Our last day in Fiji. Had our first lie-in since we got here, ate banana and maple pancakes for breakfast then headed into Nadi, the capital, on the bus which had a long seat perfect for the three of us and no windows, just plastic flaps which rolled up out of the way. Even the bell was old-fashioned, a long piece of string running the length of the bus which, when tugged, rang a little metal bell positioned painfully close to the driver's ear.
I was interested to see the real Fiji, not just the tropical paradise of the resorts. It was a real contradiction. It goes quickly from rural - basic shacks, trees and chicken scratching around on dirt paths - to urban with a huge MacDonald's and a new car showroom. The city centre itself was dusty and rundown. The shops all seemed dark and unwholesome, selling a peculiar mish-mash of wares. The souvenir shop had a hideous plastic toilet roll holder on display (in case you want to take that home to your mum!) and a tacky clock/lamp with various plastic cartoon characters sticking out at bizarre angles. Everywhere, there was someone sitting in the door plying for passing trade. It was a bit disconcerting. Fascinating but disconcerting. Soon, however, we grew too excited by the sun, so we quickly rushed back to the hostel and established ourselves on sunloungers just ten minutes before it started to rain. Typical. So the afternoon was spent writing long overdue postcards and getting ready for our departure. Still can't believe this is our final leg. Three days in Singapore is all that stands between me and home now and it's hard to say what I'm feeling. A peculiar mix of excitement at the prospect of getting home and seeing everyone, and sadness that there will be no more planning and anticipation, no more adventure. We're not quite there yet though, there is just one more mini adventure to go and i'm determined to make the most of it....
Thursday, 27 May 2010
Fiji: Beachcomber (20-22 April 2010)
20 April 2010
No such luck on the sunshine front. We arrived to miserable weather and to an even more miserable welcome. We were shown unceremoniously to the huge 100-bed dorm with no walls. That's right, no walls, just nets that barely cover the huge gaps in the side of the hut. Showered then hit the bar to cheer outselves up. It turned out to be a great night; the drinks were flowing, there was a decent live band and once again we turned to our trusty entertainment of cards. This time, in our drunken state, we made it a bit more active, imposing rules which, when broken, saw people throwing themselves around the dancefloor on their own to the sound of our supportive 'whoops'! It was a very late night and I guess I might be warming to Beachcomber just a little now...
21 April 2010
Finally the sun comes out. Spent a very happy day making the most of it then a very happy evening making the most of the live band and the dancefloor again!
22 April 2010
Our last day in the islands. No, the sun didn't come out again for us which is how we ended up sitting in the bar area watching Sweet Home Alabama. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon I suppose. Eventually, it was 5pm and time to leave. and we arrived back to the mainland feeling nostalgic that only 12 days before we were just starting out. We decided to go out for dinner to cheer ourselves up. The main road was very dark and practically every car that drove past beeped at us or shouted something out of the window but we pushed on (what can I say, we really wanted a pizza) and soon arrived at a huge colonial building with verandas and elaborate wrought-iron railings. We ordered the biggest pizza I have ever seen, three lots of garlic bread and salad and devoured the lot. And, yes, it did cheer us up.
No such luck on the sunshine front. We arrived to miserable weather and to an even more miserable welcome. We were shown unceremoniously to the huge 100-bed dorm with no walls. That's right, no walls, just nets that barely cover the huge gaps in the side of the hut. Showered then hit the bar to cheer outselves up. It turned out to be a great night; the drinks were flowing, there was a decent live band and once again we turned to our trusty entertainment of cards. This time, in our drunken state, we made it a bit more active, imposing rules which, when broken, saw people throwing themselves around the dancefloor on their own to the sound of our supportive 'whoops'! It was a very late night and I guess I might be warming to Beachcomber just a little now...
21 April 2010
Finally the sun comes out. Spent a very happy day making the most of it then a very happy evening making the most of the live band and the dancefloor again!
