P.S. We Came To Fiji
In a cloud of dust the taxi skidded to a halt outisde a dirt covered shack with a 'Tourist Information' sign above it. We and our 45 kilo bags clumbered out to the feet of a purple saari wearing lady who beconned us inside. Five minutes later she had convinced us in a shouty kind of way that the beautiful resort we had planned to go to; wasn't by the beach, was too expensive, dirty, and had bad food and weather.
As we handed over our $140 fijian dollars to stay at "her recommended" resort she and her friend burst into laughter. I think we have been stitched up.
45 Minutes later and the Sun Beam Express bus screeches to a halt on the side of a deserted road, the driver points at us so we assume this is our stop. Again, we stand in a cloud of dust with our rucksacks at our feet looking completely lost. We haven't seen another tourist for the last 2 hours, and we don't yet know that we are not going to see another for the next 3 days!
When we were in Oz we complainned about this kind of thing not happenning any more, we didn't want to be organised, we wanted to be ripped off and lost. Reminding ourselves of this we climbed onto our rucksacks and dragged ourselves across the road and down the only visible dirt track. We soon arrived in a village square of dust and long stares surrounded by 4 shacks. One selling Kava (the local fijian drug), another selling petrol, and the last two selling strange fruit and dirty old men.
Through the dust and flies appears a rusty bent Nissan with taxi written on the side. We jump in and tell the driver the name of our "resort", he hummmms and errrs about taking us there as the road is too bad. $4 extra later and we are heading alond a goat ridden lane. We are dreading what we've let ourselves get into, and are angry with ourselves that after 4 months in Asia we didn't see this scam coming. We feel we've been booked into hell instead of paradise.
30 Minutes later and we arrive...in Paradise!!!
The place is stunning, however cleary owned by the purple saari wearing tourist operators father.
There are 3 traditional fijian bures (huts) set on a green grass slope down to a white sand beach falling away into the clearest blue coral laiden reef fringed lagoon. The most obvious thing about paradise is that it's all ours. Clearly nobody else is stupid enough to agree to come somewhere they have no idea about. We are waited upon hand and foot with 3 delicious meals a day, afternoon teas, and all included in the price. All the food is grown fresh around us. Bizu the cow provides the milk:
While Cea walks out to the reef with a stick to catch octopus:
There is a fridge full of Fiji beer, and hammocks to sleep and read in the whole day long...after a great nigh sleep in our bure we agree to stay 4 more nights.
For the next 4 days we have the whole place to ourselves, and possibly some of the most relaxed days of our lives.
As we handed over our $140 fijian dollars to stay at "her recommended" resort she and her friend burst into laughter. I think we have been stitched up.
45 Minutes later and the Sun Beam Express bus screeches to a halt on the side of a deserted road, the driver points at us so we assume this is our stop. Again, we stand in a cloud of dust with our rucksacks at our feet looking completely lost. We haven't seen another tourist for the last 2 hours, and we don't yet know that we are not going to see another for the next 3 days!
When we were in Oz we complainned about this kind of thing not happenning any more, we didn't want to be organised, we wanted to be ripped off and lost. Reminding ourselves of this we climbed onto our rucksacks and dragged ourselves across the road and down the only visible dirt track. We soon arrived in a village square of dust and long stares surrounded by 4 shacks. One selling Kava (the local fijian drug), another selling petrol, and the last two selling strange fruit and dirty old men.
Through the dust and flies appears a rusty bent Nissan with taxi written on the side. We jump in and tell the driver the name of our "resort", he hummmms and errrs about taking us there as the road is too bad. $4 extra later and we are heading alond a goat ridden lane. We are dreading what we've let ourselves get into, and are angry with ourselves that after 4 months in Asia we didn't see this scam coming. We feel we've been booked into hell instead of paradise.
30 Minutes later and we arrive...in Paradise!!!
The place is stunning, however cleary owned by the purple saari wearing tourist operators father.
There are 3 traditional fijian bures (huts) set on a green grass slope down to a white sand beach falling away into the clearest blue coral laiden reef fringed lagoon. The most obvious thing about paradise is that it's all ours. Clearly nobody else is stupid enough to agree to come somewhere they have no idea about. We are waited upon hand and foot with 3 delicious meals a day, afternoon teas, and all included in the price. All the food is grown fresh around us. Bizu the cow provides the milk:
While Cea walks out to the reef with a stick to catch octopus:
There is a fridge full of Fiji beer, and hammocks to sleep and read in the whole day long...after a great nigh sleep in our bure we agree to stay 4 more nights.
For the next 4 days we have the whole place to ourselves, and possibly some of the most relaxed days of our lives.
posted by Chris at 1:03 AM
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