45~Long Beach Bliss To Limbo In Latouka

One doesn’t discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time. ~Andre Gide

Once upon a Fiji time had come to a close and there was much more to tell- especially about the interesting people I had met. Finnish girls that had worked in Lapland (both with a wicked sense of humour), travelled extensively in between working inTourism. They had lots to tell- tales from around the world; cardamom flavoured pastries from back home (that have an uncanny resemblance to female genitalia!); daylight hours; temperatures and their ways of life. The islands that Finnish people bike around, transported by ferries with perfect camping and cabin spots to reside sounds like an idyllic rite of passage ,as do the pastries that typify the nation. When I tell Ida about my lovely brother, she would like to invite him to Finland to sample this pastry and perhaps also the real thing! We wonder what has happened to the island? People are talking dirty, innuendos are a flying. A couple had arrived the day I left. They took to their room immediately (allegedly, Will and Stacey had informed me of this on Naqualia Island) and did not hold back when vocalising their choice of activity. Stacey says she found it pretty embarrassing, blushing at the communal meal when they arrived late (and either not bothered or oblivious to the performance they had inflicted on the other Long Beachers). Chris speculated that perhaps as the chalkboard had no activities scheduled, this amorous couple had taken the matter into their own hands. It was Sunday! No activities anywhere on the island!  Chris took a group of guests to study a tree during his infamous Coconut Demo the following morning and as he spoke about the bark, the leaves and the method for scaling the beast he and his students had to endure an unwelcome and somewhat unfitting soundtrack to the lesson. 

So armed with this knowledge when I returned to Long Beach we laughed over it. We realised poor Adriane had roomed in dorms with this loved up couple back in Barefoot! Guess they decided to upgrade on Long Beach. She fortunately had not been woken by any untoward noises but they were snuggled together in the bottom bunk when she awoke in the morning. She, a lone traveller, was pretty put off to discover roommates so involved in each other- giggling and staring into each others eyes on the hammock. But it sounds like she got off lightly. When we went to the school some of the children thought I was pregnant- this was not good. Surely even though an amorous atmosphere prevailed in the islands this could not have been soaked into my skin by osmosis, resulting in pregnancy. Adriane said it was my dress. I think this was kind. It was also the Fijian food. Like the couple that were unable to keep their hands off each other, I was unable to keep my hands off the mangoes, the fresh breads Olivia baked and even one morning had fresh donuts for breakfast. Not one. But two. The bloat was a Fijian food baby. Adrianne and I staged a work out the next morning outside the dorms. She too felt the bloat from all the indulging and laying around that these sleepy paradises leant themselves to. 

Dave, who I met on Nabua, took this photo. What a great, interesting guy. He had just spent some gruelling but awesome months working in Central Australia on a ranch. He would be helicoptered out with a few others and he would sleep in the bush. He rode horses to gather cattle. A cowboy. He was so smart; having started his studies in Earth Sciences.Dave is an ocean boy, his dad being a harbour diver and growing up in Guernsey in the Channel Islands. He surfs at Cloudbreak and will head to the waters of Bali next. He speaks with the headmaster at the school visit about fuels we consume, climate change, problems now and future solutions. Chris and I both love the snippet he mentions when we are around the fire: human beings have travelled further in outer space then we have been able to delve into our planet. We both looked at each other and said, wow- we had never thought about that before. And Chris said conspiratorially, 'Dave is a smart guy.' So it appears that the possibility to meet new people with enthralling and varied stories is endless. 

There was one girl that I had a strong connection with, and so did Long Beach. Little Liza. As I had no plans, had been on the islands now for 12 days and 11 nights, I told Olivia to message her and let her know I would be in the mainland and would go to Lautoka to see her. So my lovely Finnish friends and Dave had to climb aboard that yellow boat; it softened the blow to be with others on the trip South. They were all hopping to Barefoot and my Island hopping days were over. One last trip on the Yasawa Flyer. What a funny thing. So much had happened on this boat. From the day I arrived, travelling through time from LA and sitting in a complete haze, surveying the hopping process on the upper deck. Bumping into other hoppers or seeing them get on the boat from a deck vantage point. Seeing Chris's mum and his pregnant cousin heading to the mainland and there kindness and warmth; coming to bid farewell to Will, Stacey and I when we disembarked for Nabua. Sitting at the Awesome Adventure travel agent desk and booking the next island- my last time hoping that Chris was not pretending to be fully booked as this was the only place I wanted to go. Drinking a decent coffee and snaffling some sweet honey nuts in the breeze out on deck. I liked this boat, actually. I had come full circle and believed that it did represent freedoms and choice. I was alone was more and headed to sit inside, feeling like I was baking outside. 

