It was 5.30 in the morning. I could hear melodic singing. That I may be hallucinating after around thirty hours of travelling didn't seem too surprising.
My husband and I traipsed wearily towards the Passport Control queue at Nadi International Airport. It was no hallucination: three men in colourful shirts were softly playing guitars and a ukulele. Their gentle harmonies soothed us like a lullaby. We smiled in wonder. I would soon learn that this was my introduction to all things quintessentially Fijian.
My husband and I traipsed wearily towards the Passport Control queue at Nadi International Airport. It was no hallucination: three men in colourful shirts were softly playing guitars and a ukulele. Their gentle harmonies soothed us like a lullaby. We smiled in wonder. I would soon learn that this was my introduction to all things quintessentially Fijian.
We flew from the international airport to Savusavu on Fiji’s
second largest island. This tiny local airport consists of one landing strip
for small aircraft and a little communal area for arrivals and departures.
If Fiji hadn’t already won my heart, the simplicity of the departure gate at
Savusavu’s airport certainly did.
I found so much to delight me in Savusavu that I knew we had found a place where I wanted to live… at least for a time.
Paradise Handling? A courier service perhaps? No… it was a carpentry business which made tool handles to order.
A roadside canteen declared itself open 24 hours a day for travellers: I never tested that claim!
We supported the local hospital through Rotary. Fortunately, I didn't ever have occasion to use the hospital personally.
Although the decision to leave Fiji was voluntary, I left a piece of my heart behind. I have so many articles, stories and anecdotes from when I lived there, I'm currently working to turn them into a book. I'm a long way from the finish line, but I'll give a shout if I achieve my aim.
See you next week for something completely different.
See you next week for something completely different.
