A Stirling effort

Another dreary highland day was revealed when peeking out the dew covered window first thing. Packing is becoming more familiar now and breakfast was as good as yesterday. Even if spent in a room full of bussing central European's. Managed not to mention the war so all was good. After loading the wheels and paying the bill we headed off to Inverness to collect the item left behind the day before. In doing so unduly left the road maps behind on the counter of the hotel. This has to stop. Being extremely lucky in that we were planning to go back through the Ness today anyway, all it took was an extra 25 mins to park, walk, ask, wait, collect and walk back to the car. Thus once again fully armed with the plastic fantastic we started the drive along the great rift. Lots of interesting sights with canals with locks and swingbridges. Water everywhere not just in the lakes but also cascading down the extremely impressive mountain slopes because we were also getting quite a few rain showers between patches of ...not having rain showers.

Lock Ness was fairly choppy in the strong westerly ripping up through the rift. Because we were on a fairly tight schedule we didn't spend too long looking for Nessy. Not quite sure what all the contention is about as she was plain to see when we stopped for a quick pic across to the castle. Not sure if the tourist boats noticed... whatever, we were in hurry to get to Sterling so we pushed on. The radio was nicely keeping us informed of the traffic conditions and it became more and more apparent we were running into trouble ahead. A truck had managed to roll over and spill grain all over the road. This was cause enough to block both sides of the highway and the crane called in to pick it up was not doing the job well enough to get the road clear for us in time. Honestly..the trouble people here will go to just to stop us sticking to our itinerary is extraordinary. Hopefully Brexit will fix this. And so we had suffer the indignity of loosing more than an hour by performing a huge diversion further along the coast and then up along some more incredibly scenic valleys. Stress levels were pretty high as we had to get to Stirling in time. One nifty manouver using the power of the VW to skirt an annoying bus was duly rewarded with gasps from the passenger seat and then a relatively clear run for the rest of the diversion. This got us over the highlands and eventually to Stirling on time. The castle here came well recommend (thus the anxiety to see it) and extremely rewarding it was. This is so much better than Edinburgh's attempt.

We were enthralled by the visible history, the way that it was presented and just the general ambience of the place. We were there just in time to join the last tour of the day (due to previously mentioned driving skills) and so we got the general gist and then had free poke around amongst ever diminishing crowds and a setting sun. Many, many photos taken. Some with no-one in them. Content that all day's boxes were ticked - off we took to hit hit the motorway and thus shoot straight down to the airport and our lodgings for the night. A quick sesh in the bar including dinner and bit of planning for the day's movements. Back to the room to rearrange baggage to cater for rediculous weight restrictions, penning this entry and its off to sleep for a couple of hours pending a very early start in order to see what delights the continent can bring. So long Scotland.. Maybe next time hagis will be consumed. Maybe.

Driving and drams

Throwing open the drapes over the windows revealed a scene of mist covered hills, sodden lawns and consistent rain coming out of the grey clouds overhead. The fabulous breakfast (included in room cost made it more so) was consumed with great gusto and duly satisfied we jumped into the wheels and headed off for a day tour of Speyside. The country side refused to be dulled by inclement weather and indeed seems to come alive in some respects and the drive was simply one spectacular vista after another. The digital radio cutting in and out as we traversed the various ridges and gullies provided the entertainment. Interesting to note that the Scottish based stations are far more interesting and humourous as compared the ones from down South. This is probably why Edinburgh has a world famous comedy festival whilst London doesn't. Hopefully Brexit will fix this. Stumbling across a castle on the back roads we decided not to go in due to costs, timeframes and itineraries. Did stretch the legs though. Hitting the old town of Inverness we discovered a thriving modern day metropolis surrounding streets of old buildings. One noticeable highlight of Scotland is the effort they put into hanging baskets and window boxes.

Delving into one modern shopping complex we purchased some vital supplies in Boots and left a credit card behind. Good skills..not. Unbeknownst, we hightailed out of town and headed back into the Speyside vistas to get to the distillery for the pre-booked tour. Stopping for tea and coffee at Arbelour along the way. The tour of Glenfarclas was very insightful. It's amazing the effort they go to to produce the nectar of the gods. It was here the missing card became apparent so whilst it created a bit of anxiety during the tour this was resolved at the end by the staff making a phone call to the store and sorting it out for us. How good is that! From now on this is my favourite brand. A couple of drams afterwards to prove the point...

Another pleasant drive through the scenery that does not stop giving and we got back to our comfy hotel in Tomintoul. Choosing this place was a real stroke of luck. Possibly the quaintest village we went through that meets all our needs. Dinner in the hotel - with a bus load of Germans arriving there were some great expectations of a repeated scene from Faulty Towers. All the ingredients were there. Alas all we had was a very nice (and cheap) dinner in the pub and then off to hit the huge bed in preparation for the big drive tomorrow.

