I'm writing this from an internet shop in Fiji's capital city of Suva. It is also a populare video game center, and there is always a networked shoot-em-up game going on. With all the gunfire in the background, you would think someone had CNN on.
I've run across people who like Suva, and people who hate it. Personally, I think it is just fine. It has most of the conveniences that I need (internet access, restaurants, markets) but is still obviously not home.
Friday, 3/28
I packed off my stuff in preparation for leaving Rarotonga. I went snorkelling for a couple of hours in the afternoon--best yet.
Due to poor planning on my part, I pretty much lost a weekend--my flight left Friday night (so it's shot) and due to crossing the date line, I did not arrive until late Saturday night (so it's shot.)
After arriving in Nadi, Fiji, a wild ride brought me to my hotel. The room was nice, but as soon as I walked in, I heard the music blasting from the nightclub next door. I was pretty annoyed by this and almost walked back to reception to ask for another room. I decided I was too tired and didn't bother. I just chalked it up to "local color". And indeed, after a few minutes, I really got into the music. It seemed to be live, but was very good. By the time I got into bed, the music was over and I conked out immediately.
Sunday, 3/30
After I got up and showered, the church music started from across the street. It was really pretty cool.
One word pretty much sums up Nadi--"dump". It was a Sunday, so not much was going on. It didn't take long to get familiar with the routine of the touts: "Where are you from?" "How long have you been in Fiji?" "How long are you staying?" "Come to my shop/eat at my restaurant/do you want a 'smoke'?" At least the hookers were more direct.
Within an hour the rift between the Fijians and the Fiji-Indians was clear.
Monday, 3/31/03
I was going to stay in Nadi another night and chill, but instead I decided on the spur of the moment to go to one of the islands. I didn't have anything to go on except the word of the hotel tourist desk, so I was skeptical. It wasn't bad, though.
The island is Mana Island. It was small enough to walk around in under 2 hours. (Although I had to climb up and down a 20 foot cliff face to do this. It didn't help that I was wearing sandals.) The island had some nice beaches. It is also near the island were "Castaway" was filmed.The bunk house was disappointing--all of the dorm beds were in a single room, the showers didn't have shower heads. Livable, but not ideal. The people were cool--both the workers and the other guests.
The food was simple, but tasty--which was good since there were no other food options.
Over dinner, I got into a discussion about the war with a Portuguese guy. He made the comment that I have heard several times so far--the people outside the US get the impression that no one in the US is opposed to the war.The after-dinner entertainment the first night consisted of the school children from the village on the island singing for the guests.
Tuesday, 4/1
After breakfast, I got into a ridiculously heated discussion about CD price gouging. I went snorkelling in the afternoon, which was quite good.
The array of fish wasn't as good as the last day in Rarotonga, but the coral backdrop was very nice.The after dinner entertainment was a "Samoan" dance exhibition. If that was authentic Samoan dance, then Taco Bell is authentic Mexican food. We at least got to see a guy eat fire. We got stuck doing some stupid line dance afterwards. Groan.
Wednesday, 4/2
I went snorkelling in the morning, but the water was murky and visibility was low. I went back in the afternoon, but the water was too choppy to snorkel.
The after dinner entertainment was a hermit crab race. There was a crab for each country that had a guest in the hostel. Each of the crabs was named after a soccer player from the respective country, except for Sweden who had Bjorn Borg, and the US who had Britanny Spears for some reason that no one could figure out.Thursday, 4/3
I packed my stuff and took the 90 minute boat ride back to the main land. I was feeling woozy and had a headache by the time we hit the shore--my stomach was empty. There were 5 of us from the island headed for The Beachhouse on the Coral Coast of the main island. We were heading to the bus station to go there. Unfortunately, the shuttle van wouldn't hold us all, so they headed over in the first van load and I went in the next one. When I got to the bus station, they were not there.
I had foolishly expected there to be a schedule board, or ticket/information booth. There wasn't. So, there I was in a third-world bus station, with no clue what I was doing, all of my possessions on my back, no other tourists in sight. And I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it didn't bother me at all. Worst come to worst, I could just take a taxi--there were plenty hanging around. Instead, I just asked a couple of people if they knew which bus went to the required town, and after a little discussion and a few minutes wait, I was pointed to the appropriate bus.
It was a very relaxing ride, which took about 2 hours. We stopped at the bus station in one of the larger town for a 5 minute break. It was like a little market--people selling drinks, snacks, corn on the cob. If you didn't want to get off the bus to buy your snack, people would walk along the bus and sell you stuff through the windows.
The driver dropped me off at The Beachhouse. I checked in and had a look around. The facilities were very nice--my dorm room only had 5 beds and was spotless. The bathrooms were very nice, the beach looked quite inviting. The dining hall was immaculate. I didn't like it. The crowd there wasn't the laid back, "kick back on the veranda and have a conversation crowd." This was definitely a party spot. The surfer dudes pretty much epitomized the vacuous vibe that I was getting. Mind you, there were plenty of people there that seemed more like what I was hoping for, but they were the minority.
I ended up having a drink from the bowl of kava brewed by the queeny old couple. Kava is a drink native to Fiji. It is brewed like tea using a dried ground root. It has the same effect on your mouth as drinking a bottle of chloraseptic--it just goes numb. It reportedly mellows you out, and if you have enough of it, you get giggly and end up falling asleep. There is a whole ceremony to drinking kava, and it is all the rage with the local villagers.
At dinner, I found the other four people who came off the island with me. They heard that the next bus was at 4:00, so they had dinner in Nadi before catching the bus. I caught my bus about 45 minutes before they got theirs, even though they got to the bus station about 5 minutes before I did.
I ended up playing scrabble with a couple of people and retired early.
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