Love Lift Us Up - Fiji, Malolo Island, Musket Cove

 Warning: longer than usual post to follow. Get a drink or a cuppa.

She did it. Jayne went the omelette option for breakfast – mushroom, ham and cheese and was well pleased with the outcome. As ever, I opted for more pedestrian fare and had bad coffee with fruit and pastry. What is it with brewed coffee in 2022? Why has no one introduced the espresso coffee machine to Fiji? Has Australia had no influence here? Actually there was an espresso machine. However, you had to order the coffee, another thing that was overlooked in our introduction to the restaurant.

It was another stunning morning, not a breath of wind and already 27° by 8am. There is not much on the agenda today, a swim, a massage, a walk, another swim perhaps, reading on the verandah. It’s a life.

At breakfast this morning, I was able to feed one of the Bulbuls that bravely takes on the numerous marauding Indian Mynahs, damn ferals that they are; the Mynahs, not the Bulbuls. They hang out in packs, tormenting the local birds and resident cats; again, the Mynahs. So, I was happy to reward the Bulbul with a small piece of muffin for his or her bravery.

Some fresh muffin was his reward.

Following breakfast, we walked down to reception to check out “what’s on”. Not a lot of things for us, but there was a Kokoda class. We are a long way from New Guinea so this was intriguing. Jayne asked what it was about. “It’s a cooking class,” came the reply. Interesting, so is Kokoda a style of cooking? “No. It’s a fish. You prepare it and eat it raw”. Not quite a cooking class then. More a food preparation course. NSW TAFE would know the difference. It's not actually eaten raw, it’s cured in a mixture of lemon juice and coconut milk, from memory. Google it but don’t correct me. I really don’t care.

Ever since we visited Rarotonga, I have wanted to buy a bracelet with a single black pearl. They had one at the shop where we bought Jayne’s pearl earrings but I was indecisive and didn’t buy it. A regret I’ve carried ever since. I’ve searched for something similar, online and when we visited Broome - to no avail. Jayne casually mentioned she saw something similar in the island shop at reception. Clearly that was our next stop. And there it was. Just as I remembered. A single black (read black/green) pearl on a twined leather bracelet secured in place by silver. It is now mine!

Next, mission impossible, a map of the island. The tourist blurb bangs on about walking trails through the palms, blah blah blah, to get people to book the idyllic South Pacific holiday. Yet, we were not furnished with a map upon arrival. Nor were we encouraged to explore our new locale on the brief introductory walk to our accommodation. There was nothing in our buré to assist with island navigation but there were clearly things to see. So, to reception we went with our simple request, “A map of the island please.”

Not so simple it turned out. Lights flashed above our heads; sirens were screaming in the rooms behind reception with a blinking neon sign “troublemakers”. I find it difficult to believe that no one has asked the question before. There are two other resorts on this side of the island, an airstrip separating us and it was made clear we shouldn’t visit the other resorts. Interesting, since the couple we shared our dinner table with the other night were planning on spending time there because that is where their daughter is holidaying. OK then, we don’t visit Plantation Island Resort. Although we wouldn’t require a map for that journey. It is clearly visible across the lagoon. I don’t think even Jayne could take a wrong turn on that short trek!

After several minutes of colleague consultation and then, research on the computer, (the reception girl was probably playing solitaire to look like she was trying help us), we drew a blank. Then, indifferently, a well-worn map was produced from within a drawer and a photocopy was made. See, it wasn’t that difficult. Much.

Then it was time for the massage. Hayley, who usually straightens out my old, crooked body, ensures that the answer to the question, “How was the massage?” is never “relaxing”. Not so here. A holiday massage. De-stressing and relaxing, although she did find some points of interest that will guarantee I’ll be seeing Hayley shortly after returning home.

While I was being de-kinked (just leave that alone), Jayne was relaxing on the verandah with a novel. It really is a tough life here. Books down, lagoon time. The only drawback being sunscreen. I detest the stuff although it is a necessary evil.

