Aah, Fiji.... beautiful Fiji. This is where Jane and I ended our travelling - and the words 'idyllic paradise' are really the only ones I can use to describe it.
I must admit, we had our reservations on arrival. To be fair, that we arrived alive at all was a bit of a surprise, as the pilot had clearly decided that to just drop out of the sky with maybe 100 feet still to go was the best way to touch down. Luckily at the time Jane and I were listening to 'Let's Dance' by 5ive on the Ipod and doing a sort of 'running man' type sitting-down dance so I didn't pay too much attention to the fact that we hurtled out of the sky and bunny-hopped down the runway.
As we landed in Nadi on the island of Viti Levu, the rain was drumming down in a distinctly 'this could last for quite some time' sort of a way. We were slightly nervous at the thought of spending ten days in such a place where really the only thing to do is recline in a hammock. Not forgetting reclining on a sun lounger of course, or even a on a lilo. But reclining was the key activity being promoted, and we were also severely lacking in funds. We had to make Fiji cheap. No problem.
No............real........... problem.
We made our way through arrivals and took delight in the little gaggle of swaying men wearing flowers round their necks and skirts, strumming on the guitar and singing us a tropical tune. A bit of an issue in baggage collection where I was informed that my Philippino pesos (the only money I had on me) could not be changed anywhere in Fiji so that somewhat left me scuppered with regards to cash. Thankfully Jane came to the rescue aided by Mastercard - thanks Jane!
Our backpackers lodging in Nadi was actually really very pleasant. When we got there it appeared that the owners had been waiting up specifically for us and us alone, so we were shown our room in double quick time and then left to it.
Waking up thankfully revealed nearly-blue skies which showed potential, and we enjoyed a poolside breakfast of toast and coffee with tropical fruits before setting off for a little exploration.
We didn't find that much, just a hammock on the edge of a fairly disappointing beach, but it was funny trying to fit the both of us in aforementioned hammock and we did a bit of self-photographing and filming which is always amusing in times of slight boredom. As we swung and contemplated the last leg of our journey, the rain returned in a big way so we scuttled back to shelter and watched a film in our poolside restaurant to pass some time.
Both being fairly avid fitness freaks we decided to not let a bit of torrential driving rain get in the way of a workout and we devised a short route for a run. Gradually we elongated it and it turned into a good 40 minute all-out training session. Not sure I've ever been that wet without being submerged in water, but it got the blood pumping and had the desired energising effect.
We then turned our attenion to shortening our stay in Fiji - both of us quietly thinking that ten days in the rain with nothing else to do apart from run might not be the perfect end to an amazing journey. A quick call to Qantas and our flights were brought forwards by a few days, giving us just a week to go. Even though we were both obviously happy to be in such a romantic destination, I think mentally we were also ready to get home and re-bond with our families and friends.
Neither of us wanted to spend much more time in uninspiring Nadi so we consulted the jolly lady on reception about an alternative place to visit. She recommended Walu Beach resort on Malolo Island - and the phrase 'much more sunshine' was all we needed to agree to it. The booking was made for us - at the bargain price of £25 a night each for accommodation (including a beachfront chalet upgrade from a simple dorm) and three meals a day, this took the financial worry away and we were good to go.
The following morning we hopped into a courtesy car and were taken down to the 'port' where we were to take our (uber-cheap) ferry over to Malolo Island. As we trundled down a short windy lane, we ended up behind a boat being towed by a tractor....... Yep. Our boat being towed by a tractor. We got a great comedy shot of the tractor by the sea, it seemed very incongruent with - well, the sort of vehicles you normally see by the sea, i.e. more boats and less farming equipment. A mere 30-40 minutes of faffing by the various Fijians in charge of our journey and we were in our boat. In a (really long) jiffy.
By this time the sun was making a big song and dance about coming out and we'd been a bit slack with the old sun cream, so by the time we got to our island, lets just say noses were a distinctly unsightly red colour.
The red really didn't go with the green of Jane's cheeks - never one to enjoy bobbing about on the ocean - and the journey was slightly longer than the promised '40 minutes'. I, on the other hand love being in boats and with my Ipod pumped up to the max really enjoyed the 2 hour trip. I tried to help her out by singing 'A Sailor's Life fer Meeeeeeeeeee' but not sure it did the trick.
Sorry Jane.
But! Oh happy day! How excited we were when arrived at Walu Beach! Our little chalet looked like the honeymoon suite - it was gorgeous. The pool and bar was so pretty and we even had a little gym overlooking the turquoise water comprising 2 exercise bikes (one broken), a cross trainer (broken) and a rowing machine (also broken). Dinner revealed the food to be excellent and our budget even stretched to some vino that night. Good times.
