Here's One I Made Earlier

Blue Peter wasn’t necessary a staple in the Lee household growing up but it certainly had a strong presence within the era I grew up in. I caught the back-end of the desperate struggle to gain the prestigious Blue Peter badge.

For the non-Brits out there, Blue Peter is a long-running children’s television show. Another synonymous part of Blue Peter was the crafts section. Before the days of compulsory recycling, there was a different way to make use of finished toilet rolls, cereal boxes and ice lolly sticks.

A chirpy BP presenter would cut, fold and stick an amalgamation of crap together and start dousing it in papier mache. It would barely hold together and you'd squint and turn your head from side to side in a fruitless attempt to recognise what the hell they were making.

But fear not, the infamous words – “Here’s one we made earlier” – would emanate from their pearly whites and there you have it. Instead of a sloppy mountain of masking tape and watery paper, you have a perfectly moulded model of some sort.

Naïve children were lead to believe that this presenter spent minutes magically creating a masterpiece. I’m sure many kids tried and failed to make the Thunderbirds model, Tracy Island. This is the famous episode that most people recognise. It was a bit before my time but even I remember that one.

Many times in my travels I’ve wanted to say those words. Here’s a spectacular itinerary I made earlier. Instead, I stumble about blindly not necessarily thinking things through and consistently cut corners to save money. Why would anyone want to fly from Phuket to Kuala Lumpur when you can take a 24 hour bus ride? I’ve saved a tenner, I win!

There have been plenty of moments where I wish I had the gift of hindsight but then that would be boring. If I did catch a train or flight to Kuala Lumpur I would never have met Mel and Steff. They are more like extended family to me. We’ve been through so much together and have witnessed every angle of our personalities and have come through it all smiling and stronger than ever. It’s a flaming miracle and a wonderful one at that.

Fiji wasn't necessarily my Tracy Island but I probably should have thought twice about squeezing a five hour boat ride, ten hour flight and three hour train ride into one day.

*****

Brains of Britain here decided to have a heavy drinking session the night before a cave trip. That’s exactly what my hangover needed!

At least Amy and Amelia were in the same boat as me and felt equally rotten. We could crawl our way through this day together.

Alas, things are never that simple. As my caves trip came in voucher form through the package that I booked, I ended up going through a different company. Ridiculous seen as the resort offered exactly the same trip. Why not pay them instead of this rival company?

 

Amy and Amelia went off with the Coral View crew and me and two others stayed. We hung around for an hour until the boat arrived. My inner monologue ticked over what I could have done with that precious wasted hour. 

We weren’t the only ones left waiting. The boat made three stops to different resorts picking up random travellers. The others would be in and out of the caves by the time we got there!

A bumpy boat ride is not the cure for a hangover but a cause of one sore arse! All our arses collectively slammed into the wooden slats of the boat as we clung to each other for dear life. It’s not like there was anything else to hold on to! I decided that today was hug a stranger day.

Soaking wet and slightly bruised, we arrived at the Sawa-I-Lau cave entrance. The tour leader asked for $5 in exchange for snorkel goggles. I had no idea what I’d want to see underwater in a dark cave but was told it’s a necessity.

In my hangover-induced-wisdom, I brought my cloth handbag. My stuff was soaked but I managed to scrape out enough money to hand to the leader. I didn’t think anybody would want to steal my sorry-looking bag, so left it on the boat.

Teams of tourists packed up the stairs and entered the caves. Herded in like a sheep, I plopped into the water and feebly doggy-paddled (in fear of colliding with the jutting rocks that surrounded me) in the direction of others heading towards the light. It was as eerie as it sounds.

Charming!

Collectively everyone shrugged, “Now what?” as we tread water. Some nutters climbed up the side of the cave and jumped. No thanks.

Little did I know, I had my own daredevil stunt that I had to perform. To venture further into the caves, you had to swim through an underwater tunnel. Holy moly. I seemed to be the only one unnerved by this.

One by one, swimmers bobbed under the water and never came back up again. I’m going to die. I’m going to bash my head on a rock and run out of breath. Water is going to gush through to my lungs and I’m going to suffocate. I couldn’t tell if I was quivering in fear or from the cooling water temperature.

A woman from the resort talked me through it and took my camera so I had both hands free. Everyone said you’re under water for a few seconds. I can handle that. I practised holding my breath and counted to ten. I can do this. I moved forward and joined the queue.

Clinging to the rock face before the tunnel, I psyched myself up. I jumped out of a flipping plane and I’m worried about a bit of water. Man up! I grabbed a rope chained to the wall and pulled myself forward. The guide explained that once I go under, all I need to do is swim towards the light. The snorkel goggles make sense now.

