Al's Adventure: Part Six

Meet Al

Hi folks, my name's Al. I've taken up residence on Alex's travel blog as I made the decision to spend my inheritance on travelling the world for a few months, and I'll document my exploits from time to time as I go. Sometimes I'll be travelling alone, sometimes with friends, and sometimes just crashing at somebody's flat (cough Alex and Lachy cough) - it's going to be interesting, as I'm not one to often leave my comfort zone. My journey starts with a tour of the US, followed by some time in Fiji, a few weeks in Australia, and ends with a brief stint in New Zealand. Let's do this.

Part Six

Bula, my friends. That means hello in Fijian; and about a thousand other things, as they say it NON-STOP. I spent just under two weeks on this set of Pacific Ocean islands, and I'm pretty damn glad I did. When I arrived from LA, I'd missed the entire day of the 28th October due to crossing the international dateline 'backwards' so that means all of you had an extra day in your lives that I just never had. I've finally become a time traveller. I was too early to check in to my hostel, so I slept on a lounger by the beach until an old bloke told me what I really needed was a coconut. I cautiously followed him to his little coconut stash and then started my tropical lifestyle by drinking the juice with a straw. Some local guys came over and were adamant they snap a photo of me using my camera, making me feel like the biggest tourist in the world. Then I got overcharged for the coconut, so I guess I really am.

Every time I'd spent a bit too much in the USA, I told myself I'd make up for it in the cheap cheap land that is Fiji. Well, I was about to learn that the GOOD stuff in Fiji costs quite a bit. It ain't all white sand and clear waters; my hostel was next to a beach that wasn't winning any awards, and a town 10 minutes' drive away that didn't offer a whole lot except fruit. So I got stuck in this rut for a bit: hang around the hostel, living cheap but not really seeing Fiji, or splash out lots of cash to go and visit the islands that everyone thinks of when they picture this country. I hung around for a few days, sunbathing, eating, reading, playing table tennis, and making friends with Eleanor - a girl from London visiting Fiji for six weeks - and Johanus - as German as they come. Quick side note, Germans love travelling, they get everywhere. The day finally came where I boarded my speedboat ferry, and took off for the islands people come to Fiji to visit.

Island 1: Mana. We got the proper Pacific Ocean treatment when we arrived: walked off the boat through the clear water to the beach, whilst being serenaded by a guitar-wielding local before he placed a flower behind each of ears and offered us the mysterious 'welcome juice'. My time here was awesome; I sunbathed, ate the three included meals a day just metres from the sea, went snorkelling with some other travellers I met, the local kids danced for us (less sinister than it sounds, they weren't in chains or anything), the local adults sang a lot, we drank more kava, and played quite a lot of cards.

Island 2: Walolu. Eleanor had briefly seen our resort and said it was a real shithole, a crap beach mixed with a construction site - so our expectations were not high when we arrived. However, it turned out to be the nicest place we stayed at. We were upgraded to a private dorm (away from the herd of Australian surfers) and I could sit by the pool drinking on an outdoor bed - it doesn't get better, am I even backpacking anymore?! I noticed that the huge wad of cash I'd gotten out before island hopping had all been spent somehow, then I found out we had to pay a fortune for the meals there, so I jokingly complained about having no money to the manager. What followed was an insane decision by her to provide us with free meals for our stay, and THEN free cocktails all night because she felt so generous. The resort was putting on a big show for some travel agents that night, so I was also treated to crab racing - literally dumping a bucket of numbered hermit crabs on a table and betting on which one makes it to the edge first. Wooooo culture. Whilst staying here I also visited Cloud 9, a floating bar/pizzeria in the sea where you could just hop off and snorkel around. Trust me to choose the day when it's packed full of wedding party guests - even Grandma backflipped into the sea. I think.

Island 3: Beachcombers. The party island, apparently. A tiny little circle of sand and palm trees in the sea, we arrived here to a big old buffet lunch which suited us just fine. There weren't many people staying so there wasn't much of a party atmosphere (no matter how much the staff tried to make one: "anyone who wants to take part in the coconut relay, come to the dance floor now! Oh, nobody? Okay, it's cancelled." Just like that.) I fed some turtles, rode on a glass-bottomed boat over the coral, sunbathed, drank beer, the classics.

My time in Fiji ended at the cheap and cheerful hostel back on the mainland. I got a bit under the weather, praying to the Fijian gods that I hadn't caught Ebola (I still am to be honest), so it wasn't a very strenuous few days. I did, however, go to a Hindu temple in town, where they kitted me out with a dhoti around my waist and a bindi on my forehead; I caught a Hindu wedding which was cool -those guys know how to do stuff with pizazz. I've become a long-term guest at this hostel, so it's easy just to walk around and see people you know. Now here I am, saying goodbye to all the people I've met and to the SLOWEST COUNTRY ON EARTH. Seriously, everyone here is on Fiji time and just takes life easy; I've spent more time in a hammock here than I ever thought possible, and the biggest decision each day is what I should eat. Time to move on somewhere with a bit more energy: Melbourne.