Room Parent “Wake-up”. Player “why, its early”. “There’s Weetbix”. “I’ll be there in 5 mins”
Breakfast was different – no eggs !!! Apparently we had eaten all the chickens the night before. Despite that the pancakes made a pleasant change. Ace, one of the elders from the village we are visiting tomorrow, was talking with Mark and him look small. His hat was very unusual and it turned out that it was an undertakers hat.
Meanwhile, in one of the boys rooms the room parent is getting a washing run organised. For $20 the local ladies hand wash the clothes and do a good job.
“Have you got any washing you want put in” he asked
“No I smell OK, don’t worry about.” Came the reply. He ended up with two pairs of undies in the washing.
Geoff is holding up the coaches trying to get the web-site updated for the people back home and coping much flakk. “It keeps going down on me” he shouted. I will leave the spectrum of responses to your imagination and seedy back room haunts.
So, round about Fiji time we leave for the hot spring and waterfall. One of the guides tells us that he built one of the pools, his father built the second pool and one of his ancestors found and built the first pool. On the way we pass a field of long fingered plants, some of the boys start giggling and pointing. GPS co-ordinates were locked in. I ask whether marijuana is legal in Fiji and was told very clearly that it is illegal and not tolerated. I pointed to the field and he laughed. “If you smoke that stuff man you will get very ill – it is tapioca”. He spoke to the driver and they were chuckling for ages.
We arrived at a dirt track and there was a old beat up van, like an army troop carrier, waiting for us.
Half the guys jumped in, women and children in the front and disappeared down the track. The rest of us started walking. One the way we passed a small village, 3 huts, and saw the local laundromat in operation in the stream.
We walked through streams, along a narrowing track through the jungle for about 30 mins. There were massive stands of bamboo as the jungle got denser and denser.
At one point the red and pink flowers from the trees had covered the path ahead like some exotic carpet - lost on the boys but nice none the less. Within this idyllic scene Jo Ronald, with long grass and reeds slapping on her thighs was heard to say "I am glad I didn't wear my Kylie shorts." to which Paul Boxall replied "I'm glad I didn't wear mine either." You did not hear a word of disent from any of the 25 kids listening in.
We reached the hot springs and they were three tiered pools built to catch the hot water running down and large black rock. The pools got colder as you moved down the them. We take turns dipping in and moving around the pools.
One of the boys did not want to go into the top pools “because it will kill all my sperm.” The pools were amazing – lying back, looking at the jungle surrounds, the bird calls and the serenity. The moment was lost as a tsunami rolled across the pool from Ace doing another bomb.
We snake our way back through the bamboo and go left instead of right. The boys, bored are asking Steve Schofield how far there is to go every 2 minutes. It is quietly driving him made like some ancient chinese torture. We get to the waterhole and take turns climbing up to the diving rocks or going on the swing. There were some amazing moves performed by our guys but the locals were jumping off a high rock and doing summersaults. The water was cool and clear, fish were swimming amongst us and in some areas there were tad poles in various of metamorphosis. “Eurr, its got legs…”
There as some welcome drizzle as we walked back to the buses, ate our packed lunches and set off back to the resort. Some of the kids and parents fell asleep on the way back after all the exercise. The afternoon was free so the parents rehydrated by the pool. Some more energetically than others with Rob, Vin and Geoff ending up in the pool fully clothed – no phones so no collateral damage. Some of the Kennedy’s arrived with the others still on the tarmac at Sydney airport. Glenn is making the most of it and in text communication with Julie.
Dinner was lamb cutlets with Gareth and Orange on the BBQ doing eggs and sausages.
Fax organised a balloon dancing competition which was hilarious. There were five positions that had to be taken with the balloon never held in place or burst. Once the music started you had to dance and change positions on Fax’s call. The kids killed the parents at it who kept falling over or dropping the balloons. Moz is leaving and brought out his bag of duty free that he was on a mission.
Happy birthday was sung with much gusto to Michael Gullick. Fax is beginning to understand Australian birthday celebrations now.
We were treated to a Kava Ceremony. In contrast to the old grained Wakehurst chief we all sat on a coconut weaved carpet around a traditional Kava bowl (the similarities were uncanny). Kava was put into a hessian bag and water poured through with great solemnity while Fax explain the meaning of the steps. The result was a light brown fluid that looked like cold latte.
This was passed around the elders who clapped once, received the Kava and as they skulled it everyone clapped three times and shouted BULA.
An early night was had by most.