Highest of high

The sun decided to come out today. Albeit only occasionally, however it certainly added to the overall picturesqueness of the Scottish vistas we experienced throughout the course of the day. The blogger arose early and wandered up the noisy road to catch the bus to the airport in order to collect the required wheels for the few days ensuing adventures. All went well until confronted by the hordes of travellers alighting from planes wanting the same thing. Hopefully Brexit will fix this. Eventually independent, we took to the roads and headed north for the highlands with a few diversions and lessons along the way. First diversion was missed turnoff's and thus insights into obscure Scottish towns. Well their main streets anyway. Key lesson was get a real map. Regardless of the tech nothing beats a good old printed piece of paper to show the way.

Another diversion was St.Andrews and setting a couple of course records. Shortest time on the tee. Most pictures taken per time spent. Least number of strokes taken. Definitely worthy of entries into the record books. Foresaking the tourist routes and using our new found technology ( printed maps) we hightailed up the highway listening to the best and worst of the 80's on our digital radio whilst the technological marvel of our VW spirited us towards our destination. Eventually we turned left and headed up in to the hills. Verdant plains graced our vision along the way. As did a variety of vistas that often reminded of home until the old stone buildings and strange sounding place names showed we were indeed in a strange land. Absolutely beautiful though. An abundance of the local floral emblem lined the roads along with green gullies, bubbling creeks, autumn leaves, an abundance of fir trees and the occasional road kill ( rabbits).

Higher and Higher we climbed. Sometimes seriously steep roads. This as a great drive. Eventually we shot over the very top of the highlands which were set up for the serious business of snow skiing. Give it a month or two and they'll be in to it. These hills are unique. They resonate in a variety of colours and shades as the varying light bounces off the vegitation patches in cacophony of patchwork patterns whilst the vista desolves into the distance. Photo's courtesy of Ro.

And thus we arrived in Tomintul. Highest town in the Speyside region and as quaint to boot. Dinner at the joint across the road from our abode was superb. Seems like the town is full of touring Middle Aged Men On Motorcycles (MAMON's). Given the well made roads it's not surprising. A couple of drams of the local finest whilst listening to the life imitating art of the bar staff soap opera was thoroughly entertaining whilst increasing the verbosity of this post.

Rule Britannia

After another of the same breakfast (when you're on a good thing...) We headed back into town by bus to hop back on the hoponhopoff bus again. Talk about bus city. We've now been on so many busses in the last three days we're starting to feel like Reg. This journey took us down to the port of Lieth where the cast aside relic of the grandiose days of the empire lays permanently lashed to the warf so millions of milling tourists can get thier fill of royal regalia and some interesting insights into the mindset of the first family.

From Phil's taste in bamboo furniture ( obviously allowed to stay just to keep the guy from saying more politically incorrect comments) to Charles's casting couch the royal yacht Britannia is very interesting couple of hours. All visitors are handed ingenious tour guide devices which effectively keeps the noise volumes down to respectful murmur because everyone is too busy concentrating on their own personal tour that they no need to shout at each other as they normally would. Once we'd done the ship we then headed up to the top deck to have tea and scones. Just as Liz had done so many times before. In a sense it's a pity she couldn't have run the house hold finances a bit better and been able to keep the rig. Maybe it was the embarassment of having a whole industrial laundry on board in order to clean the stained sheets..

Pondering these questions we split the team. The girls headed off on the hoponhopoff to explore the underground city whilst the boys went off to explore the delights of the Scotch Malt Whiskey Appreciation Society. Apparently the cavern's were interesting. Needless to say the delights of partaking in the best the country has to offer in the auspices of the grand old rooms filled with grand old members was awesome.

The trip back on the hoponhopoff was extremely long. Edinburgh peak hour traffic was slowing all progress to a snails pace and it seemed the people who control the traffic lights program may have either be having a few drams at the time or there were bagpipes playing in the background...maybe both. Anyway - hopefully Brexit will fix it. Back at base camp we said good bye to Sarah and Nick who had to go back to work tomorrow and we settled into a different room for the night. Being lulled to sleep by the dulcet tones of the roaring traffic interspersed by the innane chatter of the drunken smokers out the front of the pub below.

Up on the parapet

A scrumptious breakfast in the White Lady kicked the day off with a great start. Hopefully Brexit won't stop the locals from consuming international cuisine such as Eggs Benedict. Whilst the four us spent most of the day playing tourist there was an underlying theme of obtaining a SIM card for local access. Needed a Tesco ( as one does when in the UK). Up to the centre of town (Waverly) to get our hoponhopoff passes and then hopped on the green bus for a verbal description of the points of interest on the twisting (and sometimes retraced route. Hopping off up near the top of the volcanic plug on which the castle resides we blended in and thus became part of the milling throng of tourists who were all there to do exactly the same as us. Wondering how much it would cost to actually get the bagpipes to shut up instead of encouraging them to continue we strolled through the middle of the Tattoo stadium where the workmen were sitting around obviously content in knowing that by the time they'd spent months pulling down the temporary seats they could have a quiet month of R & R in (say) the Bahamas and then come back and put them up again for next year's event. Maybe it's this kind of situation that inspires the pipes compositions... Once we toiled up the hill we spent a few very interesting hours exploring the structures, the history and thus some of the culture of the country. We were there for the one o'clock salute which was remarkable in that is was a dull (yet moving) thump but the echoes that came back were seriously shot like. Luckily for the people in Lieth these artillery men are like a specific demographic - which always fire blanks. During all these shenanigans the rain started in earnest.