22 April 2010
Our last day in the islands. No, the sun didn't come out again for us which is how we ended up sitting in the bar area watching Sweet Home Alabama. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon I suppose. Eventually, it was 5pm and time to leave. and we arrived back to the mainland feeling nostalgic that only 12 days before we were just starting out. We decided to go out for dinner to cheer ourselves up. The main road was very dark and practically every car that drove past beeped at us or shouted something out of the window but we pushed on (what can I say, we really wanted a pizza) and soon arrived at a huge colonial building with verandas and elaborate wrought-iron railings. We ordered the biggest pizza I have ever seen, three lots of garlic bread and salad and devoured the lot. And, yes, it did cheer us up.
Fiji: Mantaray (19-20 April 2010)
19 April 2010
A brilliant first evening at Mantaray, not least because the food here is the best we have had in the islands. There were actual courses. Creamy pumpkin soup flavoured with cumin, pesto, feta and roast vegetable tart and savoury chicken crepes with mashed potato and steamed vegetables. After that, we stayed up late playing cards. I think it's becoming an addiction since I didn't get to bed until 3am (although that might have been more to do with the flowing rum than the cards)? Took an age to swipe all the dead insects off my bed, check for lurking geckos with the feeble light of my head torch and wrestle my mosquito net down over the top bunk, but after that I slept remarkably well, for the three hours until breakfast that is.
20 April 2010
Yet more rain. Had a very productive morning though fashioning jewellery out of coconut shell, accompanied by the activities organiser who kept disappearing only to return a few moments later strumming a guitar and singing Jason Mraz with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. After another delicous meal of fish goujons, aoili and salad, we hopped back on the boat and heading to our final island, Beachcomber, with everything crossed for sunshine.
A brilliant first evening at Mantaray, not least because the food here is the best we have had in the islands. There were actual courses. Creamy pumpkin soup flavoured with cumin, pesto, feta and roast vegetable tart and savoury chicken crepes with mashed potato and steamed vegetables. After that, we stayed up late playing cards. I think it's becoming an addiction since I didn't get to bed until 3am (although that might have been more to do with the flowing rum than the cards)? Took an age to swipe all the dead insects off my bed, check for lurking geckos with the feeble light of my head torch and wrestle my mosquito net down over the top bunk, but after that I slept remarkably well, for the three hours until breakfast that is.
20 April 2010
Yet more rain. Had a very productive morning though fashioning jewellery out of coconut shell, accompanied by the activities organiser who kept disappearing only to return a few moments later strumming a guitar and singing Jason Mraz with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. After another delicous meal of fish goujons, aoili and salad, we hopped back on the boat and heading to our final island, Beachcomber, with everything crossed for sunshine.
Fiji: Coral View (17-19 April 2010)
17 April 2010
I warmed to Coral View immediately - all the staff are friendly and happy and we were made to feel very welcome. The accommodation is the best so far as well with white-washed walls, ceiling fans and a bathroom actually in the dorm. Luxury.
18 April 2010
Just ten days left of our trip and I am sitting inside, my tan fading by the second, watching the torrential rain outside. Yes, it is raining again in Fiji. I am less than impressed. This is our second day of bad weather and rain is just not what we signed up for! It's bad enough when it rains at home but it's even worse on a tropical island because there is quite literally nothing to do. At home, on days like this, you can snuggle up on the sofa with a warm drink and a good book, you can go bowling, or to the cinema - the possibilities for having fun when it rains in England are endless, which is good because that's what it does most of the time. Here, there is nothing. The beach is rendered fairly joyless, the tide is too far out to swim without cutting yourself to shreds on the coral and there is little point in doing the summit walk because the view will be non-existent with these clouds. This leaves just reading or playing cards, but a day consisting of these two activities in slow rotation is a very long one, believe me.
19 April 2010
Caving trip this morning. We didn't set out in the best of moods as the rain brought out all the mosquitoes and we were mauled while waiting for our boat which was forty minutes late - good old Fiji time. The cave was incredible though, a huge cylinder of sculpted stone and cliff with a natural skylight. It would have been better had we been given snorkelling gear like everyone else though; there is only so long you can tread water in an icy lagoon listening to people shout 'oh look, another massive eel', so we spent most of our time there sitting shivering on a rock like Gollum.
