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A French guy and an English girl in Australia
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We had been working at the Southern Cross hostel in Agnes Waters/1770 for two weeks before Christophe arrived. Three French girls had just left, opening up two bedrooms for more WWOOFers. A few days after the girls departed, Christophe and his girlfriend Lara moved in. At first I didn’t know what to make of this odd couple; Christophe, a boisterous Frenchman, paired with Lara, a demure English girl. Over the next two weeks, we quickly learned to appreciate both of them for their vastly different personalities.
Christophe was an undeniable ball of energy. Red Bull seemed to flow in his veins. On his first day of work, he developed a new method of mulching. Effectively blitzkreiging the garden, he covered more land with mulch in three 
short hours than I had done in a week. After exhausting himself under the relentless sun, he bounced off to the beach where he spent the afternoon surfing.
Lara, in the mean time, spent most of her mornings in town and the afternoons working in the office. A bit more reserved, she took a few more days to get to know. Once I became comfortable around her, I discovered that she had tons of interesting stories to tell from her life back in England. A wide traveler, she was empathetic with people from across the globe, making her a popular receptionist in the office.
At our WWOOF house set apart from the main hostel, I spent afternoons out on the porch, sometimes talking to Christophe about sports, sometimes talking to Lara about music. Once, we discovered a set of rackets and balls. For the rest of the afternoon, Lara and I chased small green rubber balls around the garden, whacking them mercilessly at each other.
At nights, Christophe would achieve his true form. After a long morning in the garden, followed by an afternoon at the beach, Christophe would be forever excited for anything the night could bring. When we would build fires in the fire pits, Christophe always provide the comic relief, talking uninhibitedly to any traveler who cared to sit on the log next to him. He seemed to find points of common interest with even the most obscure person.
Perhaps my favorite memory of Christophe came from the different odd English phrases he’d use. A huge fan of the movie Into The Wild, Christophe would vehemently shout “Society!” whenever the urge struck him. These outbursts were usually followed by a slightly more subdued “Alaska!” exclamation. Once he was rolling, he'd put on the soundtrack, singing along to Eddy Vedder’s lyrics with a heavy French accent.
My time around Christophe always ended with a laugh. Finding humor in every situation was something at which Christophe excelled. It took me only a few days after we’d left Agnes Waters/1770 to discover how much I missed his joie de vivre and youthful enthusiasm. A few weeks later, we learned that he too had moved on from the hostel, splitting up with Lara and heading into the territory south of Bundaberg, certain to find more adventure and excitement along the way.
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