After bobbing around for 30 minutes or so, we went to the restaurant to check out the lunch situation. Normally we would eschew lunch. Seriously, how much can one person eat? But I’m approaching my buffet limit and am looking for options. Whatever was being offered for lunch today was not going to entice me to eat, so we walked on, towards the airstrip to have a look. It looked like an airstrip. Thoroughly unremarkable, although on the other side of it, we did see a man in a sentry-type house, next to a boom gate that had a stop sign on it. Presumably this was to discourage Musket Cove ‘resorters’ from fraternising with the other resort patrons. Like a high school dance separating the love interests. 

A Wandering Tattler racing us to the lagoon

On the return trip to the verandah to enjoy the afternoon breeze and sunshine, we walked past the fire pit where part of dinner is often prepared. Tonight, it would appear we are having slow-roasted suckling pig. Jayne is excited. I am, meh. I hope there are some interesting salads.

I am not far from ordering a late pizza at the Island Bar and skipping the buffet dinner. I love eating pizza in different parts of the world. It is, as I have remarked previously, the true international food. It also allows me to be bitterly disappointed. I have had some really bad pizzas in my travels. That’s a story for another day.

It now time for the big reveal, dear reader. Are you seated? Today could be an alcohol-free day. I know, I know. Instead of wading or walking out to the Island Bar, we opted to put our freshly minted map into use and navigated the northern end of the island. Excited? Don’t be, it was rather unspectacular. There are some interesting houses with excellent views of the Pacific but I’m not certain if they are private or available for rent. There are also some other island villas on other lagoon-style waterways. It did provide an interesting perspective looking back at the marina. There were also plenty of dead frogs. A major island pastime appears to be obliterating frogs with your vehicle. We passed many flat examples of former amphibian life.

Looking toward Island Bar and the deep water channel.

Exercise instead of alcohol – what is to become of me?

Dinner is up next. Oh, be still my beating heart, another buffet with precious little choice of wine. I have had it up to pussy’s bow with grassy NZ sav blanc and too-sweet rosé. The trader ship has been sighted the last couple of days but, as previously mentioned, so far it has not had a positive impact on the wine selection. An AFD is a big chance. Stay tuned.

Alas, an AFD was not to be. Jayne attempted to order a pinot noir to go with the suckling pig. There were two choices, both out of stock. Unsurprisingly. She settled on a cab sav which, when paired with an ice bucket, proved to be an excellent wine. Red wine at blood temperature is not pleasant. I could never be a vampire.

Perhaps I’m reading too much into dinner service but I’m seeing a pattern. The night some new guests arrived from England, we had Yorkshire Pudding to accompany the roast beef. I know that’s a thing, but in Fiji? It seemed somewhat incongruous. Last night, one of the new couples was Japanese and there was sushi. Not a major contributor to the meal, but still, sushi, and it stood out. I am hoping for visitors from Italy, China and the Middle East in the coming days.

It was the sushi that saved my evening. Ignoring the pig, the roast chicken, baked potatoes, baked pumpkin, and aubergine concoction I had fried rice, fish and sushi. OK, so the red wine was an anomaly, but finally serving light food. There was also sufficient variety of fresh vegetables to construct a salad. Perhaps tomorrow night.

In the continuing attempt to keep all the guests guessing, last night was performance night. Who knew? Not us. Just as we were finishing dinner and thinking about heading back to the buré, a couple of Fiji warriors in traditional dress appeared on the edge of the light beyond the diners. Then women, also in traditional dress, appeared and an MC stepped forward to introduce them and announce that it was performance night. It was difficult to hear the MC’s explanation for every performance but there was singing and dancing about happy things and sad things and warriors with spears, scaring little girls in the front row, the usual schtick. Although, like Advance Australia Fair, or a Banjo Paterson poem, or Scott Morrison’s tenure as PM, the performances tended to go on a little too long and audience interest visibly waned towards the conclusion of each performance.

The climax, of course, was crowd interaction. Unlike the cultural evening on Rarotonga, participation here was voluntary and did not involve the ritual humiliation of every male in the room. I was safe, this time. However, the pretty young girls in the crowd, and there were many, were targeted by the grass-skirted, shirtless, be-muscled warriors to participate in the dance. I’m sure the new husbands, who were left on the shelf, were supportive of such hijinks.

And so, dear reader, a surprise performance ended our evening. And the title today? From An Officer and A Gentleman, I’m not sure I’ve even seen the movie. As the song goes, “Who knows what tomorrow brings?" Certainly, no guest staying at Musket Cove.

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.