Downstairs we indulged in lunch at Maggie Dicksons - served by a couple of young touring Aussies. Apparently Maggie came back to life after being hanged and went on to lead a fullfilling life. Had she had known that 300 years later her legacy would result in facilitating this annoying people's relentless journeys around the globe she may have relaxed a little more on gallows. Following a great midday repleshment we trod off through the pouring rain on the search for SIM bearing Tesco's. No luck so it was back on the hoponhopoff bus to get off the plug and eventually we did hunt down one of shops. So much effort for such a little piece of plastic. Taking the bus to the limits we alighted and then headup up (one of many) stair cases to the old town again. Then ensued a fruitless hunt for a subterranean city. At least it gave us a focus to while away the minutes in preparation for the next session. Pre's in the Albanach (lots-o-fun) followed by dinner at another Italian eatery. A very unique constantly nut munching taxi driver got us home safely enough. Followed by a dram nightcap back at the lady was a fitting end to an awesome day.

Off to bonny Scotland

A long sleep from exhaustion at the normal local times and wholah! No jet lag. Throwing open the drapes revielled a cold drab Sunday morning in quiet central Manchester. A jaunt across the road to the train station confirmed our realisation that we had chosen the wrong hotel location. After breaky at a nearby cafe this was easily resolved by a short taxi trip. We arrived early and luckily we asked for assistance to find out our line was closed due to a landslide as a result of a burst water main. Hopefully Brexit will improve the infrastructure. The advice we received was excellent. A mad dash up and down stairs saw us catching an earlier train to a different station on the Northern line where we ended up on our pre-booked service in our reserved seats shooting though the rain sodden green fields and hedgerows under grey skies. How very English. Hurtling through the northern reaches, the well appointed train passed very picturesque country side. The hedges give way to stone on the higher farms where the sheep and cows are lying around - obviously exhausted from consuming the rich green grass. The ubundant creeks and rivers look fresh and clean and as we headed to the scotchish capital the clouds tried to give way to the sun...to no avail.

Arriving in Edinburgh we were warmly greeted with hugs and longing friendship tears by Sarah and Nick who made damn sure that priories were correctly dealt with by hitting the nearest pub to the station. The fact that he has business ties to the place is inconsequential to the pioancy of the situation. It was a great intro to the town... looking past the patrons to the famous castle perched on a rock framed by an arched window was awesome. As was the company. The hospitality continued by showing us the bus route to our fabulous room at the White Lady and then back into town for pre's at an old converted bank (into a bar...now there's an idea worth pursuing...for all branches... anyway I digress....). Suitably lubricated we slidded up the road to Jamie Oliver's Italian restaurant for dinner. When in Rome..... Back at the lady the girls went to sleep whilst the boys went for a night cap...or two until flicked out by the closing bell.

To the other side of the planet

The first flight out in the morning is definitely the way to go. Apart from the pain of getting up at 2am. The girls kindly got up as well and drove us out to the port. No traffic. Straight in. Moderate check-in. Straight through customs, duty free and onto the bird which actually departed early! Picture that! So we settle in for 13 hour stint in our own 2 seats down the back. The Joy of booking early and selecting your own seats. And so from the cold green dark of Melbourne we winged our way through sunrise over the Sundrenched Land, blue tropical waters,the Asian sub continent and into the hot dry bleached deserts of North Africa. An extremely easy transfer in Dubai and here we are - perched up the front top deck of a new A380. 2 seats to ourselves again. Luxury in economy. Internet access in the air (thus the post)

The middle east is pretty much a trouble zone these days. In order to avoid the worst of it we snuk up the coast of Iran (admiring their agricultural efforts in very harsh climate). Slipped around the edge of Turkey and used the Black Sea as cover until we got to the friendlier skies of the west. By the time we landed in Manchester the world had turned green again and the houses had peaked roofs and the accents all went a little wierd. All in all it all went according to plan. Hopefully with a decent sleep catch up the interesting stuff will start tomorrow.

Last Day in Paradise

Possibly the best morning weather wise we got up and took advantage of the late checkout (because no-one was due in today). A snorkel for both of us before breakfast is a petty cool way to start the day.

The loss of a thong (left too close to the gobbling swells) was tolerated as it was no longer required anyway. A lazy morning in the cabin ensued as the wind picked up again. A slow pack and then a last lunch before checkout in the packed dining room. So whilst we jumped into the good car for the long drive back to Nadi it was with regret as we left behind a beautiful place packed with beautiful people and the whole coast basking in a beautiful day weather wise.

12 hours door to door... the trip was uneventful - apart from a split cup of red wine all over oneself. It's delightful being pinned into the same position for 6 hours smelling of wine, getting cold from it and knowing your clothes will be ruined as a result. Ah the joys of travel....At least Melbourne International was freely moving (1st time ever) - suspect this was due to only two small flights landing at the time.

