This trip to Chiang Mai was an impulse buy. For a few hours, fares on the Thai Airways site were about half the normal price. (It turned out later that due to an IT error or something, they didn't add a fuel surcharge.) I didn't want to go to Bangkok, too hot and humid for my taste but I had always been curious about Chiang Mai. Quick research showed that climatically it was the ideal time of year to go, and there would be two festivals that weekend, Loi Krathong and Yi Peng. Yi Peng sky lanterns (khom loi) featured in one of the photos in Lonely Planet's gallery of the most beautiful places on earth. So I bought.
I would have preferred a night flight but due to the timezones this wasn't possible. The return would be overnight though. So I amused myself watching a few films. I went for the foreign films partly because I could read the subtitles and ignore the soundtrack. Les Gamins (The Brats) had a ROTFL segment where Thomas ad libs as a translator for an aggressive Iranian negotiator giving a speech at disarmament talks. Ci Vediamo Domani (See You Tomorrow) was a bit too bleak. But I recalled from my Italian lessons that the literal translation is: we see each other tomorrow. An interesting cultural observation, and I didn't forget everything my Italian teacher taught me. The latest film in the Die Hard series was boring and full of CGI car demolition.
Suvarnabhumi Airport seemed to have settled in since my last time through, by coincidence at its inauguration. That trip we entered by the old Don Mueang Airport and left by Suvarnabhumi.
Chiang Mai airport is an international entry point. In practice this meant that I cleared immigration in Suvarnabhumi but my luggage was checked through to Chiang Mai to clear customs there.
The flight was late departing and the sun had set by the time we took off about 45 minutes late. Partly because Thailand is at UTC+7 so sunrise/sunset is around 6. I wished they had lowered the aircon temperature on both Thai Airways segments; it was too stuffy.
Coming in to land I noticed some floating lights in the sky. These were of course Yi Peng lanterns.
I had to cross to the domestic section of the airport to find the fixed fare taxi stand. Chiang Mai's airport is one of the most convenient in the world, only a few km out of the old city. As expected, this being south east Asia, streets were bustling. Chiang Mai is quite spread out, I saw a lot of ground lighting coming in to land.
After the friendly people at Aoi Garden Home checked me in, I took a walk to the eastern gate, Tha Phae, where most of the action is. On the way I passed a large lantern display.
At the Tha Phae gate there were brightly decorated stands from ASEAN neighbours for Yi Peng.
I also needed to change some money. I didn't find the money changer I had in mind and the others had closed by the time I gave up. Bugger, I would have to pay the balance for tomorrow's tour by credit card and get change later.
On the way back I encountered people releasing Yi Peng lanterns at the Three Kings Monument. The lantern is made of light porous paper. A circular hoop at the bottom has a wire frame to which an inflammable doughnut is attached. I'm guessing a wad of material impregnated with hydrocarbons. It takes a while for the flames to catch and generate enough hot fumes to lift the lantern.
I only had my snappy camera with me for the walk so the other photos weren't good. Don't worry there will be more Yi Peng photos later as the main event wasn't until the weekend.
It was only 2230 when I got back to my hostel but due to the 4 hour timezone difference, it was well past my bedtime back home so I showered and collapsed into bed. It was refreshingly cool during the night due to the elevation of Chiang Mai (about 300m).
I took a leisurely breakfast, then a final dip in the pool.
While soaking I spotted a ripe mango on the ground that had fallen off the tree. Fiji's farewell gift to me. I peeled it and ate it on the spot. A bit tangy but not bad.
The other cat in the resort, who also appears on murals there.
I showered then discarded the now empty tubes and bottles of toiletries, the awful flip flops, etc. All according to plan. It seemed like such an anticlimax, such an orderly departure from Fiji that I had engineered. It was sombre and I was emotionally numb. Then I realised that I was somewhat sleep deprived. Not from wild nights but from short ones. I had got used to getting up at the crack of dawn because of stuffy dorms, then the day drew me into its activities without my normal afternoon coffee break. Emotions are intensified by lack of sleep and what seemed plausible is insupportable when affective emotions are dampened.
