About an hour later we arrive at Sigatoka and are crossing the bridge on the broad Sigatoka River. Past here green jungle covered mountains come close to the coast, and we pass through many Fijian Villages. A Fijian village consists of single storey dwellings, either made out of concrete blocks or wood, covered with corrugated tin roofs strung out along the road. There is the standard mangy looking dog, sometimes a knaggy looking horse, and always bored looking people waiting on the side of the road, but they always stare inside the car perhaps to see if it is anybody they know, and might pick them up. We come to a roundabout and take a turn to the right and end up at a sea side town called Sunset Point, or is sunset strip, but in any case it has an okay beach. Louise strolls over to take some photographs (pictured below).
When Louise returns she strikes up a conversation with a young white boy leading a mangy dog followed by a Fijian lady. He says he is seven years old, and his dog, “Magic” is also seven years old. The Fijian lady is his nanny, and his parents run the dive shop. He is off from school today because he is sick he says. Louise says he is a very luck boy living by the beach in Fiji. The Fijian lady gives us directions back to the Queens Highway. We are surprised to see more white faces, and it must be a town where all the expatriates live, probably connected with the tourism industry on the Coral Coast of Fiji like this young boys parents. Then we’re back on the main road. It is fairly slow going as we have to slow for the numerous villages, the odd runaway cow, dog, truck, or horse that wanders across the road. My foot comes off the accelerator even more when I see the local police with a commodore stopped ahead, and handing what appears to be ticket through the window. His partner is hiding behind a telephone pole with a radar gun aimed at people coming down a steep hill. We pass through a village that claims to the boyhood home of Lote Tuquiri (pictured below).
Suva is built on a fine harbour surrounded by wet green hills. Cargo ships lay at anchor, and there are stacks of shipping containers on the wharves. It is the first time we have seen buildings over four stories high. We inch our way through the traffic to the Holiday Inn opposite on the harbor, which I’ve heard is the place to stay. We’re not staying but I’m hoping my car will be safe in their car park, and they will have a decent lunch. The guests at the buffet appear to be mostly Australian business men, not tourists – I wouldn’t imagine many tourists would come to Suva, most would barely leave their resort. At the next table they were discussing a deal with a local Indian businessman. The Australian was complaining about the difficulties of doing business in Fiji, and how they are not helping themselves. The Indian sat silently: I’m sure he knows only too well about the difficulties of doing business in Fiji. I’m sure it must be frustrating to do business here. The Fijians are friendly, you couldn’t meet a friendlier people, but we take it for granted in Australia that people we doing business with will be on time, not on “Fiji time” or actually show up, or do what you have asked them to do.
After lunch we went for a walk to the city, but as soon as we had left a Fijian man slid up to us, and claimed to have served us at lunch, and was on the way home, but would show us to where the bargains were. Sure, he probably just waits off the Holiday Inn, to pick off the tourists to earn a ‘fee’ at the shops. I was warned on Trip Advisor to expect this in Suva. Another man came up, who actually worked at the Radisson, and shooed him away. Then Louise started to feel a little uncomfortable as she was getting stared at all the time. So, we were sort of glad to get back in the car to drive back to the resort.
We drive back through the little Fijian villages, and stop as the kids cross the road (pictured below). The parents are waiting on the far side to collect them, the sun is shining, everybody is smiling – they might not have much, but they are all seem very happy.
In Nadi it is peak hour. We go to the supermarket that is run, like most of the shops, by Indians. It is about $2 for a two litre bottle of coke compared to $4 at the supermarket on Denarau Island. We stopped at the petrol station and filled up the car. Petrol is over $2 a litre, so it cost $58 to go to Suva and back. I can see why everybody catches the bus (pictured below – note the natural air conditioning)
As darkness falls we crossing ‘Check Point Charlie” onto Denarau Island, and we think to a completely different world than the one across the bridge.
As darkness falls we crossing ‘Check Point Charlie” onto Denarau Island, and we think to a completely different world than the one across the bridge.