This all sounds simple enough, nothing to worry about. One…two…eee…three…

For some reason I couldn’t sink. You’d think after all the cake and, more recently, waffles I’d eaten I’d sink to the ground like an anchor. Was I running out of breath already? I looked forward and could see a bright light. Am I dying? No wait, the guy said to swim towards the light. This is not heaven, this is a cave. I moved forward through the tunnel with a helpful shove in the side from the guide. This force propelled me forward like a torpedo and I flew forward. I flapped around for a bit. This has been more than a few seconds. Lying bastards.

Still moving forward, where the heck am I? I could feel my breath escaping but knew that panicking would not help. I stretched my arms forward as far as possible and kicked my legs. I felt something lock around my arm and wrench me forward. It was the light. 

God? I didn’t actually mutter those words but I was thankful to whoever is watching over me. It was a guide who grabbed me and pulled me up to the surface. Thanks to the snorkel goggle, I had no water up my nose. I just gasped and flapped for a few seconds like a trout on a fisherman’s deck.

It was so dark that nobody could see my pathetic prancing. The woman from Coral View was there already with my camera and I breezily covered my trembling with confident utterances. I was fine, it was fine. Deep down I gulped uneasily as I knew that the same journey awaited me.

A handful of us were guided around and told a couple of legends about the caves. I couldn’t hear a thing. I had a quick look around followed by a few “oos” and “ahs” then it was time to head back. Already!? I zoned out and imagined myself living in the caves. I don't have to go back. My thought train was interrupted as I started playing out my evolutionary progression in adopting gills. Alright, alright, I’m coming. I left my daydream and my fear back in the cave as I dived under and back through to the other side. I knew there was a guy waiting to pull me through so I wasn’t scared.

To prevent any collisions, we took a different route back to the caves. This tunnel was a lot narrower but my arse just about squeezed through. Ok, I’m ready to leave now. The caves were interesting enough but paddling around in murky water dodging tourists wasn’t my idea of fun. My waterproof watch told me that I’d be cutting it fine in getting back to the resort and departing on my boat back to Nadi.

Villagers greeted us as we exited and ushered us over to their market stalls. It was all the same crafts and jewellery that I’d seen countless times. I’d already bought a cannibal fork and a coconut hair clip from my Fijian family in Namatakula so I was sorted. As much as I wanted to help the villagers, I didn’t want to be carrying around too many nik-naks.

Normally the journey back is quicker but this boat ride was taking forever. I needed a shower, have some food, check out properly and say goodbye to everyone. By the time we got back to the resort, I had 45 minutes. Mustering up my inner Usain Bolt, I sprinted to reception and rented a towel. I ignored the rule of using the reception toilets and showers and dashed back to my room and used the nicer ones there. I threw on the things I hastily grabbed from my suitcase in reception.

Lunch was ready and waiting. I piled my plate up and sat down. Everyone had already finished. I devoured my meal like a prisoner after hunger strike. This spicy sweet pumpkin dish was so delicious I had to go up for seconds. I can eat and say goodbye surely?

As I started up on round two, a worker came across and asked me if I was going to check out. Like a pupil being told off by their Headmaster, I uncomfortably stirred in my seat. Food will have to wait. I got up and handed my bank card to settle the bill and went back to my plate. This is Fiji, there is no chip and pin here. It takes a good few minutes to process a payment. 

Moments later, the worker came back over and told me my card had been declined. Ha…what? This did not look good. I was checking out late and I seemed more interested in pumpkin than paying. I’m not surprised the worker thought I was trying to pull a fast one. I explained that I did not have any other cards. The worker suggested trying it again as there is the slight chance that they got the card number wrong.

Within the melee, Emma and a couple of others came over all smiles, ready to embrace and say goodbye. My eyes welled up and their smiles faded. After asking what was wrong I went on a massive tirade about the awkward caves trip which meant that I didn’t have enough to do everything that I wanted to. I had less than ten minutes and I’d not seen anyone to say goodbye to. I hate being rushed. What’s more, my card has been declined so I might not even get to leave the island!

Emma calmed me down and said everything will be ok. I knew it would be but I was still worked up. I have no idea why. I’ve spent the past two weeks (maybe even longer) drifting past life’s stressors and enjoying my trip. For some reason, today I flipped. I had no pristine Tracy Island model to present whilst sweeping the gloopy mess of my first attempt to one side.

Suddenly the worker cropped up again all blushes and smiles saying my card went through. Hooray! I spooned the last remnants of pumpkin into my mouth, gathered my things and hugged everyone goodbye. I had time to swap details with those I cared about and waited outside for the boat. The lovely workers at Coral View placed a floral necklace around each of our necks and sang us the goodbye song. Even though everything had been lovely at Coral View, I was ready to leave. Two weeks had definitely been enough Fiji for me. I craved the chaos and craziness of America.

 Amelia, me and Amy

 Me and Emma

Angela, Amy, Amelia and I left for our very long boat ride. I was the only one going back to the mainland. I had five hours to burn. Nature programmes and a documentary on Captain Cook averted my boredom.

