Fruit Salad Asses

Trip Start Mar 17, 2010

Trip End Jul 09, 2010

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Where I stayed

Mana Lagoon

Flag of Fiji Mana Island, Mamanuca Islands, Fiji
Sunday, July 4, 2010

Have had trouble finding the island we're staying on for the map, think this is the right one. Google Map couldn't pick up Bounty Island, the last one, either so just bear in mind I am on an island somewhere in Fiji.
The place we are staying in is a bit of a kip. The walls are cracking, stay in the toilets too long and you're in for a rough nights sleep, the food is essentially the same, and mostly bad, every night.
Despite that the place has its charms, not least Bosco, the Fijian owner, who is a character to say the least. He is a smart guy, who gives off the impression that he's a bit of an old drunk in charge of a hostel. And he may be that too. But he's very entertaining and you can't help but like the place as a result.
His favourite English expression is fuck yeah. "Hey while you're here go visit the local school and say hello to the kids and tell them where you're from. Fuck yeah they would love that." Or, go to that five star resort and jump in the pool, just do it, fuck yeah. The security guards will come and ask you to leave but do it anyway, fuck yeah.
You get the impression that he would do anything for the people who stay in his hostel though and he's very warm. The Fijians welcome tourists and seem very proud to have them. Anywhere we've stayed they sing songs to welcome you (that Sara and I now sing and possibly offend them as we make up the words as we go) and always mention how you are now a part of their family.
One of Bosco's first requests of us was to get our black asses to the beach for mini Olympics. He refers to most people as black asses. Unless you have one white and one black parent, in which case you're a fruit salad ass (he introduced some of the staff working there accordingly).
We saw traditional Fijian/ Polynesian dancing and fire shows. They are also a land that produces mucho sugar but they still use traditional knifes to cut the sugar cane. They put on a show with their cane knifes, each of them spinning them around their necks and doing all sorts of tricks that could cut your head off unless you were a black ass, or at the very least a fruit salad ass.
Sara and I went for a wander first day and came across the set of Survivor that was filmed there five years ago. It was spooky, you're walking through a TV set in the middle of an island that looks as if it was attacked and the cast all fleed. Red bull cans, crisp packets and fake props still lie there in the middle of ruins that were built for the show. There wasn't anyone around for miles except all this old set, pretty bizarre.
Bosco's rugby coach is a catholic priest who arrived in Fiji 60 years ago from Cork. I know what you're thinking. That makes him the oldest rugby coach on the planet. Or maybe you were thinking wow that's a coincidence. Either way, I gave Bosco my People's Republic of Cork t-shirt when we were leaving. He told us on the first day that anytime he meets someone from Ireland they end up being from Cork. I reckon it was a fitting home for the shirt.
In other news Fijian rum is 58percent proof and will officially blow your socks off. Which is inconvenient as both Sara and I were wearing flipflops that night and are now travelling barefoot, like fruit salad asses.