I realised that I would need somewhere to stay when I arrived in Nadi. I talked to the Awesome Adventure ladies about the places to stay- there was a free bus that would take me to an area where there were hostel options. She called a friend of hers to ask about Savusavu ferries and could not come back with any more information that I had sat with a German girl who had been working in Australia and had been loving her time on a quiet Island, where she felt like one of the family. She would stay at the dreaded Smuggler's Cove and seemed concerned that I was unconcerned having nowhere booked to go. I would head with her to this popular backpackers spot and see what happened. We became fast friends, bonding over our desire for some fresh fruit and healthy foods for dinner. We were put in a dorm together, headed out for fish and salad. The taxi driver told me he was from Savusavu and I could get there via Suva. Ferries are regular. We hopped out and looked at our two restaurant choices, a man checking the same restaurant immediately engaged with us and he joined us for dinner. Neo. The chosen one- as he said. Very confident (verging on arrogant) and sightly suave, he was the opposite of backpacker. Sent on business To Fiji, via Australia, this American owns a chain of beauty bars specialising in a certain type of facials. He was flying to Savusavu in the morning and staying at the poshest hotel in Nadi. When I confessed that I was trying to work out how to get to the Hidden Paradise, he whipped outahis iphone to email his secretary to get flight prices for me. Veronique and I both confided later that we thought he was about to offer to pay. He did not but he did buy us both a drink at the bar we went to. He was a bit overly comfortable with us both, wanting us to go back to his hotel and use the facilities- apparently there was a great pool. We exchanged details and I said I would contact him should I make it to Savusavu. 

The next morning Veronique and I had an early start and at 6:30 I made the decision, go now to Latouka. The kind guy woking the nightshift at Smuggler's Cove had offered to take us into town at 7:15 when he finished work. We had decided this was pointless as nothing would be open- Veronique had the whole day before a flight to South America. But as we sat eating our free breakfast in the slightly depressing surroundings, I decided to take Sere up on his offer. Somehow, as I rushed to pack my bag and dump it in Smuggler's Cove storage locker, meaninig I had just my back pack anda shopping bag, I missed Veronique and felt awful not saying good bye. 

I headed out with Sere. It was a little naive of me, because I thought he meant he had a vehicle. He in fact took me to the road where we waited for the local bus. Children ready  for school and other Fijians on their way to work were seated quietly and Sere and I chatted away. He would be returning to his home, Suva, on the weekend and I was welcome to undertake the journey with him on Saturday. He would show me around and he would help me get to Savusavu. His kindness, curiousity and interest was a breath of beautiful air. 

He walked me through the busy town and took me to the bus station- this was well out of his way but he insisted and we continued our conversation. He put me on a minibus- it costs 50 cents more, many locals use it. It is smaller, more comfortable and will run as and when it is full. I was the lucky last passenger and Sere spoke to the driver for me. Instinctively I embraced him and scrambled onto the vehicle. I watched Sere walk off, his tall frame making its way across the grass. My bag was squeezed on and I was too. Last seat, sandwiched between two large Fijian men, one with fishing gear and both with warm legs and a smile. The minivan drove through some of the lushest jungle and I felt incredible tranquility, enjoying the shop fronts that we intermittently past- the old fashioned nature of this world, all faded in the rays of the Fijian sunshine. Passengers knocked on the window when they needed to get off the bus- normally in the middle of the street) and there were no obvious bus stops that I could see. I trusted that it would be clear when I arrived in Latouka and no knocking and vacating in the middle of the road would be necessary.

Lautoka is a town that lies within the heart of Fiji's sugarcane region, known as the Sugar City. I had arrived in the station and would look for wifi. Well there was nothing dead obvious, so I headed down the road for a coffee. Lautoka is adorned with these, and facebook was my only way of contacting Liza. I needed coffee and went into a cafe which was Indo-Fijian. I was given a big fat instant coffee with sugar and creamy milk and some Indian sweets. Lactose and sugar overload but I did not want to appear ungrateful, fussy or SOMEONE willing to throw food away. I realised I was the only non local around these parts. I was not unwelcome but I was stared at A LOT. Liza was quick to respond to my facebook call out and tracked down where I was. She had got to know these streets well.

