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Fiji Random Thoughts

Bula from Fiji

It looks like I’ve tricked myself into arriving in Nadi.

Knowing that I’d get cold feet, I booked a non-refundable plane ticket, and AirBnB accommodation. Sure enough, my feet became very cold early in May.

But the Miser won out over the Laggard, and here I am. Warm. In shorts. In winter.

Vapes

But not before I fretted for more than a week about vapes, which cannot be bought legally in Fiji. I pestered a Fiji Facebook group, before finally asking the horse ( baggage check-in at the airport ).

Which told me to put everything vape-related in my carry-on baggage. I did that, with the result that I dribbled through customs like a normal person, without the normal Aussie grilling.

The Flight

I decided not to stand on ceremony, and insist on taking my allocated window seat from what turned out to be a surly old man next to me.

He told me – I think – that it’s unusual for Fiji Airways to be nearly two hours late taking off. As I write, the same flight was only 36 minutes late today.

Plus it took more than an hour to get through luggage drop-off. And the plane’s narrow aisles meant I spent three hours in the path of pedestrians.

Nadi, and My Digs

The “studio apartment” is a two-room affair – the bathroom / toilet, and everything else. I’m used to that from my time in Thailand and Vietnam. Good enough.

There’s a decent yard too, and coconuts galore – as soon as I figure out how to climb 20 feet up the trunk without doing a Keith Richards.

On the downside – after only 24 hours here, mind – it looks like it might be difficult getting around.

Nadi is sparsely-populated, and affordable transport options seem to be limited. Taxis aren’t much cheaper than NZ, and renting a motorbike is $80 FJD / day ( compare that with less than $2 / day in Thailand ), the same cost as renting a bicycle!

A taxi ride to Wailoaloa beach and back ( about 4 – 5 km ) cost $35 FJD.

Even though the beach was nearly empty, the driver was adamant that leaving gear on the beach while swimming was inviting theft. The beach itself was disappointing – black sand, and even though I turned up at low tide, nothing better really than a fair to middling NZ harbour beach.

Also possibly on the downside – everything’s locked, which probably means there’s a fair bit of theft. A guy loitering beside the money asked me for change. I gave him $3, hoping that I won’t see him every day.

On the Upside – I got chased up the road by a young woman. I’d left a bottle of water I bought at the counter of the supermarket.

I wanderplantained up the road early this evening to discover that Namaka – the little centre 5 minutes’ walk away – abuzz. Some street vendors with some interesting offerings – Cassava for example, and plantains ( left ) the size of marrows – and some affordable-looking Indian restaurants.

 

Whereupon it dawned on me that the Natives disappear during the sweltering midday heat, leaving it to Mad Dogs and Kiwis.

Categories
Rumours from the Pit

Rumours published

UPDATE 2023: I had issues with my Amazon account, so I’m now looking to re-publish this on another platform.

It took me just 20 years, but the Rumours from the Pit collection is now available on Amazon.

Rumours from the PitThis is a collection of 69 of the best of Carl Wyant‘s columns from the mid-1990s through to 2000.

You’ll be wondering why I’m publishing it.

Because I’m the fool who spent countless hours arguing with him by snail-mail during the late 1990s. Choosing the columns, ordering them, proof-reading, ‘editing’, hammering out the first draft, and finally, producing a digital version in 2016.

He was the fool who spent the stinking-hot summer of 2000-2001 climbing Morningside hill to my castle to finish it. Maybe he knew his time was nigh.

In a case of better late than never, I’ve been working on the kindle digital edition for the last week or four. A print edition should be available shortly.

My blurb reads, in part;

Part outlandish fiction, part memoir, part comment, here is Carl at his inventive best.

Grab a copy. You’ll thank yourself.

Categories
Adelaide Australia

Old dog, new tricks

Since this roving life doesn’t include a pet, I’ve taken to borrowing one.

The loveable wee mutt above is Pedro, the house dog, sniffing and surfing and fetching his way up and down Moana Sands beach.

After a few games of indoor soccer, I realised he was bursting at the seams with excess energy.

I took him for a couple of trial morning walks, him straining at the end of the tether, and leaving his signature around the neighbourhood.

After a couple of days of that, I risked unleashing him on the beach. Straight for the water he went, and never mind the other dogs, or their hind ends. Next he suggested some games of fetch with the beach pebbles.

I saw him that, and raised him a piece of driftwood, and it’s been game on ever since.

Most mornings, a low whistle or a rattle of his tether will see him come tumbling down the stairs all a-quiver.

He’s a smart, but aggressive wee guy. Maybe it’s his element, as well as mine, but at the beach he’s much less prone to bite things.

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videos

Ashes Cricket Day Second Test

I happened to be wandering around aimless in Adelaide, and stumbled across the stadium and the signs.

A chance to see an Ashes ( England v. Australia at cricket ) test live ? What else could I do?

