Although a lot of you have given up reading this blog due to inactivity (thus won’t read this sentence, and hence I am waffling before I’ve even started), for those that have not, here is (a full 5 months after I was there) the final instalment from my Round the World Trip.
A week away from the end of the trip I wasn’t expecting much from the briefest of stops in the United States but in reality it was a great end to the trip. Before leaving the Cook Islands we managed to watch Michael Moore’s Sicko and Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth. What better way to prepare myself for a visit to the good ol US of A?
If you’ve not seen An Inconvenient Truth, watch it. The increased awareness about Global Warming was very evident to me upon returning to the UK after a year away, however the film brings up some shocking facts. Al Gore seems infinitely more capable man than a certain Mr. Bush so much so that you can only wonder what if… Early on in the film while on the topic of that infamous election farce and said president, an American girl got up and left the room, muttering “this is too depressing to watch”. This and the recent conversations about American Policy I’d had with a lovely American couple in the Cook Islands had me fired up and ready to visit the land of the free.
Arriving in Los Angeles, the contrast from remote desert island to throbbing metropolis was quite incredible, especially given the views we were afforded from the plane.
With only a couple of days to see the LA we only had time to have a bit of a nose around those places so well known from the movies and television: Hollywood, Sunset Boulevard, Beverly Hills and Santa Monica. One of the most striking things about LA was the number of Hispanics. More Spanish is spoken than English. Every bus, shop and restaurant found us speaking Spanish to the locals. Fine by me, but it seemed quite strange that the only place on this trip where we spoke Spanish was in a country who’s official language is English.
It wasn’t long before a few little annoyances started getting to me. I’d been using my Nationwide card to withdraw cash from machines all over the world without paying commission. Even in Laos, where the guide books report there to be no cash machines, we were able to withdraw money without charges yet here in the US I was charged for every single transaction.
On our last day in LA we wanted to spend some time wandering about the city catching our Megabus to San Fran in the afternoon. We’d hoped to drop our luggage of at the station and pick it up just before our bus was due to leave. For security reasons we were unable to leave luggage without a valid train ticket. The bus ticket was not enough… Therefore we had to pass five hours waiting for our bus at the station instead of making the most of our time there. Something that was so simple in India, for example, was not possible in America… That’s progress for you.
While I’m on the topic of annoyances, I may as well go all out… Why do all dollar bills look the same? Differentiating between the different values requires close attention. No different sizes or colours. How do blind people cope?
Most annoying for me though was the compulsory tipping… If a service is bad or the food is crap, why should I be obliged to give a 10% tip. It just seems wrong to me. I know that waiters and waitresses are paid a pittance and make most of their money from tips, but compulsory tipping just seems a bit of a contradiction.
While we there a British friend of a friend found out the hard way what happens when you don’t tip. After being overcharged for a cab he refused to tip the cab driver, who then speed off with all his luggage still in the cab including his laptop, ipod and all his clothing.
Wandering about the concrete grid world that was Hollywood was quite entertaining. We also managed to get ourselves invited along to the filming of a TV program, the “Chelsea Lately” show. It was free and we figured it would be good way to get a feel for what this place was all about. Upon arrival at the studio we realised most of the crowd were actually being paid to be there. In fact, many of the people were professional audience… That is they sign up and get paid to sit and watch shows, clap, cheer and laugh. The people around us were evidently from some of the poorer neighbourhoods and it has to be said, pretty damn stupid. Eavesdropping on some of the conversations was quite amusing… Two ladies who had just met were discussing their respective boyfriends. Woman 1 was saying to woman 2 that her man sounded good for her and things were going to work well out until she found out that said boyfriend was a Sagittarius. Upon discovering this she seemed to be suggesting that he was the root of all evil, was not good for her at all and she had to get away from him as soon as possible.
The filming of the show was absolutely ridiculous. “Canned” laughter is something that always annoys me in TV shows, yet here we were sat in a filming studio awaiting the show to start when they set up especially to record out laugher. We had to snort, snigger, laugh loudly, from left to right and from front to back… all with nothing more than a cue of “laugh now”… Afterwards we were told how great we were and that our laughter was going to be used on several shows.
