The Sounds of Then - Fiji, Malolo Island, Musket Cove

Our third day commenced a little earlier than expected due to an unseasonal thunderstorm. At dinner last night we were aware of the lightning in the background but couldn’t hear any thunder so we assumed it was a long way off. At 11:15pm thunder had become the new sound track replacing the rattle and hum of the air con and whirring and clicking of the fans. Whichever way you look at it, it's better than Redfern's concrete saws and sirens. By midnight the thunder was the rain on the tin roof. It sounded far worse than it was and when I looked outside, the grass in front of the buré was populated by frogs. Perhaps the next plague is on its way; we've already endured fire, flood and the Morrison government. The storm was done by 1am and replaced by a gentle breeze. Louvres open, air con, back to sleep.

I’m sure, my dear reader, you are curious about today’s title. How does a classic Gangjagang song about Australia fit with our holiday in Fiji? Sing it with me, “out on the patio we sit, and the humidity we breathe, we watch the lightning”, OK, let’s stop there. That is pretty much our world at present. Except our view is the Pacific Ocean and surrounding islands and we can wander off to the pool or down to the water’s edge at any time to cool off.

The lagoon in the morning

We discussed the storm at breakfast with one of the locals who said it was unseasonal and probably linked to climate change. Despite the pathetic posturing by current Australian LNP politicians, climate change is very real here and threatens, not just their way of life, but their world. The tide is in as I type this and we are barely 1 metre above the water level. While the reef protects the islands from the kind of storm surge we experience in coastal Australia it can only be a matter of time before rising sea levels have a devastating impact on the communities of the South Pacific. It’s hardly surprising that the Solomon Islands are seeking a closer friendship with China, given the disdain with which the Australian Government has treated Pacifica’s climate concerns.

Looking at to the Island Bar

Sunrise was around 6am. No photos. I was merely up to adjust the air con. We did roll out of bed just after 7 and headed for the pool to make use of the 25 metre lap swim area. A heated (it could be natural), salt water pool was not as easy to swim in as I first thought. The salt was extremely dehydrating. We managed 20 laps before breakfast.

Breakfast, like dinner last evening, was a buffet. There was quite the choice: bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, omelettes made to order, fresh fruit, cereal, yoghurt, an assortment of pastries, bircher muesli and more. It was quite pleasant to linger over a coffee and watch the resident cats attempting to get fed, or the bulbuls flying ever closer to the diners, hopeful of some crumbs.

Did I mention the heat and humidity, dear reader? It is almost too hot to drink alcohol. We are going through bottled water at a great rate. Probably at a 5:1 ratio to rosé, the current wine of choice. Quite unusual for us in holiday mode.

The day drifted by, assisted by a pleasant breeze. We picked up our flippers in anticipation of our Cloud 9 experience and headed out beyond the island bar to have a practise snorkel. It’s been a while. Actually, it’s been an eternity and our goggles and snorkels (we bought our own you know, covid and stuff) were covered in a thick layer of Redfern dust. Ah, how we miss the sounds of sirens and construction and traffic. Nah, not so much.

There is not a lot of coral here, although they are clearly attempting to grow their own. Now that was a tempting title for today. No? Neil Young, Homegrown. Anyway. They have a series of steps down into the water where we sat and washed our goggles and put on the flippers. The visibility today, official rating, was shit. It was very cloudy, the water, not the sky. There were plenty of small colourful fish, numerous blue starfish and the coral re-growth was fascinating to see. Some of it was growing on rope attached to other outcrops. As a place to snorkel, I’ve experienced better, but it was just to test the equipment. Also, I believe it would be a better experience in the morning. We shall see.

Post snorkelling the decision was – no lunch. How much can one person eat? We lounged and re-applied sunscreen for the adventure to Cloud 9. The name promises so much. Jayne was concerned about the transfers, by boat, a question we would pose prior to departure. And then, there was an epiphany moment. We are standing there, ready to embark, snorkel, flippers, beach bag, discussing the ease of access and egress and the guy we’re talking with makes everything clear. Cloud 9 is NOT a snorkelling platform. It is a multi-level pizza bar. People, read millennials, pay $75 each for the pleasure of being transported to a floating dance club. I have no doubt the pizza would not live up to expectations, the drinks would be overpriced and the music … let’s not go there. And the Murdoch press thinks smashed avo is stopping millennials from owning a home. His journos should get out more.

A Pacific Kingfisher

It was a tough decision but we opted to have a RAT instead. It is a travel requirement to have a RAT between 48 and 72 hours after arrival in Fiji.  Was it a tough decision? Let’s think about this. A couple of hours listening to ear drum splitting girls squealing and giggling, music that I detest, bad pizza, ridiculously expensive alcohol and buff boys posturing for the girls, OR have someone shove a stick up your nose. No contest. We both passed the test and were allowed to continue our holiday unhindered.

There was only one choice now, the Island Bar. It has shade. It is slightly elevated. It gets the breeze. And, it’s a bar. Bonus. The barge arrived earlier today so I’m excited for the expanded wine choice, tomorrow. Today, eschewing the rosé, we opted for a NZ sav blanc. Yep. Whatever. No need for fruit salad for dessert tonight. Curious why all the chardy and pinot gris has sold out. Or is it?

A flower. What? I'm  not Costa from Gardening Australia.

We whiled away the afternoon as the workers set up for tonight’s BBQ - for a special group. We are not among them so we don’t care. And then catastrophe. Jayne’s bikini top clasp decided to disintegrate… she let out a little squawk, a gasp and demonstrated her discomfort by the look of horror on her face. Thankfully the wardrobe malfunction was quickly salvaged via the sarong and, since my wife is a very resourceful person who plans for the unexpected – upon our return to the buré, the sewing kit was located and the bikini top has been successfully resurrected.

Crisis averted, it was time to wash off the sun screen pre-dinner and enjoy the breeze we wanted so badly yesterday.

As it turned out we were invited to the special dinner at the Island Bar. We walked down to main the restaurant to see the staff setting up for breakfast. "Dinner?" We politely enquired. “Oh, it’s at the Island Bar tonight, like every Thursday. Did you not see the sign out the front”? Clearly we didn’t. Out the front is actually the back for us. Our buré faces the water and we walk along the water to the restaurant. The front, as they refer to it, is on the other side. We have no need to walk down there, ever. It’s a pity they don’t publish a list of what’s on, what’s for dinner and the like if there is a set structure to meals and where they are going to be served. We don’t need three meals a day and generally skip lunch, but we could easily opt for lunch and skip dinner if we knew what the choices were.

That said, the Island Bar is a lovely spot with a more expansive view of the island, made the prettier by night lights across the lagoon. However, it was a little more crowded than the restaurant and we shared our table with a couple who had arrived that day.

It was a beautiful starlit walk back to the buré. While I have no regrets moving to the city, there are things I miss. The quiet nights and an inky black sky, pierced by a million sparkling stars are two.

Until next time.

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.