So we got off the plane in a very green and luscious looking Fiji to be greeted instantly by two things. The long forgotten feeling of heat and a traditional Bula band belting out traditional hits. Next up was a huge line of people queuing to have their documents checked by customs but this being Fiji things were definitely going in 'Fiji time'. It took an hour to get through customs, but at least everything was done with a smile, which kind of makes up for the lack of any kind of swiftness i suppose.
Our accomodation, The Beachouse, was on the south of the main Island Vitu Levu so we would have to take a long, slow journey by local bus. In the end it took two and a half hours but we did manage to meet three Manchester lads who helped to pass the time as well as watching a documentary on the in-bus tv about what would happen if humans disappeared. Interesting choice...
When we got to the Beachouse we were already impressed by it's size, it was a big complex that consisted of a few dormitories, a big decked pool area, beautiful beach and traditional Fijian beach bungalows, which we had. Apparently it was where they filmed 'Celebrity Love Island' which, even though I hate to admit it, can remember a tiny bit of. either way, the place was about as 'backpacker' as it is possible to get, which suited us down to the ground, I.e things were relatively cheap.
Although it was warm it certainly wasn't meltingly hot as we had expected it to be and the wind, which was pretty much blowing over the palms, was just so strong. Even so, we braved the elements to sunbathe the next day on giant hammocks tied to two cocunut trees. The beach itself, at high tide anyway, is stunning, as you can probably make out from the picture above but apparently, in terms of Fiji's beaches, it's a bit second rate (cant wait to find first rate).
It does feel strange though, both shell and I feel as though we should be moving, or at least be putting more money on the parking meter. Even sleeping as been hard. 2 months in a metal box has rendered us useless gypsies, unable to cope with the permanent world.
On our second night we were invited to the local village by a couple of the staff to meet the local rugby team and take part in a traditional Kava ceremony. Apparently the local rugby team had got through to the final of one of the islands main cup competitions where the winners would receive over 4000 Fijian dollars. Eddie, who invited us over to the village, sat us down with many other villagers on the floor of a largish community hall around a large metal dish. After some general chit-chat with very friendly locals we were passed round our first coconut cup of Kava. The liquid, rung from a tight muslin cloth created a grainy, semi thick substance that was dark grey in appearance. All in all they passed the cup around about seven times by which time the relaxing feeling and numbness of the mouth had started to take effect. They say it is mildly narcotic but we hardly felt a thing other than a feeling in the stomach that only comes with knocking back a litre of murky water. To be invited to the ceremony was a special feeling and mixed in with the general easy going nature of the locals was already a humbling experience.
A couple of days later, after me, shell and the Manchester lads ploughed through a large bottle of Bounty Rum the night before, it was the day of the big game. Feeling quietly horrific from the night before I left shell behind to recover on the beach whilst me, and five other lads made the long walk down the hill into the next village to wait for our 'minibus'. Chuta, an old guy who works at the beachouse, had been pestering us for days about booking some kind of transport to the game and after his initial whacky quote of 50 dollars each, finally settled for a more realistic 20. When we got there, we could see essentially the entire village piling laboriously into the back of what can only be described as a colourful old army truck. From past experience, especially Asian, I think we all knew what we would be getting into. The pictures in our head of an air conditioned ford transit vanished within seconds. The van itself had room for maybe 15 people but after we were literally shoved in the back i think the number was actually about 60, not to mention baskets full of food and lots and lots of children.
The journey, we were told, would take three hours. One hour along a real road to the next big town along the coast, Sigatoka, plus two hours inland along an as yet complete dirt track. The second half, as you might expect, was sheer Torture. I managed to get the best 'area' with my head stuck out of the back of the van but with a small Indian man sat in between my legs with his head faced towards my groin. He didn't seem to mind though. Even though after every bump his face crept a millimetre or two closer towards my special place.
Upon arriving, I don't think you have ever seen six lads look as pleased to see an overgrown rugby pitch. At least the locals accepted us as lucky mascots for the Blues, the village side we had come to represent.
In a scene like something from an old African tribal movie we were given seats next to the manager and players whilst the villagers, in their hundreds, stood behind specially placed ropes. The game itself was a whitewash and ended 27-5 to the Blues, the team we were supporting. They were absolutely breathtaking, lightning quick and as strong as bulls. After the winning team had been handed the cup we thought, stupidly, that we would be making the long journey back. Instead we were first walked down to a village a further mile down the road where people came out from everywhere (hedges, houses, sheds) to greet us with the now familiar bula!
We were taken into another large village hall where we were sat down whilst many different men slowly poured in to take their rightful positions cross-legged on the floor. After about half an hour of sitting in silence they started another Kava ceremony. This was more poignant as they were essentially having a post-match pint with the opposition on their patch. After a couple of rounds of Kava we were then told to go and eat with the team who had gathered over the road where women hovered around dishing out boiled cassava (like a potato) and a river fish that I can't remember the name of but which tasted like Sea Bass. It really was delicious stuff but with not a light to be seen anywhere, it could have been rotten leftovers for all we knew.
In all honesty, such levels of hospitality depressingly leave you with that Westerner thinking of 'what are they trying to get out of us?? Annoyingly that's just how it is but here strangers and tourists are treated like gifts from god and ask nothing in return from you.
If the way up there was tortuous then the journey back was just totally insane. By this point it was getting late and we wanted to get back so without hesitation they put us on the team bus. Well, this was a team that had just won one of the countries biggest rugby cups with a prize fund to be shared out equally which meant the loudest bus journey I have ever heard. The bus was packed and stopped every twenty minutes so that the team could pile out and stock up on this White spirit mixture which was in old milk cartons which they told us was 'Fijian brew', it tasted like turps.
Added to this was music so loud it made your teeth chatter even though they only had six songs. Six songs on loop for four hours! By the time they dropped us off we were twenty minutes away from going insane but despite this the lads treated us like friends and were accepted with constant high fives and yet more mentholated spirit. I know we may have moaned a little throughout the day but let's face it, these are the stories and the days in which you will always remember.
For the past few days we have been taking advantage of the beautiful weather to sunbathe on the White sand beach and making good use of the free use of kayaks and afternoon tea! It's a nice touch having afternoon tea but it's a little like watching piglets jostling for milk. Still, the tans are making a startling comeback so the shallow sides if us are content once more!
Anyway, we have another week here in Fiji before that epic journey over to LA so I think we are going to leave the beachouse to try somewhere a bit further around the coast to mix it up a little.
From the most laid back country in the world, Bula!!
Xxxx
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