This is what we came for

The sky was an unbroken sheen of glorious blue when we flipped open the shutters and drew back the blinds. Whilst the persistent easterly continued to.... persist, at least this was the type of vista we expected when we first envisaged this foray. And so in order to make sure we could tick off as many items on the "to do" list as possible.. first up breakfast..nah kidding ..that wasn't on the list... Kayaking was and Kayaking we did.

Paddling furiously against the wind and currents we weaved our way amongst the coral spikes to get as near as we could to the outer reef. Yep.. we eventually got stuck. Teamwork prevailed and we easily zoomed back (with a tailwind and current to help) to our beach front harbour. Next (on the list) was repeating the long trek back along the picturesque beaches to a perfectly located boutique. Run by locals and leveraging off the Hideaway clientele this little shack offers manicures, pedicures, massages, and tattoos.

Partaking in all but the later the following hour or so was spent whiling away the time there whilst effectively giving to the local village. An interesting setup....Perched somewhat precariously between the main road and the cliffs to the beach and backing onto the resort concrete wall (think Berlin ..or maybe modern day Israel ...soon to be Mexico/US .... get my drift here?) the staff are....well locals learning the trade. If you want a 1st world Toorak Road Armadale experience then stay there. The views out the windows of the corrugated iron extension perched high over the beach which houses the 3 massage tables is priceless. The strength in the fingers (let alone the physique) of the masseurs is testament as to why they recently won their first Olympic gold medal.

And thus rubbed, oiled, clipped, filed and painted we fell out of the shack into the burning sun and facing a 4 km walk home. Which we did. Foresight is great...we had sunscreen to reapply and so it was a glorious trek back over now well known terrain. Along the way we picked up previously noted biochemical hazards ..D-Cell batteries. Thought there were 4 ... eventually collected 10 of the monstrosities. Someone around here needs some educating.

Lunch ensued (not on the list...) and then kick back and see if the weather will be kind....and it was. A dip in the (always tempting for the last week) pool at our doorstep was performed (yep...it was on the list) by one and the other later on headed to the outer reaches of the reef - this time armed with two underwater cameras and snorkeling gear (also on the list). Combined, capturing over an hour of never to be looked at footage. At least a couple of selfies may prevail. The reefs are great, mostly so because you can walk out your door and go straight into them. Very few places in the world you can do this. (Note to self : don't be here when a tsunami rolls in.). By then then sun was heading elsewhere an d Pre's were the order of the day. By the time we emerged from our little slice of heaven the sun had gone, Venus was brightly chasing it and in the other direction the full moon was shining brightly behind (curiously) still palm fronds..

And the wind doth blow

The sou'easterly had turned pretty much full on easterly and bordering on gale force as we stumbled out of the cabin after a hard night of arguing with poorly written blog construction apps and inadequate tools running them. The morning was subsequently taken up by trying to recover the losses of the night before. Having posted a 2nd hand version (never as good as the original) we headed off downwind along the beach with the aim off reaching the Hideaway for a reminisce of days long past and prior to current coupling.

Once again the locale comes alive when out of the wind. Leaving our towel behind (hitchhikers all over the galaxy shudder in disbelief) the trek past villages, jungle, elders sitting on rocks, choral deserts and river crossings ( yep..more wet feet) was delightful. Somewhat more exotic than traipsing past houses in 1st world suburbia. The resort was ..well...a resort. Manicured gardens between the plethora of villa's nestled beneath a canopy of palm trees. No one on the extensive beach.

Eventually found everyone crowded around the one pool. Kids screaming. A pod of wannabee scuba divers looking totally out of place in less than 1 meter of water. All the deck chairs full of lounging tourists. Without breaking stride we glided through so thankful that we had our slice if heaven to go back to.
Needless to say the headwinds on the way bank were tiring but to be in the warm tropics on a deserted beach is worth a strong breeze or two.

Stopping at our towel we plunged into the shallow waters to cool off after our efforts (8 kms). Well actually the water is so shallow at low tide it was more "lower ourselves into the remaining dregs"...still clear, clean and refreshing though.
The afternoon was consumed by massages alternating with reading and with the wind continuing at its feverish pitch putting paid to any notion of water activities.
Then pre's. Then dinner. Then blogging. Then bed. Day done.

This is what Paradise is all about.

The early morning sun cast yellow beams of happiness through the green fronds of the palm trees and onto the gleaming white sands signalling the beginning of a day with a somewhat ambitious agenda.

Given the conditions - immediately after pancakes for breakfast we threw ourselves into a snorkelling foray in the waters lapping on (well OK then ..20 meters away from) our doorstep. Then we wandered up the road in order to jump on top of a couple of previously mentioned "Rollin' in sands" horses and spent the next hour strolling along the beach conveyed by beasts.

Beware the horse snorts and I was....frequently.Very well trained and beautiful animals. A very generous gesture by Ro to jump off and run up to our kitchen to snag some carrot treats for them. Next we jumped into our hosts brand spankin'  4wd and headed off up into the forests in search of rushing waters. Arriving in a local village we had to partake in the traditional greeting ceremony (kava and coordinated clapping - shoes and hats off, cross legged in grass mats, $50 donation to the village) followed by the chance to purchase a plethora if local handcrafts.

