaries nurture their online identities, Phoebe & David are simply pulling the plug. And when the oil runs out, I know they will be ready for it.

We’re talking getting off the grid and off the system. Enter intentional community. Call it anarchy, hippie, radical, left wing or even libertarian. Franny and Peebee call it Ponyland. The place where rainbows end – in muffins and in friends. Backed by a band of caring and capable queers from Australia and beyond, they have put an inheritance to good use. A hundred acres of the world’s most ancient land has been freed for the force of love to manifest, henceforth known as Ponyland. They should have broadcast that in the news.

Sounds pretty doesn’t it? Pretty hardcore too. People know how to use guns around here. Rural Australia isn’t for the faint-hearted either with all its natural hazards. Ponyland certainly has its share of killer critters, from ticks to spiders, all fashion of snakes and of course the endemic Homo Capitalismus (usually represented by mining companies and a mercenary police force).

The Way To Golden Bay

One time, while hitching in Australia, I was told about a small – but thriving – intentional community in a lovely sounding place in New Zealand. The driver who told me about this place made it sound so inviting that I decided to go there as soon as I arrived in Kiwi-land. And so it is that a short hitch in Oz led me to the peaceful new-age hub of Golden Bay.

To get to Golden Bay there is only one way; over the 800m Takaka Hill. On top of the hill there is an emergency airstrip and this is the gorgeous view form there.

In 1642, the Dutch were the first Europeans to arrive in this micro-climatic, lush bay, protected from the rest of the South Island by a range of hills bordering to mountains. They had barely put their clog-clad feet on the white sand, however, before the local Maori decided to make minced meat of them. The Maori habit of devouring their enemies led the Dutch to first name this place “Murderers Bay”.

This is one of New Zealand’s iconic house trucks. And yes, of course I have ended up living in one myself!