Then it was time to say goodbye to Coral View. The staff sang the Fijian farewell song Isa Lei which is beautiful - I love that you can always get the mood of their music, even though you can't understand the words. I am sorry to leave this island.
I warmed to Coral View immediately - all the staff are friendly and happy and we were made to feel very welcome. The accommodation is the best so far as well with white-washed walls, ceiling fans and a bathroom actually in the dorm. Luxury.
18 April 2010
Just ten days left of our trip and I am sitting inside, my tan fading by the second, watching the torrential rain outside. Yes, it is raining again in Fiji. I am less than impressed. This is our second day of bad weather and rain is just not what we signed up for! It's bad enough when it rains at home but it's even worse on a tropical island because there is quite literally nothing to do. At home, on days like this, you can snuggle up on the sofa with a warm drink and a good book, you can go bowling, or to the cinema - the possibilities for having fun when it rains in England are endless, which is good because that's what it does most of the time. Here, there is nothing. The beach is rendered fairly joyless, the tide is too far out to swim without cutting yourself to shreds on the coral and there is little point in doing the summit walk because the view will be non-existent with these clouds. This leaves just reading or playing cards, but a day consisting of these two activities in slow rotation is a very long one, believe me.
19 April 2010
Caving trip this morning. We didn't set out in the best of moods as the rain brought out all the mosquitoes and we were mauled while waiting for our boat which was forty minutes late - good old Fiji time. The cave was incredible though, a huge cylinder of sculpted stone and cliff with a natural skylight. It would have been better had we been given snorkelling gear like everyone else though; there is only so long you can tread water in an icy lagoon listening to people shout 'oh look, another massive eel', so we spent most of our time there sitting shivering on a rock like Gollum.
Then it was time to say goodbye to Coral View. The staff sang the Fijian farewell song Isa Lei which is beautiful - I love that you can always get the mood of their music, even though you can't understand the words. I am sorry to leave this island.
Fiji: Korovou (15-17 April 2010)
15 April 2010
Arrived in Korovou, a distinctly more touristy resort, at lunchtime. There are sturdier buildings here, a large terrace and a chlorinated pool, none of the charm of the other islands. I will, however, forgive them for the bland lunch of fried rice because this was the first place we received a welcome drink and a flower for our hair.
Spent a restless afternoon by the pool then had another average meal before experiencing the surreal entertainment factor of the island's 'bula boys', young men wearing no shirts and grass skirts, who wriggled around in front of us to no discernible routine or rhythm for two whole songs. It was a very awkward six minutes, kind of like being invited to watch the dancefloor in a tropical nightclub first thing in the evening when only the bold take to the floor. Then of course we had to get involved and learn the 'dance', although it was beyond me how they could teach it to us when they had failed to teach it to themselves, stumbling through the song and frequently glancing at each other to ensure that, yes, they were still all out of time. Something to look forward to tomorrow night at least.
17 April 2010
Very ill yesterday for some reason so spent the whole day in bed. Feeling better today which is a relief. Spent a restless morning by the pool - it was unbearably hot, without a breath of wind or a moment's relief - then watched the coconut demonstration before leaving Korovou. First they removed the husk, then cracked it open with their hands before scraping the flesh from the shell using a specially-designed little stool with a dagger poking out at one end. We just had time for a taste then it was on to Coral View.
Arrived in Korovou, a distinctly more touristy resort, at lunchtime. There are sturdier buildings here, a large terrace and a chlorinated pool, none of the charm of the other islands. I will, however, forgive them for the bland lunch of fried rice because this was the first place we received a welcome drink and a flower for our hair.
Spent a restless afternoon by the pool then had another average meal before experiencing the surreal entertainment factor of the island's 'bula boys', young men wearing no shirts and grass skirts, who wriggled around in front of us to no discernible routine or rhythm for two whole songs. It was a very awkward six minutes, kind of like being invited to watch the dancefloor in a tropical nightclub first thing in the evening when only the bold take to the floor. Then of course we had to get involved and learn the 'dance', although it was beyond me how they could teach it to us when they had failed to teach it to themselves, stumbling through the song and frequently glancing at each other to ensure that, yes, they were still all out of time. Something to look forward to tomorrow night at least.