Happily handing over the dosh ( they need it - especially the chief - he gets all of Wednesdays takings - seriously - other days goes to the school etc.)  and having no cash left afterwards for delightfully decorated ornaments we headed upstream. Into the plush rainforest we plunged. Luckily the path was well trodden and the aforementioned funds were paying the way for a paved path to keep the tourists feet from mud and slippage. And thus more will come. 9 river crossings (wet shoes) and 3km through classical jungle landscape we arrived at the waterfall. Pristine and perfect, we frolicked in the crystal clear fresh waters.

It was only after prompting, our guide (Daniel) informed us that the natives considered these waters to hold mystical fertility powers. If our kids get a sibling out of this there will need to be some serious scientific studies into exactly what is floating in these waters after so many generations of "frolicking" by the locals. The chicken and tuna sandwiches we ordered for lunch were a lesson - in both taste and in ordering - clarifying when specifying when one wants a variety....not a combination. Heading back down we crossed the 15k steps mark on the Fitbit  and the 18th river crossing for the day (woo hoo!). The drive back to the compound ( well it is behind a big concrete wall) was insightful with Wayne the owner espousing how difficult it is to make life work as an ex-pat in Fiji. 1st world problems in a 3rd world country....at least he's giving it a red hot go. Back at camp we luxuriated in our 1st world privileges. One on a deck chair beside the pool the other out to the far reaches of the reef - armed with nought but snorkel, flippers and waterproof camera. An hour later a 10 minute blast of one of the last vestiges of the crappy weather touched the shore. However by then it was time for debrief and cocktails back at HQ. Dinner was proceeded by a quick reconnoiter up to the ATM/supermarket/liquor shop and then we got to try and rate a new dish created by the chef. Seafood Crepe...really? can it possibly get better than this? Well - yes it can ... it's now late and it's raining.. as it's meant to do in the tropics ( e.g. at night). So care factor = 0.

Doing goodness out west

It's amazing how sometimes a plan works exceedingly well. Set it up, go with flow whilst executing and it all just falls into place...For the first time the sun was out when we woke, the wind had dropped and the crystal clear waters of the warm tropical coral reef beckoned like a siren from the rocks.

Tempted as we were, we had to forgo the pristine delights that lapped at our doorstep and instead climbed into our tiered old jalopy and headed into the gloom of the west.
Our genius hosts had managed to secure a hire car for the day at incredibly cheap rates and no paper to fill out. The poor old thing has done over 250,000 km and struggled a bit up the hills. However with a maximum allowable speed of 80kph this did not really concern us. We were by no means the slowest on the road.
Loaded with goodies we caught up with our rendezvous at the Hindu temple in Nandi.

Slight embarrassment mistaking the car park attendant for a beggar, we followed to the temporary home of the Ratu family. They normally live on the island Koro. This was directly in the path of the cyclone. Consequently displaced to the outskirts of Nadi whilst Yogen works for a nephew of a work colleague of Ro's. They have a 3 month old baby and live in a ...humpy? constructed of old corrugated iron sheets. Two rooms, grass mats covering the dirt floor. Of course - no services, no fly screens, nothing...just a will to live and a strong family bond.
Due to the close proximity of the concrete factory the baby goes elsewhere during the day. So we met Mum, Dad, Cousin, Niece and Nephew members of the family from all over.
No photo's - felt it would have been bit rude.
It was nice they cleaned up the place and offered Kava whilst were sitting cross legged on the floor in a circle however they seemed to appreciate the declination based on the need to drive. They were very happy with our two suitcases full of essentials (well what we think they may have needed anyway). Maybe next time it may be a little less awkward. So we headed off and onto a highly recommended Chinese restaurant for lunch (LC's - we were originally looking for Elsie's...).
This was followed by a quick poke around the shops of Nadi looking for obscure audio cables before we headed back south, out of the overcast gloom and back to the glistening coast. Just by the time we managed to hit the water the sun disappeared again. urrrgghhh. However the water was warm and the fish glowing brightly against the bleached coral. Dinner in the dining room with one other couple (the other one must've got room service) and a DVD before blogging saw the day to an end.

Chillaxing in the tropics

The coral coast is named as such due to the extensive coral reefs which line the whole southern edge of the main island. Extending about 200 meters from the shoreline they provide a solid barrier to the swells of the open Pacific ocean. The surf constantly pounds against the reef creating an incessant roar which filters through the wooden slats of the villa windows day and night. We have had to keep these mostly closed due to the cold wind accompanying the sound of ocean whipping through the room, making it feel like a typical winters day south of Hounville.

Lesson to be learnt: never assume warm weather in the tropics and pack accordingly.
A short stroll along the beach (before massage for the other one) this morning saw us stumbling across some frolicking horses and an interesting vertical waterfall off the reef. Thinking the weather was improving was purely due to being around the point and out of the wind. Back at Breezy Villa (where the chill winds doth blow) we were kindly entertained by Daniel. Local dude who had many talents inc. Basket weaving, Hat weaving, and other fashion accessories such as glasses and watches.