Traversing the town on a daily basis, awaiting news on her visa, she had developed a bit of a routine and took me to her usual spot for coffee and wifi. They knew her by name and they knew her order. Liza was pretty in limbo. Her host family (who took her in when she too was on the minibus and looking for somewhere to stay) were amazing. The mother worked hard as a nurse and there were two young children that had taken to Liza. They shared a bed in the house as there was by no means any spare monies. But everything they had, they shared. Caring for Liza so warmly- this was also extended to myself. The host mama was willing for me to go and stay should I be in bother. Olivia from Long Beach had suggested that I stay with her aunt. However, I was so unsure of my plans and did not want to commit to anything/mess anyone around, I relied on the Lonely Planet and headed to a hostel frequented by workers that spend time in Lautoka. Liza and I dropped my bags and headed out to her stomping grounds- she provided me with the grand tour. She posted some cards:-

We went to the market where she bought her $1 Roti everyday and something to take home to her host family as a token contribution. She had been eating a lot of cassava. A staple here. The ladies in the market knew her; she was on the promise of octopus which they never seemed to have. It was whatever the fisherman reeled in. Today she tried some seaweed. I opted for some fish and cassava, a mango and saome carrots. We got a fair amount of attention. Lots of Bulas! flew our way, smiles, stares and later on we even had an ‘I love you.’ We felt this was a bit much, as we had literally just walked by this stranger. Not really something concrete in which to base love. I was also groped by a drunk man in the street- he reached out to touch me and grabbed my hip. Although feeling somewhat violated, there was a policewoman that happened to be there and I felt a bit sorry for him as he got an earful. High school children would gawp, stare and speak excitedly, followed by laughter. As you probably are gathering, this town was a far cry from the idyllic, isolated world of Long Beach. 

The streets were busy and there was a hum of activity. (We later realise there are big preparations for Diwali taking place, hence this holiday-esque shopping buzz and decor encroaching in and around shops and restaurants.) Busy and tacky shop fronts, lots of junk and cheap deals going on, an abundance of internet cafes, second hand clothes shops, old fashioned electrical shops, key cutters, more modern in appearance clothing stores and a mix of eateries scattered around. Life really centred around the market. The Indo-Fijians were prevalent here as were the Fijians- it was my first experience of this and it made for an interesting fusion. I was quite taken with Ice Cream seller at the market:-

We took our market purchases down to the waterfront where Liza would daily have her one girl picnic. She now had a buddy and we chatted away about her dilemma. Should she hang on for her visa? Should she stay in Latouka? Should she head back to her Long Beach family? Spend her days in wait in a true haven. Liza was in limbo and so was I. Although I had not the worry of visas and complicated matters to do with visas and varying scenarios. I have to tell you, one of the reasons Liza was holding out for her visa was in order to return to Taiwan via Australia in order to pick up her two huge bags of macadamia nuts from the farm she had worked on. This is girl after my own heart- she went to Australia based on her love of this nut and plans to explore New Zealand, purely pulled by the delectable kiwi fruit. (There is a sad ending, she was unable to retrieve her nuts but was able to get home in time and meet her promise to be in attendance of a friend’s wedding- a double edged sword, I feel.) 

While we picnicked, a man watched us. There was something creepy in the way he did this. Lazed back and kind of a smirk and a look like he was drinking us in. I had not finished my cassava and he gestured to us and the leftovers. Liza took him it. We realised that perhaps he was homeless, certainly hungry and maybe in need of a little help. Possibly in limbo too.

Liza’s limbo became intertwined with mine and we wondered for both if us what the next step would be. Should we both head to Long Beach? Should I head to the Hidden Paradise? This perpetuated the next two days and we met up at various points, spending some time in internet spots doing our own research. There were a lot of young kids in these spots, playing extremely violent games. I went to a few different ones as my indecision consumed me and I continuously checked flight options and felt the universe was throwing me different signals. 