17 April 2010
Very ill yesterday for some reason so spent the whole day in bed. Feeling better today which is a relief. Spent a restless morning by the pool - it was unbearably hot, without a breath of wind or a moment's relief - then watched the coconut demonstration before leaving Korovou. First they removed the husk, then cracked it open with their hands before scraping the flesh from the shell using a specially-designed little stool with a dagger poking out at one end. We just had time for a taste then it was on to Coral View.
Fiji: Waya Lailai (13-15 April 2010)
13 April 2010
Another day of not much at all in paradise. Up again at 7am for breakfast (these unsociable mealtimes are my only issue so far in Fiji) then had an hour of sunbathing before the boat arrived to transfer us to Waya Lailai, our next island. Turns out it's quite a complex procedure going from one island to another. First you have to board a little water taxi which is always wet despite the blazing sunshine. Then you head out to sea and bob around waiting for the big boat to pull up alongside you, always threatening to a) splash you mercilessly or b) mow you down. Either way, it's a very novel approach to sea travel. At Waya Lailai, we again crammed ourselves and our luggage - which is tossed around as though there is no ocean below waiting to swallow it up - into another unfeasibly small boat and cruised ashore to a welcome song from the staff.
It's a bigger island than South Sea. Admittedly, that's not difficult; there are bigger houses than South Sea. But it has a great set-up - a long sandy beach and teraces cut into the green, forested hills where little thatched beach huts serve as accommodation. Our dorm reminds me for some reason of a Civil War hospital though. It's a long, dark and narrow room, humid and hot, with rows of beds draped in mosquito netting. Not that it matters, we won't be spending much time there anyway.
We whiled away the morning on the beach then ate a lunch of fish goujons, stir-fry and rice. This was accompanied by the obligatory slices of pineapple and watermelon which have accompanied every meal so far in Fiji. After lunch, we took a weaving class with the ladies from the village, who taught us to weave bracelets from dried leaves, then finished the day with a nap in the fading sunshine.
14 April 2010
Woke to glorious sunshine, perfect for our reef shark snorkelling trip. It was a bit disconcerting on the way out. The reef is in the middle of the sea, we were in a tiny fishing boat and a man sat at the helm sharpening his spear all the way. The suddenly he threw himself off the boat into the middle of the ocean - we looked at our other companion in surprise but he didn't seem to notice (or care) that his friend was gone. We later picked him and he swung back into the boat followed by a string of fresh and colourful fish.
The snorkelling was incredible. The reef sharks aren't dangerous and only about 1.5m in length but they are an exact miniature of that deadly form we have conditioned ourselves to fear. At one point, there were four circling slowly below us, occasionally darting to the surface to snatch the morsels of fish our guide was holding out (and there was me thinking you're not supposed to provoke them)! Though they didn't touch us, they came within about a foot and seemed completely nonplussed by our presence.
After that it was back to our usual busy schedule of lazing on the beach, occassionally dipping into the water which is as hot as a bath, and eating copious amounts of food. The evening brought excitement though in the form of Waya Lailai's Fijian Night. They started with a kava ceremony then dished up the most delicious meal we have had so far, a traditional Fijian meal cooked in a underground oven called a lovo. The food was excellent, not disimilar in style to the maori hangi: pureed spinach with coconut milk, fried aubergine, succulent chicken and pork, root vegetables and terro root (a dense, earthy potato). We finished with steamed chocolate pudding and strawberry sauce. I love not having to cook for myself at the moment.
A concert followed dinner, with all the locals in Fijian dress performing traditional songs and dances for us. It was so nice to see such community spirit (Waya Lailai is the only resort in the Yasawa's that is run completely by the locals); obviously everyone form the village pitches in to keep the resort going. Once again, it is refreshing to see that cultural identity is still being passed down the generations. Imagine gathering together everyone from a village in England and asking them to perform a traditional English dance. What on earth would we do? The macarena?! It's not even an English song! I suppose this cultural preservation is easier in a country where the way of life is not advancing so rapidly. Stories, songs and dances are passed down, not forgotten in the scramble to gain control of the TV remote.
