I’m listening to Grandmaster Flash on the beach. Literally pretty pissed off. The roof in the dorm leaked again during the night. At two o’clock a jet pours into my face again. Move the bed again. Awake for another two hours.

In the morning I have to cool down. Swim with John, an American triathlete, out to the outer reef. From the beach it looked like maybe 700 metres. I don’t know how far it was. All I know is that a good two hours later I crawl back ashore, shaking. It takes a while for the shaking to stop. Two Cokes, a packet of chocolate crackers, a packet of crisps and a portion of chips with sausage. (more…)

In the evening, powerful thunderstorms pass over the Mamanuca group. You can catch the lightning with the film function. Using Virtual Dub to export image sequences. Swoosh. Lightning pictures. The less nice thing about the thunderstorms is that after a while they also pass over Mana.

There is already a tarpaulin on the roof of the Dorm-Bure. But unfortunately it’s not enough. A waterfall comes down right above me. Soaking wet in bed again. We move the bed in the middle of the night, but water really wakes you up. Can’t sleep, swim a lap in the rain while the last guests seem to be prolonging their stay with heavy beer consumption. (more…)

…I am on the sun deck. I am I am I am I… The sign next to me says: to the Sundeck. I look around, right at the top of the speed cat for Mana. That’s right. The sun is shining again after the last day in Nadi was a disaster. I’ve been scratching a stitch on my foot for the last few days. Cleaning it every day didn’t help. It bled and oozed for four days and four nights.

On my last night in the Horizon, I woke up at two o’clock in the morning. My foot hurts like hell. I go out into the light and see a pumpkin where my foot used to be. Swollen like a bull’s balls during mating season. The little stitch turns into an ulcer. I take a taxi to the hospital. The doctor says: just in time, it would probably have turned into blood poisoning. (more…)

I’m back in Nadi. All international flights arrive here. Everyone is just on their way, nobody stays. If you see a face again the next morning, that’s a long time. I don’t like Nadi. Unfortunately, there’s no other choice on the way from Nananu-i-Ra to Mana. I need a day or two of fast internet before I’m stuck on a modem on an island again.

There’s not a single hotel with internet on the entire north coast. If you mention the word broadband, the other person usually just starts laughing. Telekom Fiji seriously recommended that I open a wireless account. The “Broadband Internet” in Nadi is on its last legs – if it has any air. (more…)

I was lucky with the reef. On the second day of his holiday, an Australian caught his wife’s kite 5m from the beach. Result: 6cm long and 2cm deep coral cut in his foot. After half a litre of blood loss, it is clear: stitches are needed. Which means a week’s break from kiting until the evening. Luckily he’s only here for another six days :-)

I go out again in the afternoon for a downwinder with the boat. The wind is blowing at speeds of over 50 km/h. Metre-high waves crash over the boat. Sotos proves to me that even with the latest kites the depower can sometimes be too little. It pulls him over 1km almost into the reef. Meanwhile, I count the coral cuts in my shorts in the boat. (more…)

Mit dem Bus geht’s im tropischen Dauerregen weiter auf die Nordseite von Viti Levu. Der Kings Highway wird nach 50 km ein einspuriger Feldweg. Seekrank auf Land, einmalig. Nach vier Stunden werde ich in Ellington abgesetzt. Endlich wieder Sonne.

Warren, der Besitzer der Safari Lodge auf Nananu-i-Ra kommt, und mit dem Boot fahren wir raus auf eine Sandbank. Dort warten ein paar Schweizer und ein Engländer. Im Sonnenuntergang darf jeder mal eine Runde Wakeboarden hinter dem Boot. Riesen Spaß vor großer Kulisse. Den griechischen Kitelehrer lässt’s so heftig auf Ohr, dass er danach durch selbiges pfeifen kann. (more…)

I go on my first “tourist” tour. A truck picks me up in the morning and we head west again on Kings Road. Our destination is the Navua River near Pacific Harbour. Another 15 Germans arrive on a bus from the west. I don’t feel like speaking German at all. The driver does me a favour and introduces me as Francis from England. I leave out my title and surname, as Sir and Drake would be a bit over the top.

A motorised banana boat takes us a good hour from the mouth of the Navua River inland. The mountains get higher and higher while it rains continuously. Despite it being 25 degrees, the wind would make it quite cold, so for the first time I’m glad of my rain jacket. (more…)

Yesterday was a wonderful day until the evening. Father Christmas drops me off at the Raintree Lodge above Suva. There are beautiful little lakes with water lilies between the buildings, surrounded by rainforest. The birds chirp in all directions and from all directions.