The show itself was pretty rubbish. One of these cheap late night shows where by an attractive blond generates (false) laughs by taking cheap digs at celebrities. Still, we got a free DVD out of it and an insight into how this industry works…
Moving onto San Francisco, which although a much nicer city, it was quite concerning to see the number of homeless and “crazy” people on the streets. We’d not seen so many beggars since the likes of Cambodia! In fact only India surpasses the place. It was incredible how the city changed as you walked a few blocks. One minute you are on the busiest upmarket shopping street in the city, two blocks later in a run down area surrounded by homeless and drug addicts. We later found out that many of those wandering the streets are Vietnam Vets. Apparently Regan closed some pretty big asylums nearby letting them all out on the streets. The land of the free, the land of opportunity…
While wandering the streets it was positive to see quite a lot of people campaigning about some of the current issues like Global Warming and the current stance of the Bush administration towards Iran…
While in San Francisco, I managed to meet up with Kenny, a good friend of mine who I worked with at Sun Microsystems during my placement year. We’ve always got on very well, partially due to our love of Drum & Bass and memories of raving in the 90s, confirmed a few years when Kenny came to stay in Spain for a week or so.
Catching up was great and it was pretty interesting to hear his views and experiences of living in America. He’s enjoying it and has no plans to come home yet but is frustrated by the segregation and racism that still exists along with the narrow mindedness and government policies. A friend of his was explaining to me a little about the US economy, half of which I couldn’t get my head round, but apparently they are pretty reliant on the belief that the Euro will crash and enable to build the dollar up again. They also have so much money in the Gulf that they cannot afford not to burn oil. Apparently the economy depends on it which is a massive issue given the problems of Global Warming. It kind of explains the childish comments from one of the Republican candidates when quizzed about the Kyoto agreement: “When China does something so will we…” What if whole of Europe said the same as the USA. Besides, per person is by far a worse polluter than China. Even Australia has now signed Kyoto Agreement with their long overdue change in government, the only developed country bar the US not to do so.
We responsibly got away from the doom and gloom of the current political and global climate by drinking more and going and dancing away to some filthy Drum and Bass… Great to get the body moving again but I had to share in Kenny and Wayne’s thoughts that its not what it used to be. It all sounds the same with no bouncing base lines, verging on the lines of (god forbid) techno… all part of a progression that and I fear Renegade Hardware have a lot to answer for. I can’t knock them though after one of my best nights in Bristol was an awesome Renegade Hardware night at the Trinity Centre eight years ago.
Despite its problems, San Francisco is a very cool city. We spent our last couple of days of our year long trip doing the standard tourist things and we were blessed with great sunshine and none of the famous San Fran fog. We managed to ride the Cable Cars, see Alcatraz, Golden Gate Bridge and Fisherman’s Wharf. All very nice, but not much to write about, so take a look at some pics instead.
One final thought… Only in America can you take an unnecessarily large, uneconomic, ugly and pointless vehicle and make it larger, more uneconomic, uglier and even more pointless…
And so, with just a transatlantic flight back to London, ended our trip around the world. 12 months, 13 very diverse countries. Some incredible experiences all of which are taking a long time to sink in. Hopefully this blog has served to illustrate what we’ve been up to, however I look forward to sharing a beer with you and telling you more…
Oh, and I returned looking a little different to when I set of 12 months previous…
As many of you know, the trip is over. In fact we’ve been back for two months! I figured that once home I’d have loads of time to reflect on the trip and get this blog up to date. Reality was far from that. I started writing this post before the trip was over but everything has been pretty hectic since I returned that I’ve not finished until now. Still, being a sucker for completeness I fully intend to get this and our brief time in the US posted. So, back to the Cook Islands, central pacific paradise, a far cry from rainy Bristol, or was it?
The plan was for a two week relaxing vacation style trip in the Cook Islands to recover from all this traveling we’ve been doing. No more running around between different places… Settle down in some paradisical resort like on Koh Wai or Cagalai and relax. Unfortunately things, for the first week at least, conspired against us.
Our knowledge of the Cook Islands before arriving was minimal. This was possibly the place we were least prepared for (reading and photographing the guide book in the airport bookshop constituted our research). We found out after arrival that by law you have to book accommodation before you arrive in the Cook Islands. Thankfully there were no police taking interest in our criminal activities of trying to find accommodation, which at midnight in the pouring rain wasn’t the greatest of prospects. Thankfully there were minibuses waiting at the airport to pick up booked in guests and we were able to find some cheap dorm beds for a couple of nights.
