Fun in Jungle Island
Trip Start
Mar 14, 2006
1
317
374
Trip End
Mar 15, 2007
Tavewa Island,
Fiji
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Boarding the boat I handed over my backpack like everyone else to the baggage dude loading the boat tying a separate bag to the outside of it with my shoes in not thinking at this stage that I would never see them again.
On board the boat I soon met up with Tara an Australian also heading to Coral View resort on Tavewa Island at the end of the boat's journey meaning we were about the last to get punted off.
The journey north took us past many picture postcard islands of the sort seen in cartoons with a small lump of sand with a palm tree in the centre with some I'm sure even having a lone bearded castaway sitting on the beach
Beach
. Arriving at the end of the road for the boat we upped and readied for transferring onto the resorts smaller taxi boat at which point I picked up my backpack suddenly noticing a distinct lack of any other bag attached to it. Explaining to the boat's crew that I was down one bag they began searching for it until another couple who were getting off started to frantically search for their back pack which had gone missing. Realizing how unimportant my bag was in comparison, not losing an ipod, credit cards and passport, I boarded the taxi boat somewhat glad that I would not need shoes for the next 2 weeks anyway.
Crossing over to the Coral View resort the colour of the water was an amazing mix of turquoise blue and green fitting the tropical island paradise setting as we approached the resort to be greeted by the staff one by one as we came a shore. The basic but tidy place seemed to be well stocked with a good range of travelers from Dutch, Germans, Aussies, Danish, Norwegian and a few Brits. The resort, as most here are, caters just as much to the traveler as the tourist with dorm accommodation and all meals included in the price which is kinda mandatory since there ain't anywhere else to eat here. After the past few months of self-catering, a few days of self-indulgence at being waited upon certainly won't hurt
Beach Bure
.Just about everyone from the boat checked into the dorm after a quick lunch in the sand for a floor restaurant complete with stunning ocean views. Heading out and about to scout around the island and failing to find the footpath over to the other beach I took the scenic route around the beach meeting Tara at the other side who had successfully found the path. The island is small enough to walk right around but some rocks a the southern end put a stop to that meaning we settled on lounging on the beach where we where. Tough I know.
Walking along the beach it seemed to meet every kind of South Pacific island stereotype from the palm fringed white sandy beach dotted with fallen coconuts leading into the amazingly blue coral filled water to the local kids playing cricket on the beach waving and smiling as we passed. Bula!
After some complimentary afternoon tea during which I met Paul from the UK we headed over to the other resort to book a trip to some caves for tomorrow hearing that they were a tad cheaper than here and also to escape the high pitch whine from a bunch of Paris Hilton wannabe Australian girls who'd just come in from some group yoga all wearing sunglasses about 3 times to big for their heads
Beachcomber Island
. Over at the other resort we ended up sitting around there for a good hour and half talking with some others staying there with everyone clearly on Fiji time and in no rush to go anywhere.With the tide having now come in we waded back along the beach a little late for dinner which was good but a little on the small size.
A salt water shower later and it was time for some International Crab Racing once the competitors had been rounded up. The money from the race went to a local school with some big bets taking place although the crabs themselves had other ideas heading in every direction on starting before the course was overrun by some larger late entries with plenty of larger crabs milling about everywhere. One of the annoying Aussie girls went and finished off any hope of intelligence beneath the mammoth sunglasses by naming their crab Celine Dion. The poor guy ended up being the only one to get stepped on - some times life can be cruelly funny.
With our crabs failing to win, or even finish, Paul and I joined up with Sue and Helen from the UK and Astrid from Denmark for a few games of cards with our luck still not improving.