Anyway, it was a great evening...until they asked us to join in, that is. Suddenly a man perspiring more than I ever believed it possible to perspire made a beeline for us and grabbed hold of me and Megan and squashing each of us securely under one arm. I could actually feel the heat emanating from his armpit (a situation no-one should ever have to be in). Let's just say it was not my favourite five minutes of dancing. Once it was over, it took us two antiseptic wipes, a soap label, a layer of aftersun and a spritz of insect repellent to obliterate the smell. And we laughed throughout the whole process. We couldn't help it; there is something very amusing about smelling like an old man's armpit it turns out!
Another day of not much at all in paradise. Up again at 7am for breakfast (these unsociable mealtimes are my only issue so far in Fiji) then had an hour of sunbathing before the boat arrived to transfer us to Waya Lailai, our next island. Turns out it's quite a complex procedure going from one island to another. First you have to board a little water taxi which is always wet despite the blazing sunshine. Then you head out to sea and bob around waiting for the big boat to pull up alongside you, always threatening to a) splash you mercilessly or b) mow you down. Either way, it's a very novel approach to sea travel. At Waya Lailai, we again crammed ourselves and our luggage - which is tossed around as though there is no ocean below waiting to swallow it up - into another unfeasibly small boat and cruised ashore to a welcome song from the staff.
It's a bigger island than South Sea. Admittedly, that's not difficult; there are bigger houses than South Sea. But it has a great set-up - a long sandy beach and teraces cut into the green, forested hills where little thatched beach huts serve as accommodation. Our dorm reminds me for some reason of a Civil War hospital though. It's a long, dark and narrow room, humid and hot, with rows of beds draped in mosquito netting. Not that it matters, we won't be spending much time there anyway.
We whiled away the morning on the beach then ate a lunch of fish goujons, stir-fry and rice. This was accompanied by the obligatory slices of pineapple and watermelon which have accompanied every meal so far in Fiji. After lunch, we took a weaving class with the ladies from the village, who taught us to weave bracelets from dried leaves, then finished the day with a nap in the fading sunshine.
14 April 2010
Woke to glorious sunshine, perfect for our reef shark snorkelling trip. It was a bit disconcerting on the way out. The reef is in the middle of the sea, we were in a tiny fishing boat and a man sat at the helm sharpening his spear all the way. The suddenly he threw himself off the boat into the middle of the ocean - we looked at our other companion in surprise but he didn't seem to notice (or care) that his friend was gone. We later picked him and he swung back into the boat followed by a string of fresh and colourful fish.
The snorkelling was incredible. The reef sharks aren't dangerous and only about 1.5m in length but they are an exact miniature of that deadly form we have conditioned ourselves to fear. At one point, there were four circling slowly below us, occasionally darting to the surface to snatch the morsels of fish our guide was holding out (and there was me thinking you're not supposed to provoke them)! Though they didn't touch us, they came within about a foot and seemed completely nonplussed by our presence.
After that it was back to our usual busy schedule of lazing on the beach, occassionally dipping into the water which is as hot as a bath, and eating copious amounts of food. The evening brought excitement though in the form of Waya Lailai's Fijian Night. They started with a kava ceremony then dished up the most delicious meal we have had so far, a traditional Fijian meal cooked in a underground oven called a lovo. The food was excellent, not disimilar in style to the maori hangi: pureed spinach with coconut milk, fried aubergine, succulent chicken and pork, root vegetables and terro root (a dense, earthy potato). We finished with steamed chocolate pudding and strawberry sauce. I love not having to cook for myself at the moment.
A concert followed dinner, with all the locals in Fijian dress performing traditional songs and dances for us. It was so nice to see such community spirit (Waya Lailai is the only resort in the Yasawa's that is run completely by the locals); obviously everyone form the village pitches in to keep the resort going. Once again, it is refreshing to see that cultural identity is still being passed down the generations. Imagine gathering together everyone from a village in England and asking them to perform a traditional English dance. What on earth would we do? The macarena?! It's not even an English song! I suppose this cultural preservation is easier in a country where the way of life is not advancing so rapidly. Stories, songs and dances are passed down, not forgotten in the scramble to gain control of the TV remote.