We arrived on Rarotonga, the biggest of the Cook islands which isn’t exactly big. The bus that chugs its way slowly around the entire island only takes 50 minutes. Take a look on my map page and compare the size of the place to, erm say, Australia. The place is beautiful with sharp mountains rising in the middle and a light blue lagoon separating the outer reed from the beaches. Check out this aerial shot to what I’m on about. Around at Muri beach the lagoon is at its widest with several small islands plonked in the middle to spice things up a bit. In the Sun the place must be wonderful, but for us, it rained nearly every day. We arrived in November which is pretty much shoulder season between the dry and wet seasons, although many locals believed that the rain had come early this year.
After a day and a half of near constant rain at our first hostel we moved on round the island to Muri beach to a guest house highly recommended to us by or friends Delia and Salva who we met in New Zealand. The place was a little over our budget but after the good things we’d heard it was well worth checking out. We weren’t disappointed and the owner, Amanda, even new us by name as we arrived (thanks once again to Delia and Salva) but unfortunately she was only able to fit us in for one night. After some quick planning we decided to spend some time on Aitutaki, claimed to have the most beautiful lagoon in the Pacific, with a plan to return to Rarotonga on the first day that Amanda had space for us at the guest house. Aitutaki was actually on the list of places to visit that I posted before the off and truly appears to be a Pacific paradise.
Unfortunately, booking accommodation was a real pain. For the previous eleven months on the road we’ve only booked accommodation twice. Normally we just turn up to recommended guest house or hostel, check out the rooms and take one if they’re available. If not we keep on looking. Unfortunately in the Cook Islands it doesn’t work like that. One has to book in advance which was made even more frustrating as inter islands calls are expensive, very few guest houses answered their phones and for the few that did, the person on the other end of the line had no real clue about rooms availability or cost.
Still we got ourselves booked into a room close to the lagoon, got a good deal on a last minute flight and set of on a trip which promised to be something special. It was… at least for the duration of the flight where we had beautiful aerial views of the lagoon and islets. From there on though, everything went downhill. It rained, a lot. The wind was ferocious causing large swells and destroying underwater visibility. This and bad timing with the tides caused our few attempts at snorkelling to be a complete waste of time. Everything was very expensive (more so than New Zealand, never mind Fiji) and we managed to get lost while trying to climb up to the islands highest viewpoint. Worst of all though was our accommodation, Josie’s Beach Lodge. This place was more expensive than Are Mango, and yet offered none of the same comforts. The beds were uncomfortable, our room had no mosquito net (others did) and the kitchen was ill equipped and dirty. There were several cats that would come and start fighting just outside at some point after midnight and the other guests were all very weird, so much so that after a while we just tried to avoid them. Worst of all though, was the water pump that was right next to our bedroom window that fired up every 23 seconds making a lot of noise (I know, I was counting while unable to sleep due to the disturbance). Excluding the cats and weird guests, these were all regular sort of complaints that in most places the management would be able to resolve for you. Not here. The owners had left for New Zealand the day we arrived, taking our money for several days in advance (something I was reluctant to pay as we didn’t know how many days we wished to stay) and leaving no one in charge with only the cleaner coming in daily.
Despite all of this, our first week in the Cook Islands wasn’t all negative, it is just that I’m better at writing about things that have annoyed me than things I’ve enjoyed. One day we wandered off to explore the island. Edging towards the end of our trip our money had all but run out (I think it was here that the parents were contacted for a loan…) so hiring a moped was out. Instead we set off walking but before long some locals had picked us up and drove us into the island’s only town. Mentioning this has reminded me of our arrival on Aitutaki. Here the guest houses do not do pick ups but there is a shuttle bus for $8 a head. This seemed to me pretty steep for a drive of less than two kilometres, so we set off walking instead much to the annoyance of the bus driver. We hadn’t even reached the end of the airport drive when one of the locals offered us a lift in the back of his pick-up. As he stopped to let us climb on board, he blocked the road and the shuttle bus had to wait and watch two potential customers get their free ride. A smug moment for me.
