ake

was to Fiji… off the top of my head I can’t recall what year it was but it was in between two of the coups… random memories I have of this holiday are:

• BULA!!! usually from a wildly grinning local who’s just snuck up behind you

• the same wild grin while they delight in telling you about their history of cannibalism (hence the little forks sold in souvenir shops specifically for the eating of brains)

• being interrupted from our first beach exploration by a fijian sporting one tooth and a machete, which he waved around as he rambled something our little mono-lingual brains had no chance of understanding (besides which my then boyfriend looked like his brain was more busy calculating whether he could outrun a man weilding a very large knife, while mine was calling on all my performing abilities to remain calm, greet this gentleman politely and pretended to understand what he was saying)

• a numb tongue from drinking kava (not unlike slurping mud with narcotic effects) and learning the fiji shuffle on dance night in the village (where i got to dance with the same chap we met on the beach earlier!)

• my first experiences of being haggled (browsing means buying)

• everyone insisting we discuss rugby at length when they found we were from New Zealand

• a very lethargic game of volleyball with the village lads (i’m thinking too much kava for them!)

• coral cuts on my feet despite wearing reef shoes (what the hell were we doing walking on it anyway???)

• tourists from the northern hemisphere bemoaning the poverty of fiji for the same reasons we admired their simplicity of life – corrugated iron is a familiar building material to kiwis and i still have my sunhat & matching basket made from palm leaves :)

• a loud american wearing sandles with knee-high white socks informing his wife that i was bound to get sunburnt in such a resonance that the whole restaurant was imparted with his prediction (the embarrassment would’ve been enough to send me red if not for the smug confidence i had in my pump action SPF30!)

• an illprepared english tourist (we’re talking 10ml prescription bottle of SPF10 here folks!) the first to fall victim to a nasty sunburn that would’ve had a bull on the charge

• a cute little hyperactive excuse for a puppy named Bart being rescued from an uncertain future of food scraps and disease by a kind-hearted gentleman sponsoring his immigration to the US

and of course all the usual island treats you’d expect – delicious fresh fruit and fish, huge luscious tropical plants, golden sand, warm (albeit hazardous) sun, crystal clear water and cute little fishies :)

just to repeat my plea from 43T: what are the cheapest options for getting here from Toronto? any advice much appreciated!! :)