Chapter 6 - Fiji - another hangover

Oh, my head. And the bouncing bus wasn’t helping at all. The only good thing was the others felt the same so we could all keep quiet and try to heal. I had no idea I had drunk enough to hurt but maybe it was the combination of drinks rather than the actual amount. Watching field after field of sugar cane pass by was oddly calming, mesmerizing even. At one point it started to rain in absolute torrents, and there was a scramble to roll down the clear plastic curtain that covers the bus’s open sides before getting soaked. Occasionally we passed a tree full of ripe mangoes left unpicked. In this moist heat the stench of rotting mangoes was pungent and unique, sickly sweet, cloying, a smell I’m sure I will never forget.

We pulled into Lautoka about noon, a busy town of primarily Indian Fijians. We have to stay the night as the boat taking us to Beachcomber only goes in the morning. We found a hotel a little bit out of town and quite pleasant although very quiet and rather unkept. There was a so-called pool area, which ended up being a concrete square with a small and dirty puddle of water in the middle. The poolside bar, which was a bench of peeling paintwork under dusty coconut thatch, was closed. So we spent the rest of the day wandering about town. There’s a great market where we had goat curry and dahl soup that tore the roof off my mouth with its spicy heat.
Niki wanted to see a movie. We’re in a new town in a foreign country and she wants to see a movie? The only thing on was the new James Bond flick starting at 3. However, when we went in just before start time, we found the film was already well underway. James Bond is definitely not Sophie’s thing and she spent most of the time with her eyes closed, breathing deeply. Meditating or napping, I’m not sure which. I hung in there for Niki’s sake, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was amused to find the locals would talk all over the dialogue sequences, I’m guessing either because they don’t know English well enough or because they find those sections boring. However, during the action sequences they were riveted to the screen, and would cheer or applaud enthusiastically during particularly wild crashes or explosions.

Lautoka is a quiet place at night, even a Saturday night, so we spent the evening in our room, Niki flicking through magazines, Sophie painting her toenails while in some fantastic yoga pose, and me reading as usual. We didn’t talk, didn’t need to talk, it was all very companionable and easy. Sometimes I wonder how it is we are friends. We have such different attitudes and ambitions. But maybe that’s partly why.