Anyway, it was a great evening...until they asked us to join in, that is. Suddenly a man perspiring more than I ever believed it possible to perspire made a beeline for us and grabbed hold of me and Megan and squashing each of us securely under one arm. I could actually feel the heat emanating from his armpit (a situation no-one should ever have to be in). Let's just say it was not my favourite five minutes of dancing. Once it was over, it took us two antiseptic wipes, a soap label, a layer of aftersun and a spritz of insect repellent to obliterate the smell. And we laughed throughout the whole process. We couldn't help it; there is something very amusing about smelling like an old man's armpit it turns out!
Fiji: South Sea Island (11-13 April 2010)
11 April 2010
South Sea Island, the first stop on our island-hopping tour of the Yasawa's, is a little sand isle sprinkled liberally with palm trees in the middle of the ocean. When I say little, I mean it. You can walk its entire circumference in less than five minutes. Roz, Megan (our new accomplice) and I spent the entire day lazing in the sun, stirring only to eat a BBQ lunch and have a lesson in how to tie a sarong (I have the skills, now I just need the sarong)! Now I am sitting in the fading light, the most beautiful part of the day, watching the sun sink lower casting a path of light on the sea towards me like a fallen streak of lightning, and listening to the gentle lapping as the tide rolls in. I just need these mosquitoes to bugger off and I'll be blissfully happy!
12 April 2010
Today was our one day sailing trip aboard 83 foot schooner Seaspray. Had to get up at 7am for breakfast (what happened to Fiji time?) then hop on a boat in the rain one hour later (what happened to the sunshine?) to get the water taxi to meet it. We were feeling a little despondent as the boat lurched through the rough waters, clutching a leaflet in our hands which illustrated what an amazing trip this is on a sunny day, which is most certainly was not. We were lucky in the end though because, even though it was overcast, it didn't rain any more and it was still warm enough (which is a good job because we only intend to wear one outfit in Fiji and that is a bikini)!
We started the morning at Modriki, the uninhabited island used to film Castaway. It was like something out of Jurassic Park - a rocky summit surrounded by thick vegetation and trailing off into sandy beach as it neared the sea. We spent some time exploring - turns out you don't need long on an island of this size - then climbed aboard for an impressive BBQ lunch.
Appetites satisfied, we anchored off Yanuya Island where we visited a traditional Fijian village. We were welcomed ashore by a kava ceremony - we even tried some. It tastes like water which has been drained through soil. Afterwards, we wandered around the village. The houses are very basic and functional, one storey and with slatted windows. It appears to be a very simple and peaceful way of life; they grow their own tapioca, spear their own fish and make jewellery and ornaments from wood and shells to sell to passing boats at their market. Unfortunately, we only had an hour here so before we knew it, we were back on the boat travelling at an alarming 45 degree angle to the sea with the charming crew singing and playing guitar for us. A great day. I'm going to spend the whole evening singing "you are my sunshine" in my head though.
Now I'm sitting back in the same spot watching the sun go down and unable to get over just how beautiful it is here. I can definitely put up with ten more days of this.
South Sea Island, the first stop on our island-hopping tour of the Yasawa's, is a little sand isle sprinkled liberally with palm trees in the middle of the ocean. When I say little, I mean it. You can walk its entire circumference in less than five minutes. Roz, Megan (our new accomplice) and I spent the entire day lazing in the sun, stirring only to eat a BBQ lunch and have a lesson in how to tie a sarong (I have the skills, now I just need the sarong)! Now I am sitting in the fading light, the most beautiful part of the day, watching the sun sink lower casting a path of light on the sea towards me like a fallen streak of lightning, and listening to the gentle lapping as the tide rolls in. I just need these mosquitoes to bugger off and I'll be blissfully happy!