I had a suspicion Fiji would be that kind of destination anyway. If you join the all-inclusive hotel set then what's the difference between Fiji and say Bali or Phuket? So I think I made the better choice, to see the less developed Fiji on the backpacker trail. It's just me that I don't have much capacity for suntanning and water sports.
But a happy thought had occurred to me riding the bus between Lautoka and Nadi. I had noticed similarities between Fiji and (what I know of) the Caribbean. Fijian pop for example, could be mistaken for West Indian pop. And I suspect the underdeveloped and overgrown rural areas would be similar in the West Indies. Not to mention the resorts with sky high prices. So Fiji has given me a preview of the Caribbean and this will help me manage expectations before I get to go there.
My original plan was to visit the Garden of the Sleeping Giant. This orchid nursery was started by the late Raymond Burr, star of the TV series Perry Mason and Ironside, to house his private collection. It's now open to the public. I thought I could come away with lots of lovely photos of orchids.
When I asked the front desk how to get there by public transport, I was told the only ways were by tour or taxi. There are several km between the turn off from the main highway and the garden and it would be infeasible to hike. I asked how many km but no one could give me an answer. I wished I had printed out the Google map. (Looking at it now I estimate 3km which would be 45-60 minutes each way.) The taxi fare quoted was $75 including waiting and return. This was over the top I felt. The lady at the tour desk at the resort suggested signing up for a tour but I didn't want to see the other attractions included. In a way this reflected how Fijian tourism worked; it was all outsourced to private operators. So I gave that up and skipped to the next part of the plan which was to visit Lautoka, Viti Levu's second largest town. I was curious about the shops and produce market there.
At the main road, Fijian resort workers going off shift helped me hail a microbus charging $2 to Lautoka. The radio was tuned to a local Christian station with the DJ reading dedications to listeners for success in the exams and such.
Lautoka market was a gloomy affair and not worth taking photos inside. It was mostly backyard produce, not of high quality. I guess they didn't have access to better cultivars. Local produce included bananas, papayas, taro, sweet potato, kava. Apples were imported from NZ as noted previously.
There was more choice in fish, but of course I had no way to sample these.
There were an awful lot of fast food places serving Indian, Chinese or Western fast food. However I found the Hot Chilli Café where I partook of a decent coffee and cake, and used their WiFi. It was the first time in a week that I had been online.
Fiji is a port of call for sailing craft hence a business like this.
It had been my original intention to have lunch in Lautoka. I might have been able to find decent food but I didn't want to hang around until lunchtime. So I headed back to Nadi Town. I took a stage bus similar to this one which allowed me to take pictures out the window. The bus stopped everywhere so the journey of some 30-40 km took around 90 minutes.
At Nadi Town the produce market was more open so I got better photos.
This vendor was the only one selling soursops, I wonder why.
And there were only a few sellers of breadfruit.
It had also started raining.
This notice explained why there were no cooked food sellers in the market. Not that I would have sampled any, due to hygiene concerns. Also note the Fijian word tabu which gave English taboo.
I took lunch at the Bo Hai, a Chinese seafood restaurant recommended in the guide. The salt and pepper prawns were good but the prawns were not as firm as what I'm used to, probably due to what was harvested locally.
Nadi is not a large town and I had no interest in crafts or duty free goods, so the points of interest were quickly exhausted. I understood why some people flew in, did an island excursion and flew out, bypassing Nadi Town altogether.
It started pouring so I waited out the rain in a café. After that an uneventful return to the resort and a quiet evening packing up to leave in the morrow.
My last day in the Yasawas. I woke at daybreak and went to photograph the sunrise.
As ever, the dogs were keen to keep me company.
I rocked in the hammock until it was time for breakfast. We got pancakes which were quite nicely done. The morning before, breakfasting alone, they had served me delectable waffle puffs containing coconut milk.
I asked for a shoulder massage to ease the knot in my left shoulder. I could move it better after that, but time was the best cure.
During and after breakfast the others were vacillating between going to Blue Lagoon in the morning or after lunch. They still hadn't left by the time I had to transfer to the Flyer. I wore long jeans so the cuffs got wet during the transfer. I dried up in the lounge.