He also shimmied up a tree to get some fresh coconuts for us to drink from. Very entertaining.
Dinner was delightful. This is certainly the place to come to relax away from the maddening hordes. Given the weather it also puts a whole new meaning to the verb chillax. We do however remain hopeful the sun will prevail at some stage and allow us to
fully enjoy the delights this place has to offer.
Tomorrow we head off into the wild west to seek out some deserving souls.....

A Change in the weather

The locals are abuzz with the fact that the weather is behaving so weirdly. This cold wind and rain is not apparently the norm for this time of the year. Some farmers are enjoying the extra water on their crops whilst others are complaining about their machinery being bogged. At this point in time Fiji itself is not victim to the rising seas of global warming due to its circular barrier reefs. However everyone knows this is just a temporary stay against the impending high tides.
We got to hear the rain pattering down all night as we drifted in an out of a well earned 14 hour sleep. Luckily meal times here are at the bequest of the guests (not dictated to by zealous resort managers) so we abide by our own timetable and thus we do whatever we like whenever we like.

Including sampling the finest the land has to offer.
The rain stopped during the day and we went for a stroll over the coral sand beaches along the coral coast taking in the pristine views of coral infused waters, ringed with palm trees waving in the strong winds over the clumps of washed up coral on the shoreline.
Our journey came to an end when we ran into a village with no clear way along the waterline. So we retreated back to our private residence and spent the rest of the day hangin' about. Watching handmade coconut milk being produced, Spars in dubious water , a massage for one and lots of books being read.

Dinner was good as was the ambience. We now have 4 couples staying in the place. It's almost buzzing with vibe.. (almost).
We've also made contact with our contact who knows how to contact the pending recipients of our extra luggage we lugged here. No doubt this will develop into a comprehensible statement over the next few bloggs....

Marooned in Paradise

Here we are. Stuck on the bottom of Viti Levu with nowhere to go and with no means of getting there.

It's raining - driven by a cool southerly coming of the NZ snow capped mountains thousands of kilometers across the sea. Any notion of exploration of either land or water is quickly forgotten as the precipitation drives the few guests inside their quaint villas. We spent many hours getting here overnight. The 5hour flight was pretty much sleepless. The arival in Nadi was painful due to two flights arriving at the same time, renovations restricting the flow through customs and the really weird band of security guards acting as musicians. The drive (by our jack-of-all-trades Mani) was a fabulous insight into Fiji culture and facts. e.g. approx 850,000 people live here. Only 60 road deaths per year. Mani is obviously not happy with this and subsequently is doing his utmost to increase the stats. Hopefully the top speed limit of 80kph and the excessive speed bumps across the highways will thwart him on his unaware quest. Upon reflection though it was a very useful lesson in how to handle the roads for later.

Our resort is in the middle of nowhere and as we have no wheels it looks as if we are captured for the week. Have just signed up for the meals package so it looks as if we'll be hangin' in our room with the occasional stroll over pseudo pebbled pathways to the dining room to put on calories we have no hope of burning off. Tonight is Curry night. Paradise.

Qantas sucks

As the flight was due to leave at 6:00 pm we hung around our private wing in the hotel until midday checkout time. Handed over the bags for storage and went for a wander through Central Park up to the Museum mile on 5th. Spotting seriously expensive looking apartments on the way.

We saw famous museums such as Metroplitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim. Well we saw the outside of them at least - assume that is all that's required to say we've seen them. Using the hop on hop off bus to get back down the avenue (passing a few girls...) we headed back to pick uo the bags. Get in our pre-booked taxi (at 3:30)and got the the airport on time. Checked in and then.... Flight delayed leaving from NY Flight delayed landing in LA Now we have to fly by Sydney 16 hours quashed in between others. No explanation as to why they have stuffed it all up. Just making excuses. Treating us like cattle. My word of advise is do not spend your money flying on this airline. Go with someone who cares. Update: just arrived in Sydney after a very cramped 14 hours in the air. Question: What sort of a person gets into thier seat and lays it back as soon as they can and for as much time as they can? Answer: An inconsiderate, selfish one. Doesn't help international relations when you generally notice people of a particular culture behaving in this way. For the bloggers reference : lay it back if sleeping only. That way everyone gets along and you may find people not so keen to play push button games on the screen at the back of your head. Thanks to our carrier still being useless the flights we were all to connect with in Syndey were missed, then rescheduled, then re-allocated, then seating arrangements changed. This must be costing them a fortune. And the whole shamozzle could have been avoided if the original vehicle had've arrived in JFK on time in the first place. Root cause unknown - however totally over their excuses and inefficient ways of dealing with it.

