I decided to go to Waya Lai Lai because I thought it sounded like it was named after the chorus from a Simon and Garfunkel song. I think that more places should be named after bits of songs, after all it worked for Barcelona, named after the song by Freddie Mercury and Montserrat Caballe or California, named after the Eagles classic Hotel California.
Waya Lai Lai is also a very attractive island, with big rocks to climb to see lovely views (photo 2) and watch the sunset (photo 3). The locals are keen rugby players and apparently one of them was a well regarded international, though I know nothing about it, a Kiwi recognised him. Sometimes there would be informal rugby games whilst I was there (photo 4). I did not participate as I thought inappropriate to inflict them with my skill level. One night we had a hagi (pronounced hungy), which was meats, chickens, potatoes, yams and so forth cooked underground (photo 5).
One day, Erin and Daniel decided to come with me on my round island walk. The walk turned out to be a bit disastrous, mistimed to the tides, we ended up having to scale precipitous rocks and other encumbrances before we were finally given a lift back to where we were staying. Erin decided as we were going along that she would hang off an overhang in her bikini. I think it is something to do with being American, though it could have just been a unique peculiarity she had.
Kadavu is a large island, renowned for its diving, with thick rain forest and friendly locals. When Tim and I went to the waterfall in the nearby village, the kids came along to socialise and make sure that we arrived safely. On the way back, some local guys invited Tim and I to join them for a few bowls of kava, a drink made from the roots of a local shrub (photo 4). They were having a drink to mark the leaving of one of the villagers, back to the mainland where he was a teacher. They then gave us a lift back to where we were staying, alongside bloody big spiders (photo 6).
Viti Levu is often referred to as the mainland, though it is a large island. The cemeteries are actually maintained by the convicts from the local gaol. Many of the tombs are ornately decorated with curtain-like constructions around them (photos 1-3). When I visited the cemetery, there was a gang of prisoners there cleaning graves, mowing the grass etc. and all were very friendly. I went past the gaol itself, a less flamboyant affair. The murals on the front wall were interesting, though the appearance of the place as a whole was a good reason not to get put away in Fiji (photo 4). Reprobates of a different kind can be found in the government buildings (photo 5), where people are often playing cricket on the fields in front.