The town itself was little more than a collection of houses, the port and a couple of shops. Island life is very laid back and there seems very little to do for the 2000 or so population. The place seems so far away from anything else… Free from the troubles of the outside world. Possibly for this reason Aitutaki has been the location for Reality TV shows, Survivor and Shipwreck but having seen neither it meant very little to me (there are tours dedicated to visiting set locations). These shows have had a positive effect on the islands economy but has also lead to an increase in prices for tourists.
I had hoped to explore the wonders of Aitutaki lagoon on our own in a kayak or catamaran but the waves were too choppy to go out in a kayak and the only chap on the island with a catamaran wouldn’t rent it out as it was too windy!? Instead we went out on a Lagoon boat cruise which despite the bad weather was actually pretty good. We did some snorkelling although the water was very choppy due to the wind. There wasn’t a great deal to see where we stopped but the water was incredibly clear. The cruise gave us a chance to see some of the remoter islets, some stunning beaches and some very impressive sand bars. We were also treated to some good food and the spectacle of hermit crab racing. On top of that, the sun even came out in the afternoon.
Anyway, back to the horrors of Josie’s Beach Lodge. Unable to sleep and thoroughly uncomfortable there we wanted to leave on the Friday. There were even some cheap flights available for that day, but as we had already paid for the Friday night we didn’t want to loose that money. I brought this up with the cleaner’s husband who was looking after the moped hire, “nothing he could do to help” came his response. Later Espe approached the cleaner who was defensive and aggressive from the off. This soon degenerated into a shouting match with Espe with the cleaner hurling insults at her. Espe actually felt physically threatened at one point with the cleaner who was three times her size backing her into a corner. This got both of us rather wound up, more so than I even want to try an explain here. After this we decided to take the cheap Friday flights anyway and loose the money for the accommodation but by this point all the tickets had sold out. Not only did we have to spend the final night there in a very tense situation but having missed the cheap flights offer it cost us over $100 more to get off the damn island.
The only good news for the day was when I called Amanda at Are Mango. With a bit of room shuffling she was able to fit us in two days earlier than expected and invited us to join her and her dad sailing the following Saturday. The following morning at the airport we thought we were on the home run but then at check in they had no reference for the tickets I’d booked the previous day. The check in staff demanded to see my tickets but as I’d booked them over the phone I had none. Furthermore the ticket office had failed to give me a reference number. I spelt out our names, Place & Gil but she was still unable to find us. After a few tense moments she spotted some names and realised that we had been entered incorrectly. Our boarding passes were duly printed out with our new names:
Andrew Elace
Samantha Eranza
The Aitutaki atoll is truly a beautiful place. It was just that our experience was bad. This is a place to come to with money. It is a hugely popular honey moon destination and I can see why. With the right weather in the right resort this place would be incredible. Still, at least we had some stunning views on the flight back and typically, the Sun came out as we left.
Are Mango Guest House
Probably the best accommodation we’ve stayed in during our whole year trip. There have been others that come close, such as Riverside Guest House in Thailand, but for completeness, Amanda’s Are Mango has it. Large, cool comfortable rooms, clean modern facilities, dvd room (with a decent collection - very rare in my traveling experience), free use of bikes, free use of snorkel gear, cheap kayak hire, beautiful beach 30 seconds away, comfortable sofas in communal area, free local phone calls, 1 for 1 book exchange, hammocks hanging in the garden, complimentary tea, coffee and fruit. Better than all of that though is how welcome you are made to feel. This place truly felt like home, more so because we got on very well with many of the other guests. Just as well really, because of all the rain we spent a lot of time in the guest house rather than on the beach.
Worthy of a special mention are Willy, a Swiss guy who loved the place so much he ended up staying for over a month, an Argentinian couple who we ended up playing a lot of cards and dice games with and an older American couple. I prejudged them as I often do with Americans: very friendly but ignorant to the outside world. We were talking about traveling when they asked me about my opinions and impressions from Laos. If you remember my anti American rant after visiting Laos you will understand why I felt a little uncomfortable about this question and reluctant to share my true opinions about it. I stayed on the fence until I realised that they were of the same opinion as me… And I can say what a relief and pleasure it was to meet such people that go so against the stereotypical American. I was fascinated to learn that they were campaigners against what was going on in Laos at the time and that it was known what was going on. The alternative press published many an article on this only to be ignored by 90% of Americans. The husband even used to lecture with someone who was involved in the CIA Heroin smuggling that I’m yet to read about in Christopher Robbin’s Air America. The next two evenings I spent talking with them (this was so long ago that I can’t be sure of their names) finding all about the current political climate, the anticipation of no more Bush, some of the injustices committed by the current administration etc. All very educational for me.