The return trip was uneventful, we passed the resorts I had stayed at in reverse order. They didn't play The Blue Planet documentary on the TV though. Here we are passing South Sea Island again.
Viti Levu loomed in the cloudy distance. It looked like it would rain that evening.
In the lounge I chatted with a French girl from Toulouse who had spent a year on a working visa in Australia. The brave lass had driven across the Nullarbor in her own car.
We picked up our luggage from the jetty at Port Denarau. Awesome Adventures Fiji then took us on coaches back to our resorts. And that was the end of my outer islands excursion.
My life was shrinking. I only lived to sleep, eat, hike, swim and read. I decided to dip in the ocean in the morning before the mercury rose. I could walk to the Blue Lagoon in the afternoon. Yes, this was where some scenes from the eponymous film were shot.
The water wasn't perfectly clear though, it carried seaweed and the owner swept some of the detritus off the beach in the morning.
It's a dog's life. He followed me around a lot and dug a depression for himself under my hammock when I used it. I'm such a bad influence on animals.
A pair of doves were repeating the same conversation with regularity.
My erstwhile resort companions arrived by the Flyer after lunchtime.
In the late afternoon I asked for directions to Blue Lagoon. The tide was high so I had to take the overland path instead of walking around the coast. One of the resort staff accompanied me on the path for a short distance and then told me to take the left fork when I saw a sign.
I reached the fork but there was no sign. I took the left anyway. But I had bigger problems than taking the wrong path. The skies opened up and it poured. I didn't mind the rain even though clad in a T-shirt and shorts because in a way it was refreshing. But I regretted not taking the waterproof camera instead of the regular one. I wrapped my T-shirt around the camera as best as I could and sheltered under trees. The leaf cover was inadequate.
Just as it seemed the rain would stop it would recommence. After many rounds of teasing it really abated, leaving rivulets of water. I crossed several coconut trunk bridges across creeks and reached a clearing with picnic facilities and a cruise ship moored offshore.
Some tourists were being transferred back on board. Fijian workers were packing up the remnants of a meal. I chatted with them. They explained that they had been catering for the Blue Lagoon cruise but were returning to the ship due to the inclement weather. One of them offered me a garbage bag to shield my camera. It had stopped raining, but I thought it prudent to have a bag anyway.
I knew going back was going to be difficult with slippery mud, but I didn't suspect how much. The soles of my flip flops picked up mud and slid on slopes. What's worse, mud, an excellent lubricant, got between my feet and the flip flops. At least with rain, the mud was washed off. And the flip flops being cheap junk, the strap was prone to popping out of the hole. So I walked barefoot, which wasn't so comfortable where the path was rocky. Fortunately there weren't any sharps such as broken glass or metal. Naturally the mosquitoes took the opportunity to make a blood donor of me.
But it wasn't all suffering. I passed a mango tree laden with fruit. Sadly none of the fruit on the ground were ripe and whole. (I didn't want to pick any off the tree, in case somebody was going to harvest the tree.) I also saw many land crab holes. Only by using the extreme zoom on my camera did I manage to get a picture of one, about to dart out of sight.
After what seemed like an eternity but actually more like 40 minutes I stumbled into the resort with muddy feet and walked to the sea to wash off.
I was glad I hadn't invited the other visitors to accompany me. I would have been blamed for the rain. Earlier that day the girls said they were bored out of their brains, were contemplating leaving one day ahead of schedule, and asked me if there was anything interesting to do in the resort.
Time to head to the last resort of my package. E, the Austrian girl, was also headed north but to a different resort. Our departure time meant that we would miss lunch but would get one at our destinations. The tide was out and we had to wade through about 100 m of shallows barefoot (flip flops get stuck in the mud) to reach just the boat. I spotted a purple starfish and a sea cucumber in the shallows on the way. I wish I had remembered that I had the waterproof camera in my pocket at that moment.
