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…
Having heard that there were some good deals to be had on rental van relocations I spent a bit of time phoning around the different rental companies to see what was on offer. As time went by these offers just got better and better. Basically the companies are desperate to get their vans back to Auckland as most of their customers pick up the vans there and dump them at Christchurch. The problem of rental companies having all their vehicles in the wrong place really played into our hands and after several calls it seemed that Maui/Britz and Apollo had the best deals. Initially the best offer was a four day relocation at $5 a day with the added bonus that the company would pay for the vehicle on the inter island ferry while we would only have to pay for passengers but by the time we came to sign up we managed to get a 7 day relocation for $1 a day (less than 40 pence) with the ferry and passengers paid for. The seven days worked out perfectly for the time we had left in the country.
Booked with Apollo for a large four birth camper van (meaning we wouldn’t have to convert the sofas and table into a bed every night) with shower and toilet (complete luxury for us) we were pretty content, but it was not to be. When booking, Apollo insisted on a contact phone number and email. I gave them both stating that the phone number is of no use as it is a UK number, as obviously I was not there. They said not to worry they wouldn’t call, it is just required as part of the booking process.
Unfortunately the 4 birth van we were due to collect was involved in an accident before I could get my hands on it and we were offered a two birth instead. No real problem but Apollo tried to contact me to tell me the good news via email and phone. So, picture this, my poor mother in the UK receives a phone call at 1am from Apollo saying the the vehicle for Andrew Place has been involved in an accident. Not very tactful, and you can only imagine what would run through most mothers minds having been woken up in the middle of the night to be told news of their son and an accident!
Anyway, we picked up our smaller van, which was still the largest we’d had yet and set off Northwards. Unfortunately I was suffering from food poisoning from the previous nights dinner, a special night out as Espe and I were celebrating our three year anniversary, and as a result found the drive very hard work. Espe, who had been happy driving Matilda and Mauilda handed back the keys to this Apollo Transit within minutes as it was an absolute dog to drive. I can’t blame her, as the beast had a great tendency to stall and required a fair strength to work the steering wheel.
After sleeping very well we made it to the ferry with no problems. The ferry journey is pretty interesting as for the first hour of the journey it threads its way through the beautiful Queen Charlotte Sound just out from Picton. After spotting a couple of dolphins leaping in front of the ferry we were out into the windy Cook Straight.
Once on the North Island we passed through Wellington and continued northwards noticing immediately how much more densely populated the north island is. After another solid day’s driving we made it to Tongariro National Park ready to tackle the highly rated Tongariro Crossing.
This 17km day trek is considered by many as the best in New Zealand. Having completed it I can see why. We were immensely lucky with the weather with a clear sunny day. Until a few days previous the crossing had not been possible for over a month due to bad weather and too much snow and ice.
We started the gradual climb at eight in the morning along with other bus loads of walkers. Soon we were surrounded by bizarre rock formations created from the lava of previous eruptions. I guess I should have mentioned that this crossing has been somewhat active on the Volcano front. The climb became steeper as we rose to the pass between two Volcanos, Mt Ngauruhoe (2287m) and Mt Tongariro (1967m). Mount Ngauruhoe being an awesome sight looking perfectly like your stereotypical volcano.
After the pass we dropped down a little and crossed South Crater, site of a previous eruption, and then rose again up to Red Crater (1886m), so named due to the red colored rock visible inside the smoking crater. The walk up to here was hard work due to the unstable scree like stones that moved under foot. A case of two steps forward and one step back, I heard someone remark.
Red Crater was the highest point of the walk and afforded the best views, not to say that the views from any other point were substandard. Even more impressive was the steam coming out of the ground around the crater rim. I’d never seen anything like it and was amazed at how hot the ground was. More so, realising how much snow there was still about. The walk down from Red Crater was good fun, traveling a couple of metres with each step as the stones slid away under foot. Good fun but I can’t imagine the damage the 1000 or so per day walkers do.
We stopped for lunch by the beautiful Emerald Lakes, although still suffering from the afore mentioned dodgy stomach I didn’t eat anything. Not a bad effort, doing a 17km trek on only some coco pops and a single energy bar.
I continued to be amazed by the diversity and beauty of the walk as we reached Blue Lake Crater, yet another eruption site with the lake not looking so blue as it was near completely frozen.
The rest of the walk was a long steady descent through volcanic, then shrub and then wood land. Along with views of Lake Rotoaira and Lake Taupo, I was treated to the spectacle of concrete for path maintenance being flown in by helicopter. Once again transfixed on the skill and ability of pilot and machine. (Still waiting for that offer of sponsorship on my license, although I’m beginning to fear that I might have to settle on an Air Hogs Havoc Heli RTF which can be flown without one.)
The last stretch through the woodland seemed to drag on some having got the false impression that the walk was over after arriving at the tree line. Still, we eventually made the pick up point, very tired but happy, a good eight and a half hours after we set off.