We had a bit of a giggle when we realised we were playing the ultimate 'Or' game again though (you know the one where you say stuff like 'Do you prefer cats or dogs? Would you rather be bald for life or have excessively hairy hands for life?' That kind of thing......). In our case it was 'shall we go on the internet today and chat with our families or shall we have a glass of wine with dinner?' Unfortunately we couldn't afford both. It still was a step down from Australia though where it had been 'shall we sleep in a bed tonight or have some dinner?' That was real hardcore.
And from the moment we arrived on Malolo, the sun smiled down upon us and we spent the most relaxed and contented week I think I've ever had in my life. Of course, we still did our fitness programme each day. We swam, we cycled (took it in turns on the one bike that wasn't rusted to buggery), we ran, we did press ups and sit ups and shrugged off bemused looks from the locals and other guests as we did so. What they didn't realise is this wasn't a holiday for us, just another day in life. Which I must admit sounds pretty odd.
We also kayaked out around a tiny private island opposite ours and watched the little stripey fish going about their daily business. Now kayaking is hard work - but awesome for bingo wings. Ladies, take note.
One day I went out kayaking on my own.
It rained a little on the way out, but on the return leg I gradually became very aware that the rain had stopped and the only noise I could hear was myself, pushing through the water. I stopped and floated to a halt. I cocked my head and listened........ total and utter silence. And around me complete blue. Intense blue like I've never seen before. The water was as still as a mill pond, the sky blended seamlessly at the horizon. It was a powerful moment and I once again contemplated how far I'd come and how happy I felt.
It was during this week in Fiji I fully understood the meaning and impact of Inner Peace and realised with clarity that I'd really made it there.
Every evening at about 4pm, when the light had that beautiful golden glow which lit up the water and made it sparkle, and the horizon started turning pinky yellow, I would go and sit on a boogie board, bask in the early evening sunshine, look out to sea and just smile this massive smile.
I knew that somehow for me life would never be the same again. I've always been a positive person, but I think before I've dwelled too much on the past. Of course this trip will never be forgotten, and the memories are vastly important, but what was becoming very apparent was how I needed to take what I've learned and use it to create for myself a solid, fulfilling and happier existence back at home.
Previous experiences have knocked me down, but made me stronger - and those together with such an immensely positive experience on Raleigh, it made me shiver with anticipation for my future. I feel like I am on the edge of something which cannot fail to be anything other than incredible. My foundations are rock solid, and never again will I let anyone, or anything shake them.
And this is not something which I am deriving from anyone else, it is all coming from me. Yes, a relationship is still very important to me, yes my friends and family are essential in my life - but I know am equipped to make a huge success of my life. Maybe I have already in some ways - even by getting to this point of realisation.
I think for a long time before I went away I felt a little numb. I found it hard to care too much about anything much. And now I feel so inspired, energised and motivated, that anything could be possible.
And boy do I care............. about improving myself, learning, developing my skills and knowledge to get a great job, training as hard as I can to achieve even greater results as an athlete (hopefully), appreciating my family, who are amazing, and who have probably put up with a lot from me moping and being miserable in the past. It is like a little revelation, and I love it.
Before I ramble on any further about all this amazing self-awakening and realisation (yep, I used to yawn and rubbish all that kind of chat before as well, but I assure you, a) this sort of trip can revolutionise your life and b) it feels absolutely fantastic so there) I must tell you about the Cava Ceremony which we were invited to at Walu Beach. Oh, and the fact we nearly didn't make it home at all.
Cava is the root of a tree - not fizzy white wine as you and I know it to be in our world. When guests arrive in Fiji, particularly eminent guests, the locals hold a 'Cava Ceremony' to welcome them. They mix this brown powdered root with water - its sieved into a bowl and presented to each guest in turn, starting with the most important person first (incidentally that wasn't us).
As you are handed the small bowl (half a coconut), you must cup your hands and clap them together once shouting BULAH! You then neck the concoction, clap another three times with cupped hands and shout MUTHA! You then repeat this as often as you are handed the Cava.
The whole point is, apparently, to make your body go numb. It starts with a 'fizzy' feeling in your lips and tongue, after that your body starts to go numb and then, finally, your brain. 'More of a narcotic than alcoholic' explained our host, Mali. Excellent stuff. We didn't stay long enough to find out what total bodily numbness felt like (and anyway, I know how that feels after a never-to-be-repeated evening on magic mushrooms) but it was a unique experience and the evening was complimented by some lovely singing by the exuberant Fijian guys, with a particularly good rendition of 'In the Jungle' being the highlight.