Best of all though was the repour that Espe and I built up with Amanda. Guest house managers have to be nice to their guests, but Amanda is genuinely friendly and passionate about what she is doing. We got on immediately, helped of course by the indirect introduction from Delia and Salva, the interest in photography, the sailing and of course Spanish. She has a Columbian boy friend and is currently learning Spanish.
Cook Islands National Vaca Regatta
Upon discovering my interest in sailing, Amanda invited us to join her and her father for the annual national Vaca Regatta. Vacas are Polynesean style out rigger / sail boats. Naturally we jumped at the chance and on the Friday before the event went out for a quick practice sail. Despite limited wind we seemed to manage reasonably well.
Come race day we listened to the briefing, pretending to understand all the yachtie speak. Soon after, the Vaca was rigged and out we went. First up Willy and I accompanied Amanda’s Dad for the morning’s racing. Amanda’s father was under no illusions that we could win with such an inexperienced crew but was hopeful that they wouldn’t repeat last years score of three capsizes!
Out on the water was great fun flying the hull on many an occasion. We got some incredible speed and I learnt more about sailing from this experience than everything I’ve done before. We even started most of the races pretty well, although things rapidly went down hill. From memory, we finished last, last runner and second last in the mornings three races, during which we managed to capsize three times, snap a mainstay and loose a man overboard (Willy, not me). But that really didn’t matter as it was just so much fun.
After lunch the weather turned really foul and the afternoon’s racing was postponed. This didn’t stop Amanda’s dad taking Amanda and Espe out for some real white nuckle sailing in the very windy conditions. It looked incredible from the shore and Espe confirmed that it was even better out there. And they managed to show the boys up by only capsizing once, although it was quite spectacular and got a huge cheer from all at the sailing club (I also managed to catch the moment on… erm, memory card).
This was a perfect way to spend our last day on the island. It was immense fun and thanks to the generosity of Amanda, all for free. The Regatta was postponed till the Sunday due to bad weather and we were convinced that it would come good as soon as we got on the plane…
Typically, Espe received the following from Amanda shortly afterwards:
Amanda wrote
at 6:42am on December 3rd, 2007
Espe!!!! I miss you both already!!!!!!! Today was a beautiful day and we sailed WITHOUT capsizing!!!! perhaps because you were no longer here ; - ) jejejejeje….we also got the trophy for most capsized! and we did a small speech and mentioned our fantastic international crew and how unfortunately you couldn’t be here today!!!
Returning to the main land from Taveuni on a twelve hour overnight crossing we had half a day to stock up on supplies before moving on to Caqalai (pronounced Thangalai, obviously). This small paradisaical island, described as the near perfect backpackers resort in the guide book (I can’t bring myself to write those two words), is east of the main island of Vitu Levu and is part of the Lomaiviti island group. On a par with Koh Wai in Thailand and if it wasn’t for the weather we had I might even had said that Caqalai was better.
The island’s only resort attracts the backpacker crowd with cheap basic accommodation and all inclusive packages, the cheapest of which, provided us with a dorm bed each and fantastic food for a mere £25 a night. Not Asia prices but extremely good value compared to everywhere we had been to in the previous four months.
To get to the island we had to make our way up the Kings Road by bus to be dropped off at a bridge crossing the Waidalice River. Within half an hour a boatman turned up and took us on our way along the river, winding through the mangroves before emerging in the open sea. Twenty minutes later a tiny little coconut palm tree covered island, that was to be our home for the next four days, grew in our sights and a feeling within told me this place was going to be pretty special. A few moments later the boat deposited us on the beach amidst a warm songful welcome from the locals.
Beautiful sandy beaches, clear blue water and incredibly friendly staff greeted us to the island. We were soon to meet some of the other guests which included some real characters (in fact the place was the busiest location we’d been to so far) who we were to get to know quite well over the forthcoming days.