The remainder of trip was spent around the geothermal hot spots of Lake Taupo and Rotarua. This really was quite bizarre, seeing the different fumeroles, bubbling mud pools, spewing giesers and vibrant colours generated from the minerals forced up through the earths crust. Of further interest was a massive Geothermal power station (renewable energy generation was of great interest to me at school) and a waterfall which, although only drops 10 metres or so, was impressive for the volumes of water gushing through it.
We finally had time for a brief peek at the Coromandel Peninsular before returning the van in Auckland and catching our flight onto Fiji. And so ended our trip in New Zealand. A truly incredible country with so much to see and do with a very familiar culture and good food. I could definitely live here and believe it or not even the rain was quite welcome giving me a chance to do nothing, relax, reflect, read and write. It is so easy to travel there especially with the freedom of a camper van. The place comes highly recommended and the only real negative I can think of is how far away it is from home.
Crossing the Southern Alpes via Authers Pass the change in weather was dramatic. From near continuous rain, crossing the pass, the clouds cleared and we were bathed in sunlight. We’d learned how the west coast receives some of the highest rainfall in the world and how this was caused be the weather coming in from the Tasman sea and hitting the mountains, but to see how it diminished so soon after crossing the pass was quite bizarre. Skipping some of the good treks around the pass due to the rain we instead tackled Helicopter Hill, starting in picturesque woodland gradually rising to shrub and rocky scree finishing with, much like many of the walks in this country, 360 degree views of mountains.
Enjoying yet more twisty mountainous roads we made our way North to Hanmer Springs. A small holiday village famous for the hot springs. The main attraction was a bit too Leisure Centre style for my liking, rather than natural pools, but moving between all the different “springs” was indeed very relaxing. As and added bonus we met a Spanish couple, Xavi & Gesela, from the Canary Islands while we were there.
With our South Island trip coming to an end we played a flying visit to Kaikora. New Zealand’s Whale Watching capital. The daily visits from Whales are attributed to a deep channel over 1km deep within 1km of the shore at Kaikora. The whole whale watching circus here seemed very commercial and we’d heard mixed reports of the experience. Having spent most of our money on scenic flights we decided to give it a miss, further justified by a fear of repeating our Hervey Bay experience. It wasn’t a completely wasted journey mind. The scenery around here was fantastic (I’m sure your bored of reading about scenic New Zealand is, but I really is special) helped by some great weather.
That night we headed south aiming for the Banks Penninsular with the intention of meeting some distant relations of mine. I’m really don’t understand what is what when it comes to relations terminology, but through my maternal grandmother, Rick Menzies, is my 2nd cousin once removed, making his son my 3rd cousin… I think. Regardless of the details, my mother and grandmother had visited the Menzies several years ago and a subsequent Christmas card to my mother had mentioned that any of her offspring who might happen to be travelling in that part of the world would be more than welcome to visit. I’m not one to pass up such invites and through the wonders of t’interweb we got in contact.
The Menzies live on the Banks Peninsular just south of Christchurch in a place called, check this out, Menzies bay. The Banks Peninsular is yet another beautiful part of the country, once again mountainous with huge inlets and bays which is actually a result of a huge volcano that has been eroded away of several million years. Something that becomes quite clear from aerial photos. There is a stunning summit road that winds its way along the ridge of the crater affording wonderful views. An added bonus for us was that as we were headed to visit relatives we took some routes that other tourists normally wouldn’t bother with. Every few minutes I was muttering “wow”, “check that out” etc in awe of the countryside unfolding in front of us.
Then we arrived in Menzies Bay at the end of a gravel road after crossing several valleys and bays was their farm and cottage looking down to the sea below with rolling green hills on all sides. We were made to feel immensely welcome and all my anxieties of staying with complete strangers (albeit related strangers) were alleviated as Espe and I immediately got on very well with Rick and Gaye.
We were treated to great food including freshly picked mussels from their new mussel farm followed by corned beef. A food that has nothing but bad press, probably due to the tinned “long life” varieties. I think was probably the first time I’d tried it and it was fantastic, helped of course by fresh vegitables and all the trimmings. A great English dinner.
Staying with them for a couple of days was fantastic. It was so relaxing in their ideally located cottage, exploring the surrounding hill sides and swapping travelling tales. Rick and Gaye are keen travellers and spent some time recently in South America. Rick has even travelled to Antarctica and we soon discovered a further common interest in photography.
I must take the opportunity to thank them both for putting us up. It was a pleasure to spend time there and get to know them a little. The cottage in the bay was idyllic and if it wasn’t for the fact that we had to get the rant a van back to Christchurch I’m sure a week could have slipped by unnoticed. Rick and Gaye ordered me not to put pictures of them up here, but don’t worry, I’ll sneak some into the Hall of Fame when they’re not looking.