Sydney is grey, raining and dull. Have transferred from International to domestic and we got to sit around there for 2 hours instead of recovering at home. The trip down was uneventful and obviously domestic. Arriving in Melbourne is always a joy!. Great to see the reintroduction of charging for the luggage trolleys - Now $4!! what a bargain and what a great way to great vistitors to our town - when they are a free service everywhere else in the world. Just to top off a great trip - the luggage took ages coming out - by the time some bags decided to limp out onto the carousel - they had in their wisdom decided all incoming flights should be on the one belt - so the crowd was exceptional. 3rd last bag out before the whole thing packed up (which was obviously due to the person putting them on incorrectly in the first place so they were getting jammed in the door) was ours. So we left to the sound of the PA apologising to the crowd and say their luggage delivery will be delayed pending an engineer looking at the problem. Yay Qantas - great work again! Finally arriving home 32 hours after leaving (with no sleep) we faced the prospect of nicely sanded floors and thus the need to vacuum up the dust over everything and put all the furniture back in place. As well of course of unpacking all those baggs we lugged half way around the world and wash the 3 weeks of dirty laundry contained therein.

Subterranean travellng

Lower and middle class travelling always seems to be about getting up early. This is why we were all up at 3:30 am. The girls were shutled off to the airport leaving the lonely bloggers behind to swan around in 2 adjoining rooms. 2 beds. 2 bathrooms. 2 desks. 2 TV's, 2 vistas and a private corridor connecting them. Almost upper class stuff - maybe in the 1500's perhaps but not now ( the tacky dull veneer, lack of fridges, kettles and antique electronics sort of brings it down a notch or two). So we did the obvious and went straight back into the usual collapsed state of exhaustion that is also known as sleep on this trip. Take out coffee and muffins in the spare room for breakfast whilst we made the most of the free WiFi which somehow leaks into this room and we were off to hit the town. It was all planned out based on what we'd learned so far and pretty much went to according to it. First stop was Tiffany's. Here they are so cool they do not show prices off the items on display. They did let us into the store ( which was nice). They correctly assumed we would not be needing to stop at the 2nd floor but would have the gall to walk around on the 4th and 3rd. Got some great designs ideas for the 3D printer though.

Surely the beauty is in the design - not so much the material. Time will tell. A stroll down 5th Ave and then Park Ave (yes blazon name dropping here) poking our noses into a spectacular Catholic cathedral with mass underway. A little weird as they had the doors open, swarms of the usual NY tourists streaming through - most showing the typical disregard for others. Still, the guys up the front were doing their thing unperturbed. Unfortunately it looked a little bit like a religious tourist attraction than the real deal. But what do we know? maybe its just a case of get 'em though the doors whatever it takes. Onto Grand Central Station to soak up more grandiose architecture and using that portal to plunge for the first of many times into the strange underground world that is known as the subway. Emerging to a view of Macy's in the foreground and the Empire state in the back one we wandered around in the former for a while seemingly unable to escape from the men's dept. Eventually we did and popped across the road to Stretchers to spend a riveting hour selecting shoes and writing blogs (2 people/2 separate tasks).

Then it was straight back into the subway and off downtown to Greenwich Village for a coffee in the very famous Regio's. Amidst the original Caravaggio's, the first espresso machine in NY (1927) and the standard NY milling throng the coffee was good. It was once the best in town - others may have passed in since. All very enjoyable though. Retracing our walking tour steps we went straight to John's Pizza. By now it was 4:00 pm so after scoring one of his prized booths ( somehow the doorman saw and booted out the people who jumped in ahead of us - yay for us again) we indulged in a fabulous coal fired oven pizza of which only 3 are allowed to operate any more.

So whilst the carbon footprint was pretty high the result really did seem worth it. Especially as it has been scientifically proven that NY water creates the best pizzas and bagels in the world. This of course means just in the USA as the majority of mindsets here cannot comprehend anything being better anywhere else. Then it was back into the grimy, noisy subways again to be able to luxuriate in our two bedroom alcove for 90 minutes before bouncing out again. In the crisp cold air we found our subway line closed so we up and downed a few steps until we found one working in the direction of Broadway. Finding the theatre was pretty easy as was the red guy who handed us our personalised tickets to the show. We have cinema complexes here they have theatre complexes. There is a lot of theatre being acted out here.

Shear Madness was a real hoot. Many satirical lines thrown in amongst very good and funny acting. Audience participation in solving the whodunnit plot. Leaving feeling quite uplifted our buoyancy was somewhat deflated by the how long (3 trains) subway journey home. Saturday nights sees the system slow down. The lack of information and confusion due to closed lines along with the dregs of the town does take the shine away from the whole experience. Despite that it was a great day. The subways did get us around the huge metropolis quite well and in the end (once again) we collapsed into an exhausted and extended sleep - ignoring the ever present sounds of sirens echoing around the concrete canyons. Tomorrow the long trek home begins.

The day after

Almost being on a first name basis with the café next door now. Today was French toast, fruit salad, pancakes and hangovers.