The snorkeling off the beaches on Canqalai was incredible. This was one of the best places I’ve ever snorkeled, second only to a marvelous spot on Koh Phang Yang (which may be better only in memory as it was the first coral reef I ever snorkeled on). I always go on about the diversity and health of coral but this place was incredible. Within metres of the beach there was splendid soft and hard corals stretching some 100 metres before the outer reef dropped off to the deep blue below. I didn’t spot any rays or turtles though (the later of which are apparently quite abundant).
On one particular morning I was surface diving down around the outer reef. The coral was four metres below the surface which I was following quite closely. I suddenly swam over the drop off and got this immense sense of vertigo as all of a sudden I could see nothing but blue stretching out endlessly below me. As if this wasn’t enough of a surprise, in the corner of my eye I spotted a banded sea snake foraging for food.
After surfacing for air I ducked down for a second time to get this photo of the snake, but when I returned to the surface it seemed to spot me and follow me up. This was just a tad unnerving as Banded Sea Snakes are poisonous with enough nasty stuff in them for it to be fatal to humans. Apparently they don’t attack humans but I didn’t really want to be close enough to find out. Once I was back on the surface the snake continued up towards me so I moved pretty quickly. It, thankfully, didn’t follow me and surfaced where I had just been. It was then that I realised that it was just coming up for air. Obvious really but having never seen a sea snake do this before I hadn’t figured they needed to. Like regular snakes they need air. If they were able to breath underwater then they would be eels… Obvious but I hadn’t thought about it before. It is a great feeling learning about something first hand by seeing with your own eyes, especially something so charming as this fine creature.
Our time on Canqalai was spent snorkeling, reading, socialising or playing cards. Due to the rain we had (varying amounts everyday) the later two took up more of our time, but it wasn’t all bad as we got to know Alex and Owen well (two very different and very interesting British lads who are travelling the world together) along with a whole host of other people including a stunning and friendly Dutch couple and several Canadian girls. There was a young Swedish couple who we didn’t get to know at all as they spent all their time in between eating, watching DVDs on their lap top. I understand that Heroes is addictive viewing by why spend loads of money crossing the world to do something that you can do better in your own living room?
It was a shame to leave Canqalai after so little time there. Without the rain the place would have been near perfect. In fact, if it wasn’t for a particular Fiji “must do” we would have spent three more days there. So, amidst a traditional Fijian goodbye of music and flowers we found ourselves boarding the tiny boat, this time covered up in sowesters ready for the journey back to the mainland.
We had yet another bus trip via Suva where we once again made full use of internet cafe’s and the wonderful hot bread kitchen, before continuing our journey to Pacific Harbour where we were booked in for the must do Shark Dive the following morning.
The Shark Dive
This was something that Jon did on his round the world trip and insisted that I check out. Additionally I read a lot about the Fiji shark dive and was somewhat psyched up for the event. The Shark Dive at Pacific Harbour is reported to be the only place in the world where you can see so many different types of sharks feeding without being tucked away behind a cage of any sort. This is high adrenaline stuff with the dive guides feeding the sharks by hand only metres in front of you.
You can imagine my frustration when I was unable to equalise and it took me 6 minutes to get down to 26 metres to join the others behind the flimsy rope that was in place to keep us back from the hungry sharks. By this point I had the worst seat in the house and the action had already started. All I could see was a frenzy of fish swimming around all over the place. During the twenty minute dive, I did spot one nurse shark, from a distance, obscured by what seemed to be a thousand other fish. I was disappointed.
This was an expensive dive and we were guaranteed sharks, but one nurse shark from a distance was very poor (I mean, Nurse Sharks don’t even look like proper sharks). In fact, I’d had closer, scarier encounters in Thailand, Australia and the Philippines. In retrospect, the sheer number and variety of fish was unlike anything I’d seen before, as was the frenzied fight for food, but if something has been hyped up and you have high expectations, it is very easy to be disappointed.
I think our guide must have picked up on my disappointment, as on the second dive I found myself closer to the chief shark feeder (a very cool job title) than anybody else. From here I was to see all the action and I was blown away. They take down a wheely bin full of fish scraps that they try to feed the sharks with. Pretty much everything in the water comes along for some of the action so before seeing any sharks a frenzy of super fast Giant Travellis were whizzing around us accompanied by rainbow runners, Ramoras, a loan huge Hump Moari Wrasse along with loads of others that I couldn’t even begin to try and name. Seeing this mad feeding frenzy take place metres from my face was quite something.