12 April 2010
Today was our one day sailing trip aboard 83 foot schooner Seaspray. Had to get up at 7am for breakfast (what happened to Fiji time?) then hop on a boat in the rain one hour later (what happened to the sunshine?) to get the water taxi to meet it. We were feeling a little despondent as the boat lurched through the rough waters, clutching a leaflet in our hands which illustrated what an amazing trip this is on a sunny day, which is most certainly was not. We were lucky in the end though because, even though it was overcast, it didn't rain any more and it was still warm enough (which is a good job because we only intend to wear one outfit in Fiji and that is a bikini)!
We started the morning at Modriki, the uninhabited island used to film Castaway. It was like something out of Jurassic Park - a rocky summit surrounded by thick vegetation and trailing off into sandy beach as it neared the sea. We spent some time exploring - turns out you don't need long on an island of this size - then climbed aboard for an impressive BBQ lunch.
Appetites satisfied, we anchored off Yanuya Island where we visited a traditional Fijian village. We were welcomed ashore by a kava ceremony - we even tried some. It tastes like water which has been drained through soil. Afterwards, we wandered around the village. The houses are very basic and functional, one storey and with slatted windows. It appears to be a very simple and peaceful way of life; they grow their own tapioca, spear their own fish and make jewellery and ornaments from wood and shells to sell to passing boats at their market. Unfortunately, we only had an hour here so before we knew it, we were back on the boat travelling at an alarming 45 degree angle to the sea with the charming crew singing and playing guitar for us. A great day. I'm going to spend the whole evening singing "you are my sunshine" in my head though.
Now I'm sitting back in the same spot watching the sun go down and unable to get over just how beautiful it is here. I can definitely put up with ten more days of this.
Fiji
10 April 2010
I noticed two things as soon as we arrived in Fiji. Firstly, that the Fijians have a great sense of humour - the guy at passport control took one look at my passport photo, laughed in my face and congratulated me on having lost weight since it was taken. That's the first customs official to acknowledge the fact that I look like a chipmunk with a full mouth on my passport aloud. A very brave man indeed! The second thing I noticed was that there really is such a thing as "Fiji time". Everyone is so relaxed, it's amazing anything gets done at all.
We emerged from the arrivals gate looking like pack horses and were immediately directed outside to await our free transfer to the hostel. And wait we did. For over an hour. I get the impression this is a nothing out of the ordinary. As we sat waiting, the sarong-clad airport staff kept ambling past, repeating "Skylodge Hostel, yeah?", smiling and nodding knowledgably, then retreating with a conspiratorial wink as if the driver who has yet to make it from the hostel less than ten minutes down the road is a mischievous, but impossibly cute, child whose shortcomings must be tolerated. But really, what is the rush? Most of us spend our lives rushing about; there always seems to be somewhere we have to go and something we have to do. We live in a society where tipping up an hour late with no explanation just won't do. We are about to have two weeks in paradise living by Fijian rules and I think I can definitely live with that.
I noticed two things as soon as we arrived in Fiji. Firstly, that the Fijians have a great sense of humour - the guy at passport control took one look at my passport photo, laughed in my face and congratulated me on having lost weight since it was taken. That's the first customs official to acknowledge the fact that I look like a chipmunk with a full mouth on my passport aloud. A very brave man indeed! The second thing I noticed was that there really is such a thing as "Fiji time". Everyone is so relaxed, it's amazing anything gets done at all.
We emerged from the arrivals gate looking like pack horses and were immediately directed outside to await our free transfer to the hostel. And wait we did. For over an hour. I get the impression this is a nothing out of the ordinary. As we sat waiting, the sarong-clad airport staff kept ambling past, repeating "Skylodge Hostel, yeah?", smiling and nodding knowledgably, then retreating with a conspiratorial wink as if the driver who has yet to make it from the hostel less than ten minutes down the road is a mischievous, but impossibly cute, child whose shortcomings must be tolerated. But really, what is the rush? Most of us spend our lives rushing about; there always seems to be somewhere we have to go and something we have to do. We live in a society where tipping up an hour late with no explanation just won't do. We are about to have two weeks in paradise living by Fijian rules and I think I can definitely live with that.
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