Let me try and describe where I am. I'm sitting on a wooden veranda looking out to sea. There's a cool breeze and the deck is built around a tree whose leaves, just above my head, provide plenty of shade from the sun.
Above the palm trees that mark the edge of the beach I can see across the water to another island about a mile away. Like the one I'm on, its steep, green sides are broken by bare, rocky outcrops and the golden sand at the water's edge. Further away I can see other islands jutting up out of the Pacific. The sea is a variety of blues: light where it's sandy, darker where the coral reefs begin, and pure azure marking the deep water. A whole shoal of small fish have just leaped out of the waves, presumably trying to avoid some predator. They do it again, making a shimmering, silver streak on the water before disappearing.
The sky here is clear but I can see cumulo-nimbus clouds stacking up, far away over mainland Fiji - a distant shadow on the horizon. The local villagers say we will have a storm tonight, but it seems hard to believe that now.
Below me is a long flat grassy area. On one side of this are the thatched buildings (called 'bures') where we are staying. On the other side, some of the local Fijian men are playing touch rugby. The game is played fast and with skill. It's clearly very competitive, but there's lots of laughter. Fiji's people always seem to be laughing. There's a New Year tradition of throwing water over unsuspecting victims, and there are squeals of delight whenever one of the women manages to drench one of the men.
I'm on Waya at the southern tip of the Yasawa group of islands about 40km north west of Fiji's main island, Viti Levu. I've been here four days now and it's beautiful. My arrival in Fiji wasn't quite so idyllic.
My connecting flight from Los Angeles was delayed and I spent a torrid seven hours in the airport twiddling my thumbs. The flight itself took 11 hours as we chased the setting sun across the Pacific Ocean. It was dark by the time we crossed the international date line and I could see the unfamiliar stars of the southern hemisphere. Going from east to west, I lost a day. At midnight on New Year's Eve, I was standing in the passport check queue at Fiji's international airport in Nadi.
When I eventually got to my hotel, I went outside to join a few of the locals by the bar. They gave me some of the traditional drink, kava. This is an infusion from a root plant. and is supposed to be mildly narcotic, although I didn't notice anything. It tastes like muddy water. The locals said I should have been here last New Year's Eve. This year's celebrations (particularly the ones with fireworks) had been cancelled after the coup some months earlier. The leader, George Speight, was due on trial the next day and there had been threats of reprisals. On my travels, I was to see a heavy military presence with armed checkpoints along the main roads.
It was hot and very humid. The change from cool, fresh San Francisco had me gasping and pouring with sweat.
I spent the next morning desperately trying to get out of Nadi. It's a small town and most places were closed for the public holiday. I walked sweating down the main street trying to find somewhere to buy mosquito repellent. I stopped to ask directions in one open shop. They were extremely friendly, and said that they sold repellent (this seemed a bit unlikely as it was a tourist handicraft shop). If I sat down and waited, one of them would go and get it from out back. After 15 minutes in which I was offered various wooden masks, shark-tooth necklaces, a visit to an authentic native village, drugs, and one, two or even three girls, I realised that the repellent wasn't about to materialise and left.
Back at the hostel, Heta, the owner's wife saved me. She found me a driver to take me to the harbour in Lautoka and a boat to take me to one of the offshore islands. The driver was great. Not only did he find me a supermarket which sold repellent, he also offered me his baseball cap when he realised I didn't have a hat for the two-hour boat trip.
At Lautoka, I squeezed into a small single engine boat with five other tourists, and here I am. I like it so much I've put my flight to New Zealand back a week. I can't send you any photos as there's no internet - the island only has electricity between 7 and 10 at night.