When I arrived at the last stop, I needed to find my free airport transfer. Before I could do that though, I needed to buy and write postcards as well as find a post office to send them. Yes, I left everything to the last minute. There was a postal service on South Sea Island but nothing for the rest of the way. I hurriedly found some pretty and funny postcards to send to my intended recipients and wrote down some rushed words that I hoped made sense. Luckily the post office was open and I sent them off without too much hassle.

My luggage was left unclaimed. When I went back to the docking bay, I found my suitcase resting in the middle of a pathway prime for the taking. A thief could try and take it but I doubt they’d want 23 kilos of crap. I literally have nothing of worth in my suitcase. In fact, they’d be doing me a favour. I’d claim on the insurance and buy a new wardrobe!

Instead, I lugged the Beast’s elder sister to the car park where I found my coach transfer to the airport. 

Checking in was a breeze and I had time to kill. I ate a grotty burger and undercooked chips whilst watching Fast and Furious on my notebook. I didn’t have time to finish the film unfortunately.

Whilst boarding the plane my mood shifted up a notch as I saw that the chairs had television screens in the back of them. This was short-lived as the picture quality was terrible and the films weren’t optional. I missed the beginning of The Vow as I channel hopped checking out what other films were playing. I was that bored, I even tried to sleep, something that’s impossible for me on public transport. 

Finally I arrived in America. Let the fun times begin!

Karma In Cocktail Form

My fragmented sleep from the previous night was pacified by waffles in the morning. Damn good waffles I hasten to add. Breakfast at Coral View was incredible. Coconut syrup is the shizzle (can I pull that off? It’s too late now!). I ate well, very well.

It set me up for a very long and tiresome day. I had to get up and walk ten metres to the nearest sunbed. I was exhausted. I heaved myself up onto the wooden bed and rested for an indeterminable period of time.

Lunch came and went. I met Emma again and I told her how awesome Coral View is. We swapped a couple of island stories and I left her to settle in.

If sunbathing wasn’t enough torture, I booked a traditional Fijian massage. Amy and Amelia went before me so I had some time to kill. After we booked our massages we met Nico who runs the resort. He showed us a video of a shark feeding dive they have recently introduced. It looked like an amazing experience but I think I’d crap myself with all those huge sharks swimming around me. It’s a cage-less dive by the way. You just stand there and cling to a rope attached to the boat whilst these massive intimidating sharks swim around you. Everyone on the video seemed to be enjoying it though!

Nico filmed it on his GoPro camera and we had a little tech-chat as I have the same camera. He bashfully admitted that last night the guys failed to film the culture night as the camera wasn’t switched on. As Nico starred in the performances, he relied on another worker to film it. It was something like the third time he tried it and still he has no footage. Nico is trying to heavily promote the resort and the videos would be perfect for his website.

Although my videos weren’t perfect as they were filmed on my other camera, I offered him my footage. He gratefully accepted. I agreed to come back and hand him the footage but I fell asleep. By the time I made it across he too had gone for a rest. It seems that island life really does take it out of you.

It was time for my massage. I thought one hour was enough of an oily workout. I didn’t want to push my luck.

Satisfyingly relaxed, I smelled like a cross between a bouquet and a coconut. As lovely as that sounds I was too greasy. I showered off and changed for dinner. I don’t know how I found the energy.

In serious need of refuelling, I made my way down to the dining area for dinner. A lovely stir fry greeted me along with those circular doughy treats. I needed something sweet though. Emma agreed with me so we nipped across to the corner shop. It sold all types of wares including some interesting body spray.

Bondage pour homme and pour femme

It was cake we were after and cake that we found, cheesecake to be precise. Our server asked if we’d like ice cream too. I never thought about that, why not, I’m not driving! It was great to finally have a cake buddy.

Emma and I strutted back triumphantly with our cakes as a few people looked at us agog. I’m pretty sure it was more of a surprised reaction that we still had room to eat cake but I’d still like to think there was an edge of jealousy there too.

Normally I can devour the biggest of cake slices but cheesecake is a different story. Sometimes it can be a bit too rich for me and this one defeated me. Emma had to help me out. Is it possible that there is somebody out there who eats more cake than me? Although I’m not sure I’d be able to find someone who has eaten a two foot slab of chocolate cake in a couple of weeks! I am the boss of cake eating.

Whilst chowing down, I spotted Nico and apologised for not coming straight back. He didn’t seem bothered about that at all and was entirely grateful for me giving him my footage. He brought out his laptop and I showed him what I had. It wasn’t the entire show of course, but I guess it was better than nothing. Nico might not even use it but at the very least he could pull some photos from it. With the exchange complete, I returned to my friends and waited to see what tonight’s events were.

