Gauging whether a social quirk or specific action embodies the culture of a person’s homeland or not has become a fun game I like to play. It’s not something I actively do every day as I think I’ve become a bit numb to any differences now. Where it used to take me a while to get used to a place or the people there, I almost adapt instantaneously. That, and the amount of crazy shit I’ve seen on my travels, means it takes a lot to shock me now!
Checking in to my room definitely gave me food for thought. The first time I stayed at the resort, I had a dorm room to myself which is a welcome rarity. This time I was told I had company but when I entered my room, it was completely vacant. The bedding was untouched and there was no luggage. I naively thought that I heard wrong and set my things down by a bottom bunk.
When you’re not allocated a specific bed, there is an unwritten rule of first come first served. Obvious, I know, but to ensure that everyone knows which beds have been taken, you need to place something on the bed. I previously made the mistake of leaving my luggage next to the bed but because there was nothing on the bed, someone dumped their stuff on it later in the day and I was demoted to a top bunk. Lesson learned.
I sorted out my day pack and scattered a series of random bits on the bed like territorial confetti and went to the lobby to use the internet. A while later I returned to find that two guys had checked into the room. All my stuff had been moved from the bottom bunk to the one above. Oh hell no!
One guy was in the bathroom but his friend was by the one other bottom bunk. I had no qualms in displaying my disdain at the matter in hand. The guy looked rather nervous and slightly scared. I felt like I was twice the guy’s size. He was a pocket-Asian.
In an attempt at a peace offer, the pocket-Asian moved his stuff to the top bunk and let me have his bed. His English wasn’t very good but he tried to make conversation asking me where I was from and so on. My heart melted slightly and I offered to go to reception to get some blankets for our beds. It still gets cold on a night and there wasn’t even a cover sheet.
It didn’t take long for me to fulfil my errand. I opened the room door with a tower of blankets balanced in one hand. I lowered them down to announce my return and froze for about ten seconds whilst my brain registered the sight that was before me.
Pocket-Asian was stood chatting to his tall tattooed friend who had just come out of the shower…naked. We both looked at each other in shock. He quickly turned to the side and cupped himself whilst I turned around and smothered my snigger with the blankets.
Normally, I would have put this down to ill timing but pocket-Asian knew I was going to get blankets and was going to be back within minutes. Surely he’d say to his mate that they have a female roommate and to grab a towel!
Later I found out that they are both Korean which is a first for me. Is this a typical welcome greeting in Korea? I doubt it but I had a funny inner monologue of how that would work.
Thankfully the guys covered up for the night. I set my alarm for stupid-o-clock the next day. I have one week of island hopping. Sun, sea, sand and snorkelling, yes please!
*****
Checking out and transferring to the marina was a piece of cake. I was expecting a delay or un-coordination of some kind but everything ran smoothly. I handed over my reservation slip and received a book of accommodation and activities vouchers along with a sulu (sarong) and a photo book. The voucher read Mr Lee Danielle. I sighed but it does make a change from Daniel at least.
There were two boats heading out to my first destination, South Sea Island. I took the first one out. The boats are really efficient and clear on what’s going on. Constant announcements meant that only an absolute simpleton would not get off at the right place.
When my stop was called I realised I was the only visitor. I was surrounded by staff members. This meant that I didn’t get a welcome song or bula welcome. They saved the good welcome for the next boat out. Oh well!
My room wasn’t ready yet so I left my stuff in the reception area and got straight down to some sunbathing. New Zealand’s icy winter has drained my tan. I want to get my glow back.
As the island is only 30 minutes from the mainland, a tonne of tourists come through for day trips. The staff were so friendly and accommodating and somehow manage to remember everyone’s names. The busy outset did dash my visions of secluded paradise as did the woman puffing smoke in my direction. Gross. I only stay on each island for two nights so I think the further up I go, the better.
Time passed by swiftly despite my descent into nothingness. A wonderful barbecue buffet lunch was served. I certainly filled my boots.
As all I’d done was lie down and catch some rays, I’d not really spoken to anybody and wasn’t really sure who to sit with. I placed myself on a bench in the shade. Moments later a girl sat beside me and two others followed. That was easy!
They were all Brits. Two were travelling and the other came out to visit them for a holiday. John and Beth had been to Australia and hated it more than I did! It was so refreshing talking to people who don’t bum Australia. They too preferred New Zealand and we swapped many stories.
Once my lunch had settled I sunbathed for a while and went snorkelling. I chuckled to myself as I awkwardly stomped into the ocean with flippers on. I took out my camera in the hope of getting some good footage but unfortunately the reef was dead and there wasn’t that many fish around. I thought I saw a reef shark before I went in but I didn’t see anything whilst out in the water. I’m still on the hunt for a snorkelling spot that rivals my experience in Ko Tao, (Thailand).
When I returned, one of the workers laughed at my pathetic nature and was surprised that I didn’t see any reef sharks. He offered to take me out to some of the best spots. Alarm bells rang instantly as I knew what Fijian guys are like but I wanted to see some reef sharks.
Instead, we actually went out sailing instead.
What do I hold on to exactly?
It was good fun but I kept forgetting his name. I still don’t remember it! I’m terrible. The worker offered to take me out snorkelling after dark. I’d never done a night dive before. I’ve heard great things from those that have done a night time scuba dive. Even though it might look like a sign that I’m interested in him, I took him up on his offer.
There was still the rest of the day to enjoy. I walked the circumference of the tiny island, which took around three minutes, and watched the sun set.
Afterwards I went to find the worker and got involved in a few games of beach volleyball. I’d not played since primary school. Like all sports I took part in at school, I was pretty good. I obviously haven’t aged well as there are a variety of sports now that I can’t handle. I didn’t do too badly.
Worn out by the activities of the day, I went for a lie down. Just before dinner was served, the heavens opened and a massive downpour engulfed the island. It ruined any plans of games or what-not for the evening ahead. I wondered whether this affected my night-snorkelling trip too.
The small group of us left over after the day trippers departed stuck around for a bit but conversation soon ran dry. One person suggested moving out to a sheltered bench on the beach. As everyone moved off, I quickly slipped away. I grabbed my things and headed out to the meeting place we arranged.
Our night snorkel was still on. Armed with giant torches we headed into the ocean to see what is lurks in the sea at night. The worker was armed with a hunting spear. I grabbed his arm for support and to ensure he doesn’t swim off and leave me!
As we swam out, we saw the odd fish but nothing dramatic. The worker speared a fish and kept it with us to attract the sharks. I started to get a bit worried. I just want to see small harmless reef sharks.
Although we didn’t see any sharks in the end, we saw a ray, plenty of star fish and I held a sea cucumber (again).
Somehow, the worker managed to spot an octopus. He speared it and brought it across for me to stroke. It felt like jelly. The worker proffered a tentacle for me to stroke. Before I knew it, I had an octopus climbing up my arm. The puckers sunk into my skin and the worker had to rip it off violently like a two day old plaster. It only pinched slightly.
We returned to the beach and my attempt at sneaking into the room failed. A few people were already in bed. I didn’t even bother lying although my story about the octopus made me sound like a loon. After so many months travelling, have I really become that crazy person everyone avoids in a dorm?
No comments:
Post a Comment