I’m not sure if I am taking a while to adjust to Fijian time, (it is only a two-hour time difference), or if the heat combined with the humidity is what is making me lethargic. Perhaps it’s just island life, dear reader. Whatever, I woke with the sunrise this morning and loitered in bed until I was sure Jayne wasn’t waking. By 7am, I had crept silently from the bed, put on my swimmers, grabbed my goggles and towel, and walked quietly to the pool.
The tables were being laid for breakfast and the smell of bacon faintly scented the air. There was still a slight breeze as I slipped into the water to churn out 500 metres. The best thing about this is that it will be saved on Strava as twice the length because my watch is set to 50 metre laps, not the 25 metres of the resort pool. Officially today I swam 1,000 metres in less than 13 minutes. Happy with that, but don’t tell anyone, my trusted reader.
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| No idea. Pretty. |
The main pool is very warm and extremely salty, even more salty than the lagoon. It was necessary to have a fresh water rinse off as I headed home. By 7:30 am, I was back stretched out in bed next to a still sleeping Jayne. I am a ninja.
For the first time since we arrived, we had no close neighbours. Sunday must be the major departure day. It would also explain the sparse showing at dinner last night, something that was replicated at breakfast. Although the reduced crowd didn’t discourage the resident cats or visiting birds. Jayne maintains that the animals know me because I’ve fed them. I accept that with the cats, not sure about the bulbul. However, this morning after I placed my muffin on the table and went to get the bad coffee and a cup of tea, a bulbul landed on the back of my chair. When Jayne didn’t provide instant sustenance, it flew directly to the granola station and had a couple of beaks-full before staff scared it away. I am not responsible for rogue birds, although I am happy because it is a native.
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| Another flower |
After breakfast, we walked to the notice board to see what was on the published agenda today. Nothing particularly enticing, except the date was recorded as: Monday, April 9. Hence today’s title dear reader. Jayne remarked that they had turned back time and May hadn’t happened yet. It has nothing to do with Cher and straddling big guns. If it had, I would have chosen the Beatles’ Happiness is a Warm Gun.
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| It's island time |
The breeze was quite strong still but we decided to brave it and go for a paddle in the lagoon in one of the double kayaks. Jayne, as agile as she has ever been, managed to fall out of the craft before she even got in. It was warm, I reasoned, she probably wanted to cool off before we worked up a sweat. She’s always been the sensible one. And work up a sweat we did, once Jayne managed to sit in the kayak, fighting both current and wind at varying times. We ended up beyond the Island Bar and made an interesting discovery. The water out there was crystal clear. Noteworthy for snorkelling, after the murky experience the other day. Eventually we manoeuvred the kayak so it faced the shoreline and began paddling again. I’ll be surprised if I don’t feel this activity in my shoulders tomorrow.
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| The White-faced Heron turned from Jayne, embarrassed. |
By the time we returned the Kayak I was hot and sweating. If only I’d had the foresight to get into the water before we set out. We made use of the shade from the coconut palms on the stretch of sand in front of our buré and discussed the clear water. The tide was high so it was good time to snorkel - at least we wouldn’t need to walk most of the way out to the clear water – if it still existed. I collected the flippers and goggles, we re-applied sunscreen and went in search of underwater worlds.
The water wasn’t much more than waist deep, chest deep in some spots. The lack of clarity continued as before; visibility was less than a metre. For either Jayne or I to locate the other required a head up out of the water. Or an accidental collision – there were a few of those. Until about 150 metres from shore, there was little to see. The water was clouded with silt and the seabed populated by those curious little fish that dig holes and then sit in their entrance. There were very infrequent beds of seagrass and occasional pods of weed.
Then, inexplicably, the water became crystal clear. The pods of weed increased, followed by pockets of fledgling coral and bay clams. There were a few interesting fish near these tiny outcrops, but they too were small. Everything appeared in scale. We were probably approaching 200 metres from shore and still hadn’t reached the deep-water line. Time to go back. Sunscreen doesn’t last forever and we’ve been badly burnt snorkelling before.
What an active morning! Time to chill with a book on the verandah and wait for lunch and check out the cocktail of the day. I’m reading Girt Nation by David Hunt. It’s the third book in his unauthorised history of Australia. It’s a pity that historians didn’t write texts like this when I was at school way back last century. If you ever want to laugh and depress yourself simultaneously, the Girt series is for you. It explains a lot about Australia’s current political and social situation.
With only a couple of days remaining, today we opted to have lunch for the first time. Perhaps because of the radical exercise of the morning. Who knows? Anyway, we shared tonkatsu sliders and halloumi salad, paired with the cocktail of the day for me, a Blue Malolo and Jayne had a Tropical Splice. She wouldn’t try mine because it had been poisoned by the addition of Banana Rum.
Back on the verandah, we decided we would have another go at snorkelling off the Island Bar’s beach tomorrow. Hopefully, the clarity of water out there will allow a better view of the coral than we experienced last time. And then … read … siesta … a little of column A, a little of column B.
An afternoon lap of the tourist inhabited area revealed the Fijian Parrot Finch, a recognised subspecies of the Red Faced Parrot Finch. It’s the same bird we saw at the Sheraton on the main island. I’ve done some checking since then. I didn’t have the big lens with me, so I’m hoping I jagged a decent photo. Sorry, that section should have come with a bird-nerd alert.
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| Not quite as good as I had hoped. |
Another relaxing afternoon on the verandah as the sun moved towards colouring the western sky. That means dinner. And in another piece of exciting news, they now have the Pinot Gris in stock. It was very good. Probably not as good as we thought, but hey, it wasn’t one of those herbaceous, sugar laden NZ sav blancs.
There were a few new faces at dinner tonight, our penultimate dinner. Not to mention there was another group of travel agents from the States or Canada – Ok, I can tell the difference, but I just don’t care that much. There were about ten of them and, if they were on a similar program to the last group, it means 8 resorts in 8 days. That is a schedule that does not vaguely interest me. Gruelling. It’s like speed dating, or a sample plate; it might pique your interest but in the end, you will be unsatisfied.
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| My phone takes a better picture than my camera |
Unlike us. We are both satisfied and sated after our day’s activity, dinner and another knockout sunset. It has been spectacular every night, better than anywhere we’ve seen. Don’t try and hide in the corner Santorini, I’m looking at you.
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| Time for a new camera |
Until next time.
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