Last night was cultural night, tonight was game night. Please not another snake dance, skippedy-skip and pass the pole bollocks. At least we had a choice, cutesy games or drinking games. A few roars emitted for the latter and there we had it, drinking games it was. There was one problem though…I didn’t have a drink and I was running out of cash.

Nico came over and asked if I was joining in but I shrugged and said I have no drink. For helping him out earlier, he said I could have any drink on the house.

Good karma of the fruity cocktail variety

To get us off to a flying start, we played Ring of Fire/King’s Cup. Nico and Mr T (chief entertainment co-ordinator) wrote down all the rules which cut out all the dithering about that usually comes at the beginning of a drinking game.

I wasn’t alone in thinking that these rules were the funniest ever. One rule was box head. Whoever picks up the card relating to box head had to wear a box on their head until the next person picks up that numbered card. Also, box head gets a lot of abuse. You can whack the side of the box and shout harsh things at them. All in good jest though of course!

Another one was called Stephen Hawking which sounded bizarre to begin with but was absolutely hilarious. Whoever draws that card can’t move, talk or drink. The person next to them has to help them out with their drinking.

"Stephen" was so thirsty it took three people to help out!

What made this even better was that another card was named grenade. When a person draws that number, at any time they can shout grenade which means you have to dive under the table as quickly as possible. The last person to do this has to drink. I’m sure you can picture the hassle that that caused trying to get “Stephen” under the table!

Naturally, I lost. It was down to two cards and I already announced to everyone that I would pick the king. It always happens. Perhaps a bit of positive thinking could have changed my fate but never mind. Cue more flashbacks from Thailand!

I have videos of this floating somewhere in cyberland

This was only the beginning. We played random games that I did not understand whatsoever with cards. We had games involving clapping and gestures which was good fun as everyone kept forgetting things. The games got slightly dirtier and the language more colourful.

We moved on to flip-cup. We split into teams. The person at the top tips in some drink into the cup. The game starts and the person downs the drink and turns over the cup so it’s partially balanced over the edge of the table. The aim is to flick the cup over so it spins and lands back upright again. Once this has been achieved you pass the cup down to the next person. The last person in your team (at the end of the table) pours in their drink, downs it and then flicks the cup. It then passes along back up to the team leader. When the person at the top flicks the cup upright again, that group is the winner.

Unfortunately I’d run out of drink. I said to Nico that I had beers in the fridge but I couldn't have them until checkout (alcohol from the outside world is not permitted in the resort). Nico made an exception and I was back on the booze. The King’s Cup had already kicked in though and I was a giggly mess.

Nico and I were the heads of our teams. Naturally we kicked arse. After each win, the victorious team gets to inflict a forfeit upon the losing team. We decided to go easy on them the first time and asked that they play the rest of the games topless. Strangely this didn’t go down too well with the girls even though they were wearing bras/bikinis. Whoops.

Seen as nakedness was out of the question, after the next win we decided that the guys should give the girls a lap dance. Yes I have a video, no I’m not putting it up on here!

We were stumped after our third victory. We weren’t expecting to win this many times. Mr T cheekily suggested getting the others to skinny dip in the sea. They did that to a group on a different night. After the reaction we got when we asked the others to take their tops off, we decided not to annoy everyone and someone came up with the idea of making them pile on top of each other.

 Pile on!

Another win and a weak dare that I can’t even remember! The game wasn’t getting old and we carried on. Uh-oh. The other team won. Shit. They’re going to torture us now. I was expecting something bad but I wasn’t sure what. The cheeky gits gave us the skinny dipping forfeit! I protested and told them that we held back but they were very sore losers so of course they saw no reason. They wanted revenge. So off we went for our little late night naked dip in the sea. I hope there are no videos or photos of this event!

It was nearing 3am and I just remembered that I’m visiting the caves tomorrow. Oh dear. I need some shut-eye. Everyone else looked pretty beat too. We stopped the games and stayed up for a little while longer chatting but decided to call it a night. I think the guys behind the bar were happy that they could go to bed.

Most of the people had left our dorm during the day (including the Canadians) so there was only me, Emma and another guy. We didn’t have to worry about making too much noise or refrain from switching the main light on. My head torch from Fuji-San has come in mighty useful in that regards. Who knew?

All that booze knocked me out and it didn’t take me long to nod off. Of course it did help that there was no hawking (as in the loud pre-spit sound, not "Stephen"!). Part of me was sad to be leaving Fiji the next day but I was unbelievably excited for America. I don’t know why but I just had a feeling that I was going to have a great time there.

Fish Are Friends, Not Food

My Korovou experience was soon to be over and Coral View would be my next home for the following two nights. I couldn’t help but quiver at the similarity in sound and wondered what awaited me.

Thankfully breakfast was the only meal I had on departure day. I don’t think I quite got over the peas and carrots incident of the previous day. So much so, that I failed to mention it in my previous post.