And then along came a shark. This was just the nurse shark from earlier, but being this close it was a lot more fascinating to see it feeding from human hands and attempt to eat directly from the bin. A few minutes later and along came a collection of Grey Reef sharks and Silvertips (much more mean / cool / shark looking that the nurse) which was thrilling. Then we were treated to something big. A Lemon Shark, who’s size, to my eyes at lest was incredible. Feeding from the Fijian with the wheely bin it was easy to see what sort of damage this beast could do, yet the sharks here were the most calm and relaxed things in the water. A complete contrast to all the fish hurtling about at incredible speeds and the fast erratic hearts beats and breathing of the humans witnessing all the action.
Within what seemed like five, our twenty minutes were up and it was time to return to the surface. During the ascent and safety stop we were treated to views of five or six reef and silvertip sharks swimming around us. Back on the surface on a high we all spoke at once discussing what we had just seen. I found out later that there were bull sharks down there. One dive master claimed that there were six of them. This I find very hard to believe as I didn’t see a single one. Bulls are bigger and more aggressive looking than the mighty lemon shark that passed in front of me many times. If there had been one bull shark feeding from the man with the wheely bin, I would have seen in.
So I didn’t get to see any Bull or Tiger sharks (the Tigers really are something else… they are one of the few sharks that are dangerous to humans and are immense) but they are seasonal at Pacific Harbour and we weren’t there at the right time. Apparently when the Tiger comes in close, everything else scatters, leaving a clear view for all. That, especially having seen video clips on You Tube, I have to see.
It was absolutely incredible, and despite my initial disappointment it was one of those unforgettable experiences. Due to the madness, my photos and videos are rubbish. My eyes struggled to see passed the masses of fish to focus on the sharks so my camera really had its work cut out. None the less, the following should give you some idea…
This video shows how hectic it really was down there. A lemon shark does actually swim by left to right, shortly after the hand (bottom right) points it out. Unfortunately the youtube compression makes it very hard to make out.
A much better clip, as in you can actually make out the shark. Search on you tube for shark dive Fiji to see some really good footage including the incredible Tiger Shark.
This excitement was pretty much the end of our time in Fiji and our time with Nathalie (who is off to New Zealand armed with all the advice we could throw at her), but not before we took advantage of a rather swanky resort who had the good sense to build a budget dorm for people like us.
Our next flight was to be hard work. Air New Zealand had canceled the direct flight from Nadi to Rarotonga which we originally had booked so instead we had to go via Auckland in New Zealand to get to the Cook Islands. Instead of a three hour direct flight we were looking at ten hours, seven of those in planes, three hours at the airport. On top of that we had trouble at check in as the guy only checked us in as far as Auckland. When I quizzed him, he suggested that we cleared customs, collected our bags, check them in again and pass back through immigration. I wasn’t having this and after a while he gave in and checked us in correctly to our final destination. The fun continued though. On the flight they forgot me when serving the dinner and by the time they realised they had ran out of both the chicken / veg dish and the chicken pies leaving only the pasta dish. Not in the best of moods I winged about it as this was exactly what happened on the flight out to Fiji. To be fair to Air New Zealand, the got their act together and obtained for me an excellent Chicken Paninni from business class. I also got to keep the salmon pasta from cattle class while I waited. End result? One satisfied customer.
After being greeted by a live band in Nadi Airport and passing immigration (the passport is looking pretty good now) we were met by Nathalie, an old Uni house mate and as of recently girlfriend of a very good friend of mine back in London (I think I can claim some credit for that ). Nathalie, once recovered from the shock of how much hair I’d amassed over the last 11 months or so, lead us to our nearby hostel, serving as our local guide. She had just started her own round the world trip, going the opposite direction to us, Fiji being her first stop. By part coincidence, she arrived two weeks before us. One day during our stay in Fiji happened to be one month in for Nathalie and one month left for us of our respective trips. Seeing Nathalie so fired up about her trip reminded me of what I was like at the beginning of our’s and served to show how tiring this traveling lark can be (not that I’m complaining mind).