Heading back to the same park of last nights revelries we took in the southern end. All is quiet on new years day. also a bit chilly with the sun trying to break through the cold grey clouds. Early enough to avoid the major queues (QWT 15 min) at the museum of Natural History we spent a couple of hours wandering the halls looking at stuffed animals and the planets place in the universe as well as the changes its currently undergoing. Really interesting stuff. Fully expecting (hoping ?) the various creatures to burst out of their realistic 3D enclosures and start consuming the (ever increasing in numbers) prey staring at them - we kept moving. Time was against us so we probably missed a significant slice if the place. Upon exit the queues were significant (EQWT up to 1hr) stretching out into the street. Little did they know that there were also queues (EQWT 45 mins) in the subway entrance just below them as well. Grinning we walked past them all and travelled down under to the square precinct to collect our hop on hop off bus passes. The queue was EQWT 15 minutes. Due to our priority status we were waved through much to the chagrin of those standing there. We certainly don't look important. More like stressed, worn out and ragged. With tickets in hand we headed into the vastly less populated but still chaotic place they call a square which which is anything but. QWT for the double decker bus was 30mins.

However it is almost impossible to be bored in this particular spot. The digital signage is world leading and incredibly distracting. Must cost a fortune to run. Apparently it costs $1m per month Just to be on the H&M sign!!. Feeling a few drops of snow (not powder - so for all we knew it may have been from a high flying 747 - yeech) we still decided to sit in the open air to get the views and the uninterrupted shots. 2 hours later we'd circumnavigated downtown, seen all sorts of famous places, landmarks, learnt about architecture and gotten frozen to the bone.

Shivering uncontrollably we alighted uptown near our historically named hotel ( which, as it transpires, the facilities were also installed in the "Renaissance" period) walked the few blocks in the dark (4:30 pm) to get in and then had a hour to warm up and get ready for the next excursion. Harlem for diner. Yo Bro - this is where the cool black people hang out and create their own unique slice of NY culture. Music, dialect, art, history and most importantly - food (well for us anyway). So we went to Red Rooster. Now just to clear this up. This is NOT the fast food chain we have in Aus.

This is the highly popular restaurant in the centre of Harlem. We hung around in the bar for our reserved table to become clear. Without this reservation we would not have got in at all. Queue jumpers that we are. The food was great and yes - some chicken was had. Feeling very pleased with our choices of restaurants, preplanning and general cleverness in getting around we shot back down 1st Ave in taxi to get the girls packed and grab what sleep we could (barring blogging time of course).

an NYC NYE

And we thought the day before was big.... Up early in the hope of beating the crowds was the aim. Breaking fast in our (well its ours now as its the second visit) eatery/café next door to the hotel - the subway beckoned. Diving down into the dirty, gloomy tiled corridors ( as are most subways around the world) we navigated the ticketing system and journeyed downtown below town. Efficient system: really, really long trains (compared to home) full of a wide variety of people of all classes, creeds and mindsets (aka: characters). Popping up around the corner from the World Trade Center we joined the queue for tickets. This is what everyone does in NY. Stand in queues. Well the visitors do anyway. Generally the queues are sort of efficient and most of the big queues are related to security. The longer the wait - the more likelihood of a thorough security check being performed. This had a QWT of approx. 30 mins. This was just for ticket purchase. then we had a QWT of 10 minutes to get in and through the security checks and we were into the 9/11 Museum at Ground Zero.

This was as tastefully done as possible considering the subject matter. Very moving and would be well received by those close to the event and the consequences. Much better if it had not have happened at all of course. There is no doubt that there is now a huge industry booming (security) as a result of the stupid situation. The few hours were there was not really enough, however time was pressing as were the as were the crowds. Extracting ourselves from the our first of many presses of the day we then subwayed a few stops north for a walking tour of Grenwich village. Lunch in a traditional diner (complete with short order chefs) beforehand set us nicely for a 2 hour stroll around this Bohemian historically story rich part of town. From the gentry to Hendrix, the Friends apartment to the smallest house on the island. The locals make claim to many facets of the town. Vowing to return we rushed back uptown to get ready for the big night. Starting with a (free) return to the Top of the Rock the night was clear and we got all the snaps we wanted.

From here we also saw the ball go up in Times square. The security and the crowds were quite simply insane. All roads to the square were blocked off. Unless you had a pass or proof that you should be in the zone - you were turned away. Little did we know this beforehand as our restaurant was indeed in the zone. Needless to say we managed to penetrate it couple of times without either. Our fine dining diner was very enjoyable, however as they had two sittings ( no advice beforehand) we were ejected at 9:00 pm. People just outside were being frisked by the cops so we stayed in the zone and went up to join the party on 6th for a while. All we could see was a sea of people all looking at the temp tv screens showing the action on the stages set up in the square.

A full on variety show going on. After getting the vibe we left the building crowd of a million people(!!) and went to a pub to while away an hour or so. couldn't believed out luck. The pub wasn't busy at all. No one could get near it. So after a fun build up we grabbed our plastic party hats an hightailed it to Central Park. Passing on the way thousands of people queuing to get into the zone. Had they have got in ( which they wouldn't have - they would not have seen anything anyway). So while we stood on a hill watching the fireworks in the park they stood in a queue on the sidewalk watching... nothing. Yay to us.

So a stumble back through the crowded yet joyous streets to the hotel. Where we had a very confusing time getting back into our rooms due to access cards being cleared, stupid policies and a faulty door. Eventually collapsed into bed about 2:00.