Ready and waiting, practically drooling at the thought of food (of some description) being presented, my heart skipped when I realised it was pizza. Hardly a traditional Fijian dish but I like pizza so what could go wrong?

One slice was placed in front of me. No, not a New York standard slice, a kid’s individual pizza style slice. Damn I sound ungrateful. There are people starving in the world and I’m getting grouchy over portion sizes. Truth is, I get ratty when I’m hungry. Shameful? Yes. Preventable? Unlikely. People better watch themselves around me when I’m deprived of sleep or food.

Like the fish dish of the first night, the food barely touched the sides of my mouth before being swallowed. It was only after my first mouthful that I realised what was actually on the pizza - chicken, tomato base, cheese, peas and carrots. It was like two recipes had glued together (yes I’m thinking of the Friends episode with Rachel’s trifle).

With my sole slice obliterated in three bites, I asked for more. At first I was hesitant and didn’t want to create some sort of Oliver Twist moment. The last thing I wanted to do was offend people even though the repeated proffers, “More food! More food!” still rang in my ears from my village stay. Things worked differently here. Amy and Amelia reassured me that it’s ok, just ask.

Like the fatty in the class, I had to wait until everyone had eaten so they could see if there were any slices leftover for me. I wasn’t embarrassed by that point. In all seriousness, I rarely get embarrassed when it comes to food. I love food and I love to eat. Sometimes that can be misconstrued as greediness but I don’t really give a shit, ha!

So there were no peas and carrots waiting for me at lunch, instead I boarded a boat with a few others destined for Coral View.

A couple on the boat jovially informed us that Coral View is fantastic and I’d have a brilliant time. They seemed of sound mind so I was hopeful.

We received another sing-song welcome and a fruity beverage. This stuff never gets old. Every staff member shook our hand too. It sounds like a small and insignificant gesture but at the time it felt wonderful. It was as if everyone there were thankful for us to be staying at their resort.

Before we made our way up to the main building, we rinsed our feet of sand. This isn’t something I’ve encountered since South Sea Island. This element of thoroughness was a good sign!

We walked through to the dining area and took a seat. We received an official welcome and a brief introduction to how the resort works and what activities are available. Afterwards we were treated to another welcome song and dance.

Lunch was instantly served afterwards in the form of a buffet. Checking in can wait apparently. Well you can imagine the grin that sprang up on my face. I was a chubby Cheshire cat after I ate and ate. The miniature bread rolls were like drops of doughy heaven. There was rice and noodles as well as two meat options (in sauce). My stomach is growling as I type this and remember the food at that place…ahhhh.

Checking in was a simple process and I spotted a laundry service that was available to guests. I cringed at the thought of my two week old washing that resided in my case. I’ve had the clothes placed in a carrier bag and encased in a shopping holdall to protect my nice clean clothes. This is not by choice I hasten to add, there had been no opportunity up until then to do laundry. I didn’t want to hand wash my clothes as they ruin and I’m a tight arse. I don’t want to buy new clothes unnecessarily. Thankfully the beautiful Fijian weather allowed me to live in my bikinis so going commando wasn’t an option I needed to consider.

A female worker helped me carry my things to my room. The surrounding area was so peaceful and quiet and the day beautifully sunny. I was very happy.

My dorm room was simple, clean and spacious. The shower rooms, toilets and sinks looked usable! Each bed was cordoned off by a short concrete wall. I also got my very own power point. I whacked my camera on charge straight away.

Glancing around, I saw that the dorm was fully occupied and recognised Heather and Sacha’s things across from me. I wondered how they were getting on.

With my stuff safely locked away, I went for a wander. I found Sacha and Heather sunbathing and had a stiff conversation with them. I left them to it and walked through to the activities centre and found Amy and Amelia eyeing up the chalk board list of excursions.

We each had a voucher for a snorkelling trip which was about to embark. We managed to secure places on the trip. I ran and got my things and returned to pick up my snorkelling gear. Again, I had to pay extra for hiring a snorkel. I had to do the same at Manta Ray. Full Monty package my arse!

To my amusement, we gate-crashed the Blue Lagoon trip as they were originally going to take one couple out. Sorry! We didn’t really speak to them much but got chatting to a lovely Canadian girl. Angela is travelling indefinitely as she has left two businesses she owns in the hands of her manager. Angela dives and wants to hit as many breath-taking spots around the world as possible. What a life! Oh, and Angela is younger than me. It does make me wonder what the hell I’ve been doing with my life!

Blue Lagoon came as a welcome distraction. It’s also the name of a film (The Blue Lagoon) I haven’t seen before. I don’t even know what it’s about but I know we’re going to a lagoon that is blue and it should have some fish there to gawp at. Sounds like a good time to me.

A Coral View worker took us out to the lagoon. On the surface it didn’t look that special. I dropped into the water, adjusted my snorkel and submerged my face.

