Fiji - Boat Trip

Day 1 Fiji

I awoke at 5am my body clock still not quite in line with Fiji time and lay in my bed listening to the sounds of insects and morning as the sun rose over the hill behind us.

Breakfast was taken in the large open dinning room where I shared a table with Elizabeth, enjoying some of her private stash of soft brown bread. Fresh mango, watermelon, sliced mandarin and bananas lay displayed on the breakfast table, cereal, milk, juice, water, coffee, jam and toast were there for the taking plus a menu of Breakfast Extras such as beans on toast or omelet was also available.

I ate my fill as Kris, slightly blurry eyed, joined us handing me a mask and fins.

The boat trip was due to leave soon and in a state of mild shock I found myself ten minutes later bouncing across the huge swells outside the lagoon heading for an Island somewhere along the coast!

The sun was bright, the sea was blue, I was back in the Pacific and life was good as I settled down to enjoy the ride soaking up the warm salty air.

Spray bounced up from the sea, huge powerful rolling waves rocked us despite the power from engines as the Island came into sight.

A tiny cove cut naturally into a cliff face formed a tiny hideaway reachable only by boat.

Huge vines and trees reached up towards the heavens,

rich and dark green against the stunning blue sky.

Crystal clear water lapped golden sand covered shores,

the shallow water warm to the touch as it brushed over the sun baked fine grains.

Shells and coral were washed up in drawn out piles at either end of the beach.

Shapes and colours blending together to form a jigsaw of intense magnitude and complexity.

Hermit crabs of all sizes scuttled here and there,

meeting each other, squabbling over new homes,

scavenging food as the sea brought fresh nutrients within their reach.

At one end of the cove an overhang formed ground level caves for the sea to rush against, blow holes blasting out the trapped water with a whoosh of spray.

A lone white bird perched on the rocks, watching, waiting as the tiny fish flitted here and there.

The boat took those who wished to fish for our dinner far out to sea while those who wished to snorkel and swim rested in the bay.

The sun was hot, the breeze slight and refreshing while the sea reflected a sky of the most amazing pale blue.

I walked the shore collecting shells that could be transformed into crafts of some description.

I swam in crystal touched waters as fish darted around my toes and fingertips.

I lay on the soft grass of the clearing in front of the tiny shack where our food would be served and marvelled at the wonder of my life.

Yet again I had found a little piece of heaven, once more I was on the receiving end of the universes gifts as luxuries and adventures I could never afford were placed in my path for the taking.

I relaxed in the sea once more soaking up the caresses of the waves, blissfully absorbing the penetrating heat from the sun until it was time to leave this little hide away in paradise.

As part of the trip our boat took us to the far side of the Island where a tiny community lives.

Open plan buildings lay scattered in the far bay, lean-to kitchens full of pots and pans nestled at the back of each house.

The villages water supply comes from what they manage to collect on their roof space. Rain water, when it falls, runs via a net work of pipework into large holding tanks. No rain, no water!

We walked up the hill to the school as I drank in the immaculate lawns, smiling faces and beautiful gardens along the way.

School was finished for the day but we were shown the class rooms reminiscent from my early school years.

Wooden desks were gathered in a circle at the centre of the room, a blackboard was covered with the days work, pictures, displays and art work adorned the walls.

The smell of chalk and wood filled the rooms and brought memories of my primary school days flooding back.

Classes are taught through the medium of English despite the fact that the Fijians have a language of their own. It reminded me of how the Welsh were taught in English back home, until the powers that be were crushed by the demands of the people and Welsh speaking schools were once more allowed.

We looked, we wandered, we were informed and educated about the way things worked, we each gave a donation that was given to the chief of the village to help pay for school books and other things the village desperately needed and we left, inspired and humbled by what we had seen.

The ride back to Mango Bay was exhilarating to say the least. Fishing lines were thrown out but no fish were caught. (I sort of felt guilty as I had prayed we would not catch anything!)

Dolphins were spotted just outside the lagoon, huge powerful beasts that glided beneath us with a grace that belies their size. Effortlessly they rose and sank as the boat headed into the pass and back to Mango Bay.

I had been in Fiji for barely a day and yet I had been welcomed and absorbed within the family atmosphere of the Island and Resort until it already felt like home. Strangers had embraced me, islanders had fed me and worried about me, my son stood waiting for me as I stepped down from the boat.

I walked our beach as the sun set in the most dramatic show of colour. I showered in piping hot water before changing into the silk trousers and top I had bought in India and I dined on fresh vegetables sprinkled with cheese.

That evening as I sat by the bar with Kris, Danny and Liz, slowly sipping a cold Fiji Gold stubby I gave thanks to the universe for my blessed life, sank a second beer and began to tell the tales from Kris's childhood that sometimes are better left unsaid!!

Two beers is definitely my limit lol xxx