Without a guidebook we were relying on what Nathalie had discovered and wanted to see and so we made our way over to Suva before getting on a boat for a sixteen hour voyage to the Island of Taveuni. Not before we spent a night in an old Colonial era hotel (now a backpackers) along with a large group of Indo-Fijian laborers who invited us to join them for the national drink, Kava. A relaxing slightly narcotic drink made from roots of some kind of plant (kava plant?) which the locals drink by the bowl full, or in this case, washing up bowl full. This was a pleasant way to spend the evening and Nathalie was especially impressed as although she’d tried Kava on numerous occasions before we arrived, they were all specially put on for tourists. This was drinking with the locals, about as authentic as you can get.
We spent the best part of a week on Taveuni, a pretty remote and judging by the number of tourists, untouched island. We tackled the Lavena Coastal Walk after an arduous two and a half hour bus journey round the island on a potholed and gravel track. The walk was good taking us past some strange rock formations and rock pools (filled with bizarre minuscule life forms) and at the end we were treated with a pair of waterfalls with a large plunge pool for swimming in. After twenty minutes of having the place to ourselves a small tour group turned up. The braver amongst us (not me) after being shown by their guide slid down the small waterfall. And the very brave (only the guide and Nathalie) jumped from the top of the big pool, some fourteen metres. Something of which, Nat was understandably proud.
Also while on Taveuni we went diving on the much heralded Rainbow Reef but I have to admit I was somewhat disappointed. It was our first time in the water for a while so took a little while to get comfortable but the organisation of the dive masters was a bit poor and the dive briefing missed several key points (things I should have asked about… the joys of hindsight) which culminated in Espe and I due to a number of factors being separated from all the others for the whole dive. This would normally have been no real problem, except that the other group saw a hammerhead shark. The second dive was better but the coral and fish life didn’t live up to the “world class diving” status this place claims. Espe and my thoughts were echoed by those of Nat who had just completed her open water course elsewhere in Fiji surrounded by all sorts of colourful, pretty and moving stuff.
We also managed to visit the natural water slide at Waitavala. Fiji’s equivalent of an aqua park, the gradual waterfall has carved some smooth channels and at weekends loads of local families turn up with the kids hurling themselves down it. We naturally had a go. A few bruises were inevitable however over one fall I rammed my toes into a boulder shortly followed by my shin. At this point I retired to heal my wounds and watch the locals do it their way. Instead of sliding down on their arses, they go down standing up, surf style. Once again, very impressive.
We were lucky to time our visit with the Indian festival of Diwali. Given the vast number of Indians in Fiji this was bound to be a good celebration. The Brit’s shipped Indians over to work the plantations back in the coloneal days and although race relations are good at the public day to day level, most of the recent military coups (of which there have been plenty) are race related. We wandered up to Somosomo, the island’s biggest town to see what was going on. Besides all the fancy illuminations on the houses to celebrate the festival of light, the kids were out in force playing with fireworks. Everything we were told not to do as children growing up in the UK, these kids were doing with fireworks. They were lobbing sparklers at each other, catching spent fireworks as they fell from the sky, hurling bangers in every direction and shooting rockets across the street to opposing groups. It almost felt like a war zone. Needless to say the kids were loving it, as were we with our $5 butterflies and 20 cents sparklers. As the night went on the bigger kids came out to play and things became even more chaotic. Espe was not surprised by all this madness as she was brought up on Las Fallas, but for Nat it was a little too much excitement, running away like a proper girl (which from the abuse she hurls at JB we know she’s not) every time someone (including herself) lit a firework near her.
From such a small community I wasn’t expecting much in the way of celebrations (especially having witnessed the celebrations of 30,000 Indians at Wembley for Diwali several years back), but it was a fantastic evening and a true highlight of the stay on the island. Coming to Taveuni instead of hitting the uber-touristic Yasawa group was definitely a good idea.
I must admit I was surprised by how expensive things were here in Fiji. It is cheaper than New Zealand but way more expensive than Asia which I was foolishly expecting. Also a bit unexpected was the weather. It was really changeable with fierce sun and high humidity usually followed by cloud, wind and rain.
That was more than made up for by the friendliness of the locals. The Fijians have a reputation for being some of the friendliest people on the planet and it is easy to see why. They will happily stop for a chat, and unlike some of the places we’ve been to on this trip, none of them were out to scam us. Add to that the free lifts we were given about the island and the free food that was often thrust upon us, one can’t help but feel welcome here.
And on a final note, typically, I find out about Camper Van Racing just after I leave New Zealand…
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Andy
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