Nevertheless, Raintree Lodge is rubbish. Mouldy beds, cramped rooms. Food expensive and poor. Filthy bathrooms, toilets, green pool. Everything abandoned, staff unmotivated. Every little extra costs a lot. The absolute downfall was an ethno-techno-accompanied “local” dance performance, almost unbeatable in terms of sadness. (more…)

The last night at Fiji Beach House comes to a quiet end. The house is empty, the good mates have moved on. I was greeted by strong winds in the afternoon. Fittingly at low tide, 20cm of water over the reef. Unkitebar. My curse continues.

A few Australians drive to Suva. I check in. Had no idea who I was travelling with. Suddenly we stop at a school. The boot of the van is full of balls. Children are streaming in. The white-and-blue-striped Father Christmas Peter Cole and his red-faced colleague Bubbles make children’s hearts light up. (more…)

After a few days, we’re finally going snorkelling again. We take the boat out onto the reef on the Coral Coast. Visibility is up to 20 metres with a moderate current. Blue starfish, parrotfish, clownfish and hundreds of others that I don’t recognise. If you haven’t snorkelled in Fiji, you don’t know what colours are.

We dive down to 5 metres along a small reef wall. At the very bottom there are some killer clams up to half a metre long. I want to tease them a bit, but wiggling the water isn’t enough to get them to close up. I still need my hand, so no shell flaps. (more…)

David, the nice Irishman from the first jungle trip, had emailed. Had arranged another jungle trip, not offered anywhere publicly, only found out by chance from a villager. I agree immediately. Early in the morning we take the bus to Pacific Harbour, Art Village. Nice colonial ensemble.

I meet David around 11 and we go for a bite to eat. David tells me about his other hotels. Apparently everything is empty. It’s been a year since the last coup in Fiji, but the tourists are still missing. I check out the Uprising, a new backpacker resort in Pacific Harbour. Empty. (more…)

I’ve got the third world travelling blues. Not a melodic one, more one with a down-tuned fourth. I’m a soaked sponge, and not because of five days of constant rain. Everything is moving at breakneck speed. After the USA, I thought it was because I was travelling too fast. But it wasn’t. The world goes by even faster when you stand still.

I thought long and hard about whether I should write something about it. It’s not a crematorium blog. I’m putting it online now because I think that a journey without a low point can’t deliver any high points. So I guess that’s part of it. (more…)

Jiunta, a guide from the nearby village, leads us into the middle of the jungle. Only two people. Deserted jungle. We walk along dirt tracks through a small village to the edge of the forest. I’ve forgotten all my clothes, the sun is stinging. After the first muddy patch, my shoes don’t want to accompany me either, so I go to sunbathe in the meadow. Barefoot in the jungle.

The trail leads uphill through mud, mosquito battlefields and bamboo forests along a river. The Manoa Trail on Oahu was nice, but only this one is really sugar-free. Jiunta is always showing us new plants for getting drunk on fish, treating diarrhoea, stopping bleeding and much more. (more…)

Am nächsten Nachmittag kommt glatt mal etwas Wind auf in Nadi. Footballspieler starten mir den Kite, ich zieh zwei Bahnen. Für Aufkanten reicht der Wind nicht. Ich lauf am Strand zurück und etwas weiter, gehe wieder ins Wasser. Der Wind hört schlagartig komplett auf, Drachen fällt mitten in eine Seegraswiese. Den Tang aus den verhedderten Leinen rauszuzupfen dauert nur eine Stunde. Der Fluch hält an.

Am Abend lern ich noch ne nette Australierin kennen, mit der ich deutlich zulange und zuviel am Strand versumpfe, wie mir mein Schädel am nächsten Morgen rhythmisch pochend mitteilt. Mit dem Taxi geht’s zum Busbahnhof Nadi und dann weiter für 10 FJ$ über 150km an die Südküste zum Fiji Beach House. (more…)

Early the next morning, it’s off to Fiji. Tidy up the flat, make the princess bed, do the last wash. That’s fine, I only paid half of what others would have charged. The shuttle arrives on time and takes me to the airport. Feel like I’ve been taken for a ride by the wind again. As soon as I leave, it blows like crazy.

Air Pacific doesn’t even ask for the extra $20 for kite luggage. The plane is half empty, I have a whole bench to myself. After three hours there’s a stopover on the Christmas Islands. The terminal is probably the smallest in the world. The only reason for landing large jets is that the smaller ones would run out of fuel on the way. (more…)