Thursday, 18 November 2010

Magic Real Travels in Fiji

Yes, I'd prefer to have written this from experience. But with imagination and some destinational facts for reference, being home or office-bound isn't a barrier to anyone's writing and dreaming.

Magic Real travel is nearly as much fun as the real thing, don't you think?

It's 19.23 in Fiji. We've spent our paralleled-life day island hopping in a small wooden boat that we brought from a fisherman. He was by the beach shack, the day after we arrived in the islands. We've had enough rowing and paddling for today, so I've decided that the Mamanuca Islands are the best place for us to stop and sleep tonight. My justification being, the Mamanuca Islands are a collection of small coral islands, with some great surfing sites. What more could we want?

He says: 'Would you mind sleeping under the stars again tonight? Perhaps the boat would be a restful place to curl up and snooze, among the dozens of flowers that we've gathered throughout the day.'

Me: 'It would be relaxing to sleep on the boat. But, while the lapping waves would relax my mind, I think I'd miss running my finger tips through the sand as the sun rises and the birds pipe up.'
Umm, why am I worrying about this decision now, when we'll have the boat and beaches for many weeks to come? Boat, beach, boat, beach, boat..? I've made far tougher choices in life than this.

He says: 'Did you realise that I was gazing back at the beach, watching you watching me as you tried to fathom what it takes to surf.'
Me: 'No, you know I'm short sighted'.
Night surfing appeals more to me because no one would see me falling.
'Are there sharks...?'

[A couple of hours later...]
Me: 'Ok, I agree with your boat idea. I can't imagine ever sleeping more soundly than I will with you on the water tonight. I'm guessing that the sweet scent of the tropical flowers will be unbelievably intoxicating too.'
Perhaps even more so than the palm wine we've been living on since we arrived...just the two of us, on the other side of the world.

Me again: 'Do you think I could learn to ... feel the surf properly?'
I think I'd ask too many questions of it..why, when, how ...instead of submitting to it and letting it carry me along, coalesced within its natural instinct to rise, grow and rush to shore.

Me again: There must be millions of fireflies here. They've come out for the dusk, to dance. They're flitting around and along the sand.
...'Ooh watch out! Mind you don't crush that bright orange flower. There. By your elbow. I'm saving it to wear in my witchy, sea-salty curly hair tomorrow. Post-surf lesson.'

Read more like this:
Does travel writing style rule over substance?
Real life travels in Texas - from the vaults

Here is the beginning of my post. And here is the rest of it.


David said...

Ah... Fiji. You appear to have missed out all the other boats crammed with backpackers and the large groups of Australian package tourists.

(Apologies if that ruins the dream).

Sandwagon said...

I can still dream of finding a secluded corner to park my wooden boat can't I?

Please suggest an alternative island for me in the South Pacific for when I get there in reality. Please, please.