So then. The time eventually came for us to leave, and this was obviously sad. I did however feel ready to go, I had done everything I wanted to on this trip and I had achieved so much. It was time.
I also had another exciting little reason for getting home as well, in the form of a rather lovely new man who was waiting for me in Surrey. This took the edge off the sadness of having to leave and was making me look forward to returning even more.
So it was a strange old mixture of emotions clanging about in my head as I stepped down onto the return ferry back to the main land.
I say 'ferry' but mean that in the loosest sense of the word. Perhaps it would be better to describe it as it really was - 'a tiny rickety old fishing boat'. It dawned on us both that this was the pay off for the low cost of the ferry crossing. As the boat lurched towards our jetty it already looked full to bursting. One girl was already heaving with sea-sickness as well, and everyone looked very wet. Righto.......
We threw on our bags, and the boat sunk lower into the sea. People seemed very reluctant to move up at all to let us on and I began to feel a bit annoyed. As we set off I understood why - one side remained relatively dry, the other got drenched approximately every 2 minutes. We both stated off on the wet side, but the captain ordered me to switch sides for weight distribution purposes, so I lucked out in the end - in more ways than one.
Once I'd settled into my teeny tiny little inch of boat space I noticed that the guy I was sitting next to was undeniably gorgeous. And Norwegian. Which meant nothing to me at the time of meeting, but as the (loooooong) journey panned out, I came to the conclusion that Norwegians were as funny and entertaining as Dutchmen. If you've never met any - I highly recommend you search some out - quality conversationalists, both nationalities.
I believe this was fate lending a hand as well, as I tend to get a little distraught in potentially uncomfortable/dangerous situations, and this was undoubtedly that. We were all wedged tightly together on the hard and uneven floor of a very old boat which was in pretty poor shape. There were too many of us on board, we had no life jackets, the sea was rough, waves were lapping overboard and there was no shelter from the relentless sun.
The story of the 'Life of Pi' flashed, unbidden into my mind and I tried to push away all thoughts of 'stranded boats'.
The heaving girl continued to heave (for some reason into the boat - she seemed fairly ambivalent towards chundering into the sea but seemed to prefer the legs of the guy sitting opposite her. He was considerably understanding about it in my opinion, not sure I'd have been so relaxed).
Jane had gone from green to grey. My nose had gone from red to Rudolph.
But through all of this, Mr Norway (we didn't swap names) chatted and giggled and larked about and it almost completely took my mind off our (quite dire) situation. Until, that is, we stopped.
The motor spluttered and chugged to a halt. We had been on a bit of a go slow for quite a while, and now it seemed we had officially run out of fuel.
The captain got on his mobile. Thank God for Nokia and Vodafone! A short sharp exchange of heated words and the conversation ended abruptly. I began to realise the severity of our predicament and became angry that we had been allowed to get on this ridiculous vessel, especially without life jackets. Raleigh staff would have had a field day over that one.
We bobbed up and down for what seemed like ages and the waves continued to spill over into the boat. We actually started discussing 'bailing' and 'having to make a swim for the mainland'. I knew I could do it, and had faith in Jane - we also had some pretty strong lads on board, but it was still a long way, and what about all our bags....... and the puking lady would surely struggle..... oh dear.
Mr Norway continued to keep me calm by taking the mick out of my ever-reddening nose, and eventually, EVENTUALLY, another boat came zipping towards us. On board was some spare fuel and one of our lovely Walu Beach guys. He ordered me and Jane onto his boat and said 'I am taking you from here'........ so Mr Norway and I parted company, but I sure was glad to get into an eminently more powerful boat with someone who looked like he actually cared whether we made it home alive or not.
Which we obviously did. Praise be to God.
Our flights home to the UK were thankfully reduced by one, the nice Qantas lady arranged it so that we only had to fly Nadi to LA, LA to Heathrow when we rang to confirm thus eradicating the extra stop at JFK, New York from the equation. Even so, it was 48 hours of hardcore sleepless travel and landing in London was very, very surreal.
Sleep-starved, shivering with the drop in temperature and fighting an already advancing cold, as we taxied down our final runway I turned to Jane and said, 'Well lady, it has been an honour and a priviledge to have travelled with you'.... but that's as far as I managed to get. Her eyes welled up and big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks, and I could no longer speak myself.
It was a really sweet moment, we both acknowledged how close we had become, even more than before we left, and we just cried a little for the end of our wonderful journey together.