Full story: Ashes

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Adelaide Australia Random Thoughts

Stranded in Paradise

Paradise might be stretching it, but stranded is not.

The NZ Government, bless them, have changed the rules again to make MIQ compulsory for travelers from Oz.

I’ve done MIQ once, and that was enough. A second stint would cost me four figures, and that’s after going through the lolly-scramble to get an MIQ booking.

So, Adelaide it is, until the end of February, when the borders reopen without the need for MIQ.

It could be worse. I could have a terminal illness. I could ( still ) be a vegan. I could be living under a bridge. Or in Invercargill.

It could be better. I could be living in an apartment over-looking the beach, being entertained by dancing girls, and served by a private chef.

Or, it could be just as it is, which is fine with me, for the moment.

Categories
Adelaide Australia

The Ashes

If I had a bucket-list, it would have been one item shorter as of yesterday.

That because I stumbled on a chance to watch a live Ashes test – at Adelaide Oval – yesterday.

Me and my bike took the train into town, with plans to wander about the city gawping.

As I sat slurping my second coffee in Adelaide central, my phone reminded me that it was final day of the second cricket test between England and Australia.

I rode 5 minutes or so to the stadium, to find that tickets were $2.

I’m not the kind of cricket fan who can sit for hours watching, but here was a one-off chance.

I found a local supermarket ,and tap, and loaded up on meat, cheese, and water for the duration.

The Oval

The Oval itself is a monument to Aussies’ love of cricket. It seats 53,500,and is surrounded on three sides by covered stands.

It shows instant replays for those spell-bound by their phones. It is crawling with ushers quite happy to answer stupid questions from Confused of New Zealand. There are clean and well-appointed toilets. There’s an orderly bar and eaterie with no mud in sight. Everything is signposted, and there are lifts and escalators aplenty.

In a word, modern.

The Crowd

Is something you don’t get sitting at home. After two early successes, the Aussie bowlers were having trouble making further in-roads, and the crowd became restless. There were hopeful cheers with every bowling change.

And then the slow-clapping started. First to gee up the bowlers, and then, after a while, more of a demand for a scalp.

Finally, a huge concerted roar as Jhye Richardson let rip with a snorter, getting rid of stubborn Chris Woakes. It was a sublime sporting moment. I was there.

The downside of crowds, of course, are neighbours. One an over-sized young woman chattering away to her silent middle-aged friend. And the other, behind me, a Pom who cheered “battiiing”, like some medieval lord tossing out favours to the local knights. Twat.

After Woakes went, the sheen dimmed and the shadows lengthened. I wandered in and out, postponing the 45-minute train ride back to the ‘burbs.

The radio commentary detailed England’s last twitches as I rode the train.

Categories
Adelaide Australia

Moana Sands

After two nights, I finally made it to the beach – 650m down the road.

Twice. First for the morning constitutional ( above), and second for an afternoon swim. .

There were a couple of hundred people on the beach, and enough of swell to catch a wave or two among the kids and boogie-boarders.

At 28  ºC, with the Vitamin D streaming down, just a whisper of wind, and the sap rising, it’s the kind of day even grim old cynics write songs about.

Categories
Adelaide Australia

Adelaide

There were a couple of spanners in the works, but I made it to Adelaide OK.

The first spanner was getting my bike through the baggage check-in. After pestering Virgin for dimension limits, and trussing the bike up with wrapping and padding for Africa, airport check-in staff greeted me with hems and haws;

It would need a protective box. Which would cost extra. But it’s within your size guidelines. OK, we’ll provide it free. The box isn’t big enough. We don’t have a larger one … We’ll need to see the contents. You want me to unwrap three hours’ work? OK, just a peek then. Righto, it’ll have to go in Oversize. And just like that – an hour later – my bags were checked in.

I made the dubious decision to cart the cheap bike I bought in Cairns because;

  • I didn’t want to add to the flotsam at Roger T’s place
  • no-one on Facebook wanted to buy it
  • I used credit from shysters Kiwi.com ( Ukranian ) to pay for the trip. The few dollars leftovers dollars of credit for a standard fare would have either been wasted, or meant dealing with them again.

As a reward, I had a rare second coffee, and settled in to listen to audiobooks for three hours before the flight.

Delayed

Because I was on board, there was an obscure “technical hitch” to delay take-off, and add further grist to my persecution complex.

Within a jiffy hour, we were airborne. The flight was uneventful, and took about 10 games of phone sudoku.

Moana Sands

The owner of the shared house where I’m staying was good enough to pick me up at the airport, and a 30-minute drive later we were at the seaside village of Moana Sands.

The house I’m sharing is older in the sense that it’s mainly wooden, with high ceilings. I’m on the bottom floor, near a quiet road. The view from the top balcony alone, overlooking the sea to the East, is worth the price.

I think I’ll like it here.