Gold Coast Inn is on Nanuya Lailai Island and faces east. The Flyer reaches the stretch of water between Nanuya Lailai, Taveva and Nacula Islands, serves over half a dozen resorts clustered around that area, then turns around and retraces its route south. The crew were at pains to impress on passengers not to assemble at the aft of the boat until their resort was called.
There was no fanfare on arrival, but I received a warm welcome from the host, who was the boat operator, and his wife, waiting on the beach. Also these friendly canines. The owner told me that activities could be arranged but there would be no pressure to do so as it was a laid-back resort. My kind of place. I was the only guest that night and had a whole bure to myself.
Later that afternoon, I walked to the next beach where Lo's Tea House was. You could get tea, coffee, cakes and snacks there as well as souvenirs. I had lemongrass tea with banana cake and chatted with the Fijians.
While I was there a couple of US kids walked in to cries of recognition. They were aid volunteers and had been there on a previous visit. One of them was eager to taste Lo's egg bun (easy over egg on a roll) again. I joined them outside and asked them what was the most pressing need that they had found in their volunteer work on the islands. Fresh water they said. Some villagers could afford rain water collectors and tanks but they were setting up communal rainwater tanks so that more could benefit.
There was another resort further up the beach but this was occupied by GVI, a camp for marine researchers.
Bure lighting in the evening was provided by a battery powered light. Back in the common room there had been a whole pile of lights plugged into cables leading to panels in the outside sunlight.
I actually had good mobile reception due to repeaters on the islands linked to the mainland and could have made and received calls if I wanted. But I didn't. One of the guests at White Sandy Beach had been a mobile company service representative doing the rounds of checking the repeaters.
Breakfast at this resort was a bit more elaborate; it featured small baked buns, and French toast. Afterwards 4 of us took a 5 minute walk over a small rise to Honeymoon Beach on the other side of a headland. The beach there was better than the main one, which was shallow and rocky.
On the way we passed an apparently empty village where we deposited a courtesy donation of $2 each into a box for the use of the beach.
The slope was gentle and the water didn't get deep until far out. My companions waded quite far and were still only knee deep. I was content to lie in the shallows and let the waves wash over me.
When they returned they obsessed over a hermit crab they had found, giving it names and posing for pictures with it. Hermit crabs were quite easy to spot on the beach; you only had to keep still so that they wouldn't sense the vibrations and retreat into their shells.
Noontime heralded the arrival of the northbound Flyer and more guests. Another welcoming committee assembled on the beach.
Today there were more arrivals, including the English girl and a couple of Aussie girls from Wayasewa. They had the same itinerary as I did, one day behind, so they would be trailing me all the time.
They were in time to take lunch, which was this creation.
Music was provided. He was very good. I'm not sure but it seems that someone mentioned that he had once appeared on a Fijian TV talent show.
I spent the rest of the day hard at doing nothing. This isn't such an easy task as it seems. First you have to empty your mind of goals. There are no goals on Fijian Time. You are out of touch with the world. Usually I didn't know what hour it was and only the meal drum gave a clue.
But seriously, I did finish Graham Greene's The Quiet American and clear a significant backlog of Kindle reading.
In the evening, after a dinner featuring beef spaghetti and chocolate cake, they staged a hermit crab race. Each person chose a crab. They were put in the centre of a circle and the first one to reach the perimeter won.
Next we went outside for the potato relay race. The men competed against the women. The potato had to be carried between the knees while running or hopping to the other end of the course and back. If the potato was dropped that leg had to be redone. The men and women won one round each. In the decider, it turned out that the Fijian men had cheated and not carried the potato at all, leaving it at the start point, and hoping no one would notice in the dim light. As a result, the men had to play a forfeit round.
This was followed by a sing and dance along.
With everyone exhausted, some walked down to the beach where the Milky Way could be plainly seen in the night sky. I couldn't locate any familiar constellations. I think the Southern Cross was low and behind a hill. The bonfire was lit then riddles and jokes told. My contribution was this, paraphrased: A guest arrives very late at a cannibal dinner and is told by his host: I'm sorry, everybody's eaten.
That night I did not make the mistake of not using the mosquito net. I had wanted better airflow but the bites were not worth it. Towards dawn a shower cooled temperatures.