Liza and I did have a dinner out, enjoying some Indian food in a restaurant recommended by my guide book. She was getting closer to some decisions, realising that she could not hold her hopes on her macadamias and had booked a flight. Now it was just, wait it out in Lautoka or head to Long Beach? For me: Long Beach with Liza and the loved ones back there or head north to the Hidden Paradise? Twice I tried to book a flight and something failed. Was it a sign? Liza did not want to influence my decision, as much as she wanted me to go with her. She adopted Chris’s phrase, “Up to you…”

I had a day to sit on it. So I did, I dragged this limbo out. We headed our separate ways into the night and it is the first time on my travels that I felt a little scared. The streets of the town were so dark and I had to walk across a grassy knoll. I saws figure walking towards me. I recognised the man Liza and I had met during our picnic. I said hello as his face lit with recognition. I walked on. I walked quickly, turning once or twice and sliding into the safety of my hostel and room. I ran in the morning. I saw the man once more that we had donated the cassava to. Running gave me a reason to not interact but I felt strange having bumped into him on all these different occasions.

 I went to the market and had my own picnic. Liza was busy, taking the host family’s son to the cinema and preparing her stuff to leave early the next morning. We would meet in the stain at 5:30 am and catch a mini bus together to Nadi. From there I would have to decide if I should head to the port or the airport. I sat on a bench near a tree, eating my snacks. Who should be coming my way? Our cassava friend. He sits and begins chatting. Unfortunately, he has not the art of charm. He questions me about my age, why I am not married and is kind of, well, insulting. Therefore I am certainly not in the mood for his final question, asking for money. I offer him my snacks and get up and leave. I wish him luck but I feel insulted, irritated and mixed with guilt. Not a great combination. I wander. I realise there must be a rugby match. $2.50 entrance fee. I am in. Woahhhhh. They smash each other! I have never seen live rugby. Here I am invisible. No 'Bulas', no 'I love you'. These folk are serious about their rugby and it provides a cloak of anonymity which was delicious. 

I have a veggie Thali and meet Liza and her little buddy near the market. I will have an early night and see her in the morning.

When I leave my hostel at 5:00am, still undecided on my next step, I am struck by the beauty of the sky. The moon is present, in a vibrant crescent, ribbons of red are strewn across the sky and the morning colours change amidst the silhouette of the mountainous backdrop. There is one bright star. I head across the grassy knoll, then down a backstreet I have discovered is a good short cut. Unbelievable. There is the man once more. I realise that I am on his patch that he traverses because he is without a home. I am ashamed. He was probably no danger to me whatsoever. Even if he was, he evidently is suffering and has not the luxury of a bed or knowing where his next food will come from. 

So I meet Liza, we board our early morning bus. We arrive in Nadi and head to the market, which is just staring to see arrivals of Fijians setting out their produce to sell. We sit on some steps and it is time to break this Lautoka limbo. We walk to the bus station. Okay, I go to the airport. Liza and I are sad and I know not whether it is right. But an adventure, seeing more of Fiji is what is speaking to me. I think back to when I was lost and found in New York and that Part of 'The Alchemist' were the shepherd is confronted with fear and confusion in a new place where he is an outsider. He recognises that it is not a strange place, just a new one. And that is what he longed for, new places. Long Beach is always going to call because it is magical and Chris, a very magical man is there. So time was finally up, the spell of fairytale Long Beach possibility was broken. This princess could run to the safety of a castle a prince, and the comforts in friendships with the lovely Liza and Olivia, or adventure forth. I was immediately dubious and remorseful as I sat in the airport. What was I doing? Had I ignored so many signs telling me to head back to the warmth and beauty of Long Beach? I was conflicted. But as I settled in and observed a lovely conversation between a Fijian woman and an Indian woman, their kindness warmed my body. Labasa, 'The Friendly North' they told me. Friendliest Fijians you will ever meet, they told me. And as I shared my non plans for when I arrived, I realised the Fijian woman was making a phone call. She was checking the bus times for Savusavu for me. She would take me to the bus stop in her taxi and make sure I was in the right spot to head onward to the Hidden Paradise. I limbo-ed this Princess out of Lautoka, the temptation of guaranteed bliss of Long Beach, right into the unknown, Labasa of Vanua Levu. A little bit of faith, a few deep breaths. There were no guarantees but it was already looking up.

‘If you want a guarantee, buy a toaster.’ ~Clint Eastwood