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.