That was a surprise. I couldn’t believe how many fish there were. Now this is what snorkelling in Thailand was like. In Koh Tao there were fish everywhere and they had no problems in swimming right up to you.

These fish were very cheeky and weren’t camera shy.

Some nipped and poked at me. The drawstrings on my swim shorts looked pretty tasty in their eyes.

Like many other places that I have snorkelled in, the coral was significantly damaged which was such a shame. Every now and then a vibrant colour peeped out from the dull coral but it was a rare sight.

There weren’t that many types of fish in the lagoon but there were plenty of them to make this a worthy trip. We even spotted an octopus. After my encounter in South Sea Island, I felt ok swimming up to it. I couldn’t see it at first. I saw a giant piece of coral change colour and then realised that it wasn’t coral but a massive octopus. It was ten times bigger than the one I saw at SSI. I tried taking some footage of it but it kept bobbing up and down within the coral so it still looked camouflaged. It was an incredible sight that will be stored in my memory at least.

After a while I came up to the surface to see that almost everyone was sat on the beach. I wondered how long I had been in the sea. It didn’t feel like that long. Having circled the reef a few times I decided to join the others on the beach. With that, the Coral View worker brought the boat across and took us back to the resort.

Showered and rested, I transferred my videos to my laptop. Soon enough it was time for dinner - yet another culinary delight.

As it was Saturday evening – the resort’s cultural night – we were treated to a series of dance performances.

Both the men and women sang and danced for us. We also got to see a dance that incorporated a long machete-like knife. I’d heard about this type of dance but hadn’t seen it up until now. The whole show was great and the ambiance was very lively.

A girl in the crowd was picked to come up and receive a very personal dance. It was her birthday and her friends squealed with glee. Cameras were poised and ready to film/photograph her embarrassment. There was plenty of love to go around though and everyone got in on the photo action…including me!

 When in Rome…

We were reminded that the bar stays open until the last man’s standing. It’s unfortunate for them if they have some heavy partiers on their hands! It had been a long day so I decided to head back to my room for an early night. I know I’m such a boring-arse!

It was a pointless act anyway as we had a guy hawking all night. For those who don’t know what hawking is, do you remember the spitting scene in Titanic? The sound that Jack makes just before he spits is what I call hawking. It is a common trait in Asia. Both men and women do it. I think it’s disgusting and it makes my skin crawl when I hear it.

Heather had no patience with the guy and kindly told him to stop it. He didn’t listen so she sternly told him to have a drink or something as we’re trying to sleep. At this point I checked my watch. It was nearing 3am. This guy had been hawking for a good four hours. It wasn’t like he did it sporadically, this guy constantly hawked over and over again. I tried to zone it out but it was impossible. He was only two beds away from me. Ah, the joys of dorm life.

Love, Life And Laughter

The elusive manta rays failed to show up after I dragged my ass out of bed far too early so the next day I decided to stay in bed. My laziness backfired as the distant rumbling drums echoed within the dorm room. Helen tried to rouse me but I was not budging. My mind was already made up.

There was no need to panic as I had a voucher for a manta ray dive at the next island. I was excited to leave Manta Ray Island and discover a new paradise. After swapping details with Helen and the two Canadians, I departed the island with fond memories.

Korovou awaited and it took less than half an hour to arrive there which meant more time for sunbathing so I was happy.

Workers sang and clapped as we took to the beach. We were greeted with smiles and passed a thirst-quenching mango beverage. We sat and sipped our drinks as the manager briefed us on the island and how things worked day-to-day.

Lunch was ready so we headed straight to the dining area. What awaited us was some atrocity concocted in revenge for something I must have done in a previous life. A cold pre-cooked lamb sausage rested upon a layer of coleslaw surrounded by a large sweet-bread finger roll. I was that flabbergasted that I forgot to take a photo. It tasted how it looked but I had it better than the vegetarians who had the same minus the sausage.

Sacha (one of the Canadian girls) has very specific dietary requirements and has intolerances to at least seven items. They both received a plate of coleslaw (which Sacha can’t eat), pineapple and papaya. They weren’t happy. Cue disgruntlement, tension and stomping.

The food wasn’t the only blind spot of this establishment. I understand that the island resorts weren’t going to be five-star-rated but I was expecting something similar to what I’d already experienced. This resort didn’t even come close.

I couldn’t help but laugh though as the staff were trying but it was so awkward at times. There were no meal alternatives so you literally had to smile and chew.

If there is only one thing that I’ve learnt in Fiji, it’s to just go with the flow. I repeatedly heard Bobby McFerrin's memorable words “Don’t worry, be happy” during my time in Fiji and they’re right. I’ve already paid for my trip and the only gripe (for me) was the food. There’s no 7 Eleven around the corner so I just have to get what I’m given.

