My Heart Will Go On - Fiji, Malolo Island Musket Cove

 I know dear reader, who’d have thought that I’d willingly choose a Celine Dion song for a title. As Daffy would say, “not this little black duck”. But here we are. As I mentioned yesterday, we are transiting from the main island to Malolo today. We were absorbing time pre-departure and walked into a shop and that was playing the theme from Titanic. Since we were about to board a boat, I dead-panned to Jayne, “I hope that’s not an omen”. If you are reading this you can assume that we arrived safely.

Breakfast at the Sheraton Fiji Resort is next level. The main dining room offers a “full American breakfast”. Now I don’t know what that is exactly, but these two Australians certainly left full after breakfast. There was the usual bacon, sausages and eggs to go with a variety of coffee, tea and fruit juices. Omelettes and eggs benedict rolls, made while you briefly waited, also proved popular. There was also a section that was very Japanese in focus. Another delivered French style pastries as well as pikelets and donuts. There were also soups and casseroles and hotpots and wait for it … breakfast pizza. OMG. This is heaven. Pizza for breakfast. OK, I didn’t indulge, but had we been staying longer, it would have been on.

The highlight of the morning, dear reader? What could be more exciting than breakfast pizza? As a well-known bird nerd, it was seeing several red-faced parrot finches in the garden. Sadly, I was sans camera and we didn’t really have time to back track. Still, I thought it was exciting.

Post breakfast, it was a quick repack and down to reception for the bus to the marina. Unlike yesterday we had to share with another couple. Life is tough.

We checked in for the island catamaran trip, swapped our bags for a luggage tag and wandered off to the shops to burn some more time. Nothing particularly special to report except the theme from the movie Titanic as already noted.

Back out into the sunshine, eat your heart out Sydney, and the humidity, we sat and waited with the other passengers, slowly sweating into formless puddles. At 10:30am, bang on time, we boarded. As we motored out, someone made an announcement about the trip, where we would be stopping, safety procedures and the like. The only problem; it was very difficult to understand what he was saying. It was either a rubbish sound system or he was speaking with the microphone in his mouth. Eventually I understood that we were the second and last stop.

Denarau Marina

The voyage out was uneventful. I was disappointed by the amount of rubbish floating in the water, but aside from that, nothing to report. It takes about an hour to get to the Malolo Island and as we manoeuvred into the wharf at Plantation Island, the first drop off, we could see two guitarists singing a welcome to those who would be departing the catamaran. That was pretty much everyone but us.

The Island Trader on its way to Malolo

Our stop was another five minutes away. Around the point we go and stop. Seriously, it would have been more efficient to offload us and drive us around in a golf buggy. It was literally a few hundred metres. As we neared our wharf, we could see the singers, many singers and multiple musicians. Imagine, I said to Jayne, if we were the only people left on the cat and they were singing for the two of us, especially given the massive number that got off at the last stop to be serenaded by two musicians. As so it proved. They were performing for the two of us. Talk about being the centre of attention.

Off the catamaran for a more personal welcome and induction to Musket Cove and everything it has to offer. Time for lunch at the café and a couple of glasses of wine while our beach buré was being prepared. No double bed tonight – a king bed, two day beds, bar area, verandah, hammock – OK you get the picture. And if not here are some I prepared earlier.

from the verandah

looking back from the lagoon

the bed and the welcome

It is hot and humid so we went to the pool for a dip. The tide was out, so to swim in the ocean required a long walk. Post swim we went to reception to book in for Cloud 9. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to discover what that is about, but then, so will we. Then it was out to the Island Bar, a place where you can have drinks or a meal or even cook your own BBQ. Like that will happen.

Cloud 9 from the ferry

In the quest to have a Pina Colada equal to those we imbibed on Rarotonga, we ordered a couple. They were good, but not quite there. The quest continues. It was very pleasant out there in the shade and the breeze, enjoying an afternoon cocktail. We could have returned by walking across the lagoon because the tide was out, but opted for the more obvious path back to our buré where we adjourned to the chaise lounges out the front to enjoy the scenery. Every person that went past said “bula” and many stopped for a chat, including a travel agent from Canada. She was part of a group on a whirlwind tour of selected Fiji resorts. 8 resorts in 8 nights. That is cruel and unusual punishment.

No prize for guessing what's in these glasses.

The sunset was quite spectacular and took me by surprise. I’d taken some shots of the sun disappearing beneath the horizon but there didn’t appear to be much colour. Not long after I’d put the camera to bed I was grabbing it again and running out the door telling Jayne to come and look at the sky. Ok it wasn’t quite the Aurora Borealis, but the colours were spectacular as they bled into the coming dusk. It was like a painting where someone had smudged the horizon into the evening, although the photos don't do it justice. Very special.

the sacrifices I make for my art

Prior to this reminder from nature about how insignificant we are, I learned a very valuable life lesson that I wish to share with, you dear reader. Underwear. Don’t leave home without it, to paraphrase Karl Malden. While I was sitting on the beach in my sarong, watching the sun dip below the horizon, I sincerely regretted going commando, as the young people used to say back in the day. Why? I hear you giggle. Well, let’s call them midges because I know not what they are. Small dark coloured bugs that were nipping my legs as I waited for the sky to colour with the sunset. Legs and feet getting bitten is a whatever moment for me, I’ve never blistered or had any reaction to sandflies or mozzies. However, one little midge bit me where no man ever wants to be bitten. Unless of course they are some sort of fetishist. Again, I say, underwear. It’s your friend. Jayne, ever helpful, offered ice to allay the discomfort.

Dinner was at the restaurant by the pool, also where we will have breakfast tomorrow. It is a beautiful place, close to the water, the breeze keeps the temperature down and the guests are serenaded by the locals playing a range of songs. Tonight was ‘roast’ night and there was another amazing array of food. Three roasts plus seafood, vegetables, salads, seeds, fruit, on and on and then dessert. Or six or eight. Another wide choice.

While at dinner, we amused ourselves by watching two local cats try and cadge scraps from the diners. It was a touchy business. The cats had to endear themselves to particular diners and stay well away from the local wait staff. The group of travel agents sat nearby and were responsible for the following quote: “If you haven’t had it before, camel milk is an acquired taste. It is very salty”. So there you go. Can’t say I expected to hear a conversation like that on a beach in Fiji.

And that is about it. The biggest decision of the day concerns leaving the air con on or turning it off and relying on ceiling fans. We could both do with a decent night’s sleep, it’s been a while.

Until next time.