Sacha and Heather on the other hand weren’t happy, I don’t think I’d be all that pleased if the only food that can be served to me is fruit. After a heavy load of confrontation, the girls organised to leave the next day back to Manta Ray Resort. They said I was welcome to join them but it wasn’t within my budget so I stayed.

To escape all the drama I rested in a hammock on the beach. I smiled at the beauty that surrounded me and the serenity that encompasses my life. At that precise point I had zero stress. I had no bills to pay, no job to begrudge, no person of influence nagging me, no career or social pressures and no major decisions to make. My mind was free from life’s shackles that weigh the average person down. What more can you ask for? Of course, this almost-Utopia wouldn’t last forever but I relished this rare feeling for all it’s worth...then I fell asleep. I guess feeling that happy can take it out of you.

Thankfully I didn’t miss the beautiful sunset. I shimmied so that the hammock swayed hypnotically.

Forgive the angle, I was in a hammock after all

The drums of dread rang out which meant that it was time for the next offering of the kitchen dregs. We had fish, which was actually pretty tasty, as well as an ok piece of chocolate cake for afters. Then again, I was that hungry, I’m pretty sure a kitchen tile would have tasted like haute cuisine at that moment in time!

It was at dinner where I met Amy and Amelia. I got on well with the two Aussie teachers and we all stuck around for the evening’s “entertainment”.

It was time to start laughing again as four guys in make-shift grass skirts danced awkwardly to Fijian music. The music blared from the sound systems and deafened the audience into submission.

A short while later we were coaxed to the dance floor by Ziggy, the main personality on the island. He taught us all a Fijian Macerana style dance. I recognised the song playing straight away as my friend included it in his Round The World mixed CD that he sent me before I departed England.

Unfortunately I flinch every time I hear that song now as it reminds me of that cringe-worthy moment. Again, I shrugged and joined in and it was weirdly fun as I could tell that we were all thinking the same thing.

Captain Frank’s cackle, a synonymous part of the Korovou island experience, could be heard over the blaring music. Our befuddlement at the evening’s proceedings turned to laughter as we joined in with Captain Frank’s joviality.

Once we got our groove back, we all joined in a few party games. I felt like I was back in primary school as we played dance and number games. Everyone joined in though which made it all the better.

All was well until one guy ruined things. The aim of the game was to group together in the number formation shouted out by one of the locals. For example, the music plays, we mingle, the music stops and the worker shouts out the number three. We all dash about and grab the nearest body. Those in groups of three are accepted and the one or two people left at the end are knocked out of the game. Pretty simple stuff.

At one point, the worker shouted the number seven. I went to Amy and Amelia but they were already in a group, shit. One guy shouts that they need one more person and his mate grabs my arm and pulls me in. I smile and go along with it as I’m happy I’m not knocked out.

However, a quick head count later and they realise that they have one too many. The same guy who grabbed me looked at me disgust and violently shoved me out of the group. I looked back to see that his seemingly hasty reaction was no mistake. I received no apology.

It would have been easy to go up to him and exact my revenge on one specific area sensitive to all men but I regressed. Instead, I had a – “Screw you guys, I’m going home.” – moment and went to my room.

A cardboard-thin mattress greeted me. If I closed my eyes tight enough and used my imagination, the haphazard springs that jutted into my back acted as a deep tissue massage as I restlessly moved from side to side. I never did find that magic spot in the bed that was comfortable enough to settle.

A spring must have nudged that nook in your neck that knocks you out as somehow I managed to drift off during the night.

*****

All that movement in the night had built up a healthy appetite which meant that I was ready to devour the resort’s breakfast offerings.

It was only when the drums rang out for breakfast that I got up. I previously had no other reason to move out of bed.

Perhaps I should have stayed there as breakfast was by no means a feast. I had a cup of tea, a mini muffin and one of those teeny-tiny boxed cereals you used to get as a kid. I didn’t even think they sold them anymore! I would have gone back for seconds but they barely had enough for everyone and I didn’t want to eat somebody else’s breakfast, as paltry as it was.

My stomach growled in protest. This was like a diet from hell. My body had been used to eating anything and everything that touched the plate. Sometimes it didn’t even touch the plate. Food would be placed in my palm and in a split second it would catapult into my gob. I’ve become an eating machine since travelling. I fricking love it!

Is this some kind of food karma? Have I been eating so much food that they’ve had to ration? It’s certainly possible.

Whilst I pondered this and daydreamed about food I could be eating, Sacha and Heather packed their things in preparation of leaving the island.

Heather decided to have a shower but stridently recoiled not only at the icy temperature of the water but the fact that none of the doors had locks on them. To add insult to injury, a female worker walked in on Heather whilst she was showering. Why this happened, I don’t know.

For some reason I seemed to breeze past all the short-comings of the resort. When I went to brush my teeth one time, I was greeted by a giant cockroach. With it being the only sink in the place, there wasn’t much else I could do. Rather than kick up a fuss, I just shrugged and let it be. There was no way I was touching that thing. After a while the cockroach found another home. My teeth still got cleaned in the end so what's the point of creating unnecessary stress and aggravation?

It was too early in the morning to get involved in a new drama so I left the girls to it and waited in the dining area as I was hoping to see some manta rays. I had a voucher for a trip so all I needed was them to show up this time!

This looked doubtful as Ziggy kept putting off the departure time. Surprisingly the drums rang and the manta rays were out. I grabbed some snorkelling gear and boarded the boat armed with my underwater camera. I hoped I’d get close enough to get some good footage. I’m a terribly weak swimmer so there’s no way I could keep up with the rays. Let’s hope they swim to me instead!

As the boat pulled up the manta ray hub, so did a handful of others. What we didn’t realise is that the surrounding islands come to the same spot for the dive, including the Manta Ray Resort. I’m glad I held off and waited to use my voucher.

We could see the rays before we dropped into the ocean. Although I know that manta rays are huge, it was still an overwhelming sight to behold. Wow. These majestic creatures are beautiful and such a wonder to swim with.

Thankfully I managed to keep up and have some great footage. At one point the manta rays swam right up to me. I froze in amazement but the rays weren't that dumbstruck by my presence and simply rotated sideways and glided right past me. Again, wow.

Time breezed by and I was soon worn out. The current was so strong. Somehow I managed to keep up with some of rays though. It was a battle but not in the way you might think. It wasn’t a fight with speed but with other swimmers. At one point, a girl swam diagonally into my path. An obligatory sharp shove with my elbow did the trick.

As soon as we made it back onto land, I checked the camera’s footage on my laptop. It doesn’t quite capture the true extent of what I saw but it’s still a great memento to have.

There was still so much of the day left. I sunbathed by the pool and lazed in a hammock. I had quite a lot on my mind so it was great to be alone with my thoughts and work things out. It’s something I love as I never used to have enough time at home to properly work through my thoughts and feelings. I worked myself up into a frenzy and always seemed to be stressed out about something.

Although it was nice to have some time to myself, I didn’t want to be entirely anti-social and jumped at the chance of going for a walk with Amy and Amelia. We wandered across to Honeymoon Beach.

On the way, we passed another resort that looked even worse than ours. It was classed as a one coconut accommodation. I was definitely thankful that I upgraded. Phew!

For some reason I thought that I didn’t need to wear anything on my feet as we were walking along the beach. I always take my flip flops off as they get stuck in the sand. This was an unfortunate decision as it turned out that we needed to cut through a wooded area. Stones, gravel and other jagged debris bit into my feet as we climbed up a slight ascent and across to this idyllic – well it bloody well better be! - beach. Ouch!

The tide was in. Arse.

When we returned, Amy, Amelia and I decided to grab a coconut. Well, we had a little help.

Unlike Manta Ray, Gekko Man is more of a tourist attraction as we were coaxed to give him money for his efforts. I was happy to as it was great to see and a few dollars wasn’t going to break the bank.

A few hours later we decided to give Honeymoon Beach another go. This time it was a success. We wandered about, picked up sea cucumbers and sunbathed.

The sun was still beating down with force and my skin prickled in protest. We didn’t stay too long. Amy and Amelia offered me their shower. As they were staying in a bure (private cabin), they had running hot water, something I hadn’t felt against my body for what felt like  a month but in reality was only a week. Well a week too long in my book.

Heavy procrastination came in the form of dinner and dancing so my heated fountain of solace had to wait. My towel and soap sat on the chair beside me ready and poised for lift off as soon as Amy and Amelia gave me the nod.

Cold showers only serve the purpose of cooling you down. It is impossible to ever feel clean afterwards. Repeated cold showers made me feel dirtier each time. By this point, I’d generated a film of dirt that cloaked my body. It wasn’t thick enough to draw attention. I wasn’t an extra out of Oliver Twist let’s put it that way but, to me, it felt like that way.

When Ziggy rolled out the same shtick as last night, the girls decided to head back to their hut early. Yes! I might have even been bouncing up and down on the spot I was that excited. It was a worthy reaction as I had an awesome shower. I felt squeaky clean.

After thanking the girls profusely, I retreated back to my room to pack and ready myself for departure the following morning.

With the Canadians gone, I almost had the room to myself. Despite the semi-large mass of people outside, there was only one person checked into my dorm. Emma, the lovely Brit who humoured me whilst I was silly-drunk on South Sea Island, had arrived earlier in the day. I spoke to her briefly during dinner but she seemed to have made a few friends so I left her to it.

Coral View was the next and final resort on my island hopping experience. I hoped with all my might that this resort would